You don't have permission to post in this thread.
Character: [B Tilda] surname yet to be decided [i (Sweeney, Havendash?0]
Subject: [B Explaining Tippetarius' entrance into the world as a specific individual of a species because you HAD to use it so you HAVE to logically explain.]
'[i I was born during a dark time in our city. Tippetarius knows more about it than I do...]
The Black Plague had swept through the corrupt lands like it did in real world Europe and Asia but it never crossed the mountains to the forestlands because no person crossed them to pass it on. Tippetarius' origins are the same as the original character's- but its 'birth' was a coming to a head of the vat of suffering and resulting delirium of the people at the same time that the character is born and due to the laws of this world it was given life at the same time as the character was.
This brings up the question of their becoming paired. I wouldn't think that Tippetarius would come to be suddenly at Tilda's mother's side* as the baby was delivered so would they meet later?
If they meet later I would think Tilda would already have the mark on her arm as a mortal anchor so Tippetarius would simply note this fact and they would come to some sort of agreement. This would allow Tippetarius' intelligence to develop an awareness of the human condition as pitiful and all that good stuff and the two would agree to have Tilda wear the mask so as not to appear 'too human'. because Tippetarius has qualms over it? Would it? That sounds like a strong personality trait for a being with little to no strict personality, snickers.
*actually that's a cool idea of it just sort of appearing in the room full-fledged and the midwives and peeps looking up and seeing what would be Tilda's companion. But DO NOT make it a 'born on the eve of' thing or make it symbolic or something like that shit just happens.
But that brings up the question of Tippetarius' intelligence in recognizing the human condition**
**ANSWER: Tippetarius, in being formed of the thoughts and fears of humans in regards to the disease could have a psychological separation from those becoming its own 'human' thoughts and analyze them- thus making its own judgment about the 'pitiful human condition'- apply that to the rest of the beings as a purpose but not an objective save for Alptraum because that bitch is basically nightmare fuel so it would just go with it.
I'M A BLOODY GENIUS
IF FURY BRINGS UP THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SHIELD AND HYDRA BRING UP HOW PROJECT INSIGHT WAS COMPLETELY ACCEPTED UNTIL THEY ONLY REALIZED THAT IT WAS A HYDRA IDEA- that shit is NOT gonna fly
[+red Verdrängen sie die negativität!]
[B Everything sacred, everything useful become weaponized- nothing can't be used as a weapon, and nothing isn't.]
- Lt. Comm. Gweniviere Nietzsche
Character develop idea:
has been acting the part of the lieutenant so long, being [i so] used and so exploited that she has forgotten a lot of what it meant to be 'Gweniviere'????
Madame Hydra "Viper" v. Gweniviere Nietzsche?? Studyyyy
[B Arrow to the Knee back in action, baby!]
Gweniviere gazed down at the man during the short reprieve, her mouth twisting underneath the respirator into a disdainful frown. Wounds. Simple as Barton's was wounds always were complicated- even in the simplicity of their gain. Having been a field nurse before she was a 'miracle soldier' she had seen the hidden complications of the human body, and its surprising strengths, and equally as shocking weaknesses. Endless frustration, put simply. The healthiest patient on the road to recovery could die as easily as the prospected recovery was supposed to go, though taking up a marginal difference in time.
She herself, due to the serum enhancing her body's functions by obviously limiting its aging and thus boosting its resilience and repairing ability, had an easier time with simple wounds, breaks and such. However, those unchanged like the Agents Romanov and Barton, and Tony Stark- their resilience was veiled in gray- shrouded in random circumstance- fragile.
Gweniviere nodded, thinking she need not say anything further when the archer had given an uncertain, dismissive look towards the questionable fabric he had found on the floor. She had thought he had brains enough to leave it be. She took her eyes off of him for one moment to reach into her pocket for her own kerchief just as Stark and Romanov had entered, looking up at them in surprise initially. She then looked at Barton, who had just taken the cloth in his hand, about to put it on the wound- to rushing blood and permeable flesh- and pressed it firmly as if it were clean. "[B Don't-]" she was about to say- but just as soon as she had uttered the word the procured reinforcements showed up.
The lieutenant curled her fist around the kerchief and swung at the nearest, having not the time to draw a weapon on the initial front. They swarmed as ants, untrained and easily bested, but as with any thing their sheer number ate up precious moments, heartbeats. Being what once was a professional in the medical field, Gweniviere was aware of the difference between 'real time' and the body's time. In a way, human bodies were a world of their own with their systems and subsystems- and as such with the theory of size as compared to conscious, human, worldwide time it was a much quicker clock to be mindful of.
Frustration fueled the quickness with which Gwenvieire dispatched her share of the foes, being the falsehoods they were, as did her awareness of this tiny clock. They fell as almost as easily as they appeared, zombie like in their lack of consciousness. As soon as the Lieutenant had freed herself for a moment form the tussle she turned towards Barton, crossing the room with a few long, quick strides and crouched on one knee before him.
Heeding Agent Romanov but not replying, her strong fingers pulled Clint's hand from the wound, tearing the foreign cloth from his fingers and pushing him against the wall. "[B Töricht Amerikaner!] " the woman cursed, not even pausing to shoot a glare at him as she assessed the wound, pulling the fabric of his jacket away from it so she could see better. Scoffing angrily she finally looked at him and held up the kerchief in her hand, "[B You should know better! Next time, if you live, let me answer you before you do something so stupid!]" Gweniviere snapped, pushing it against his wound. Her grip on his shoulder, that pushed him against the wall, was strong and restricting, keeping the man from moving more.
The Lieutenant looked back at Stark, "[B You!]" Pressing Clint's own hand onto the wound she held out the cloth piece that the man had found on the ground. "[B Eisenmann,] [B what can you do about finding what is on this, oder? Make yourself useful.]"
[+blue Captain Steve Rogers]
BUT DON'T SAY THAT
He glanced back at her, seeing Melanie rubbing at the spot where he had jabbed her shoulder. His lips pursed, tossing a "[+blue Sorry.]" at her before he moved to the doorway, watching as he hesitantly planned their movement forwards. He didn't know how Melanie worked yet in combat, seeing only bits and pieces that day and had to think based only upon a slight, incomplete impression of her-
Suddenly as he raised his hand and more agents flooded the hallway, alerted to their presence obviously- Melanie shot forward and started shooting every single one it seemed- well, nearly every one. At her signal he shot forwards and took on those that hadn't yet made it across the passage, initially dashing forwards with his shield up to bowl over those he met on the way before finally stopping and using it as a melee weapon, knocking over those within reach and throwing the shield to them as a projectile to bounce it off of one another.
After what seemed only moments he turned to see no more and Melanie shoving one over the walkway railing, ordering him to move on. His military rank and training was far above hers, feeling the prickle of distaste at her disregard but ignored it. Now was the time for teamwork- perpetuating the ridiculousness back at SHIELD operations would be pointless and petty.
Following the blonde he glanced around, blinking for a moment to get used to the normal lighting of the room. Returning his attention to Melanie he caught the brightness of her hair, back in the ponytail, in the full light and tilted his head. It was a pretty color, he wondered if it was natural briefly before he came up beside her to take a look at the file she had picked up and promptly discarded.
Steve frowned and bent to pick up what she had discarded, feeling the need to preserve what else might become relevant in some degree of preserve. "[+blue What did you find?]" the super soldier asked as he stood straight again.
NOTES FOR GOOGLE DRIVE CUZ CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO GET IT ON THE MOBILE PHONE AND NOTES ARE TAKING UP LOTS OF SPACE
[+red You also just gave blood recently so these are probably nothing but a bunch of lunatic ideas... Go you!]
[B Torture scene completed.]
Status: [i To be further edited.]
Setting editions: [i Vladimir Kuprin's office: Empty building on a piece of property in which no screams or gunshots would be heard by any large number of individuals .]
[+red Post whole scene here or keep quiet until useful?]
[B Backstory of the scene: Lt. Nietzsche and other officers sent to Russia to (outwardly) ensure Hydra's share of the interest is kept and (ulterior) to make Hydra the sole possessor of the Winter Soldier by placing duress on relevant senators etc. Is it logical that they would be housed with the senator cuz the Russians think they're being nice to the Germans cuz they lost the war? Does this make sense? Do I even make sense?]
[i They will have to get their hands on the paperwork and stuff to keep the Winter Soldier in good care to be used so the authorization Gweniviere is forcing from Kuprin could be to get them inside to retrieve the paperwork in preparation to take soldier man for themselves???? Can't be info on where he is kept because Soviets would convince Hydra everything is okay and show off their new-fangled facilities and such.(<??) And it can't be authorization of the transaction itself because that sounds silly?] Does [i it sound silly? Am I just silly? I bet I am. Fuck that shit, I'm great!]
*Gweniviere has a hard time remaining still
*“It was the most honest and jarringly real emotion she had shown the man since they had met.”
*‘wound’ is in the mouth- being forced to spar the lieutenant gets hit- cuts her inner cheek and/or lacerates her tongue similarly
*due to my problem with continuation she will have to retrieve her car at some point because Loki forgot about her fucking vehicle when he brought her back to Hydra Operations
*Gweniviere doesn’t actually know… but does know that isn’t his sanity that is the problem, it’s his resilience
*Glibly mention the Tesseract shard in his palm
*I have no [i fucking] clue!
*Big Bad Wolf???
[B Notes for future character development]
Character: [i Gweniviere]
*No longer certain whether or not she is "good" or a good person
*Questions herself heavily after being called the villain by the Americans and the world
*Thus wants to reject the idea of good and evil but cannot get past it because she grew up with the idea
*fears falling to self loathing but is basically already there
*Not sure of why or what she is doing with her life only knows she is going against America, namely SHIELD
*little reason to live but would condemn herself to hell if she committed suicide
*Hydra is all she has left- without it there is no apparent reason for her to be alive anymore so despite misgivings she keeps going
*Personally affected by war losses- feeds into desire to prevent future ones- stop the problem before it becomes one vie Hydra mentality that would prepare her to kickstart Project Insight and be prepared to sacrifice so many people- will use violence if necessary
*if anything they could leave such an impression that nothing like it will happen again?
* Loki saves her: [i why] would someone want to save her? Why?
[B Important]: Gweniviere makes personal psychoanalysis of herself saved on her hard drive accessible only through her personal director identification- [i no one will know but I need to know. I need to be on record for myself.] Everything. Thoughts, feelings, beliefs, analyses of self etc.
[i Political Violence]
*political violence Giving into that temptation... more to follow.
Make it believable: Nazi political violence= duress, gestapo street shootings, threats against familiar, seeking out individuals sought by other totalitarian etc. powers and basically kill more people to make the actual dictator look worse.
Hydra would hunt political figures. They will have launched a violent, underground campaign against political powers and individuals thereof to "feed chaos" like Zola mentioned kickstarting with Gweniviere's return when she brought up the idea of P.I. against SHIELD specifically.
Start with joint custody of Winter Soldier dissolved by duress on behalf of Gweniviere and the deathshead policing initiative stationed in Russia. (Make it a story even of Gweniviere being sent to Russia to ensure Hydra's assets are looked after with an ulterior to start with the Kuprin family she is housed with and place them under duress i.e. threaten the family- use his daughter physically threaten whole family, basically. Hydra would logically go further
"[B Even in these chains, you can't stop me.]"
[B THE MEETING]
Baron Von Strucker couldn’t take it anymore. With how enraged the lieutenant seemed it meant she must have been hiding something from him because she had only told him so much about Loki and his possible infraction and whatever else had happened about The Other. She had not calmed down after speaking with him so something must have still been bothering her. Childishly, the feeling of being left out ate and ate at him until he couldn’t take it. He called a meeting, keen on speaking to Gweniviere about her treatment of him, but more importantly to get back to the immortal, Loki. He sent the alert to those involved and set out to the proposed place of meeting, body trembling with the anticipation of speaking to the god of mischief again. He set the meeting to be in his office, pacing quietly until the god of mischief finally showed. Glee spread, unhindered, across his face as did the hungry anticipation of conversation with the being in front of him.
“[+blue Loki,]” the man said before he said anything else, smiling and slipping his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight on his feet with nervous energy. “[+blue good morning. You slept well, I assume?]” As the man gave his answer, Von Strucker’s eyes moved over him briefly before once again returning to Loki’s gaze, anxious to begin speaking again. But the strange, hungry energy was shadowed with a tenseness in his face with the yet palpable playground ‘left-out’ feeling as he was certain that the god would tell him what the lieutenant would not.
“[+blue So,]” he began in a hurried tone, “[+blue what did you tell the lieutenant yesterday? I would have stayed but you know…]” the baron tossed an offhanded shrug, a smug little quirk on his lips as he recalled informing the god of his position beneath the baron.
He had hardly noticed the absence of the lieutenant until it occurred to him that the woman was not present to berate him, oddly enough. The bitch was absent. Turning to the Vox computer he tapped on it and spoke, “[+blue Where is Lieutenant Nietzsche?]”
“[i Absent, sir.]”
“[+blue Absent where? What is she doing?]”
“[i I’m sure I don’t know, baron. The lieutenant left Hydra operations four hours ago and has not returned.]”
“[+blue Four hours? That’s two in the morning. What was she doing?]”
“[i Research and report, sir.]”
“[+blue On what?]”
“[i That is classified.]”
Von Strucker chortled to himself, “[+blue Classified.]” he repeated, shifting again, glancing back at Loki. “[+blue Override code- via Von Strucker- 2-]” he began the code but was cut off by the machine's quipping chirp as it spoke again.
“[i Director override code via Lieutenant Nietzsche. Files classified. She sends her regards.]”
Von Strucker frowned with irritation and embarrassment coloring his face, glancing at Loki and stood straight again. “[+blue That’s fine- dismissed. Well. I’m sure it wasn’t important anyways.]” the man continued, shrugging it off and returning his gaze over to the god with a passive frown. “[+blue What is the matter?]”
[B MORE NOTES FOR THE OVERLORD'S ENJOYMENT]
Gweniviere recalls the actuality of losing control of herself for those minutes after being released and feels the magnitude of her anxiety as a result dissipating what calm she had regained in order to focus on reporting and later helping Loki. Bad juju.
Stress relieving. :3 a rubber ball + and empty office = stress relief
Recall briefly coming across Cap. (WWII) then remember when he fucked up the SHIELD thing that Gweniviere had been working on in hopes of succeeding at putting Hydra on track to its goal and then being possibly able to phase herself out of the organization when it was achieved BUT NOOOOOO SAYS THE MAN IN WASHINGTON
Setting: Soviet Russia Lt. Nietzsche and unnamed Board member with a monocle. Quote, "[B Say something, lieutenant. He is your new equivalent.]" Gweniviere is uncertain, unhappy with that slight, and unhappy because mix of not only Russian but American too- she shall not be compared to that man. But says nothing cuz impossible stolidness.
Flashback possibility: [i "Revenge isn't in my nature, but I have been ordered to act as an equivalent in Hydra's regard and may end up enjoying part of this session, now that I've been given a chance."] Leans chin on fingers, sleeve slips to reveal vertical scars??? Too contrived? Silly you and your ideas. *pats head*
Sedated psychological evaluation- setting interrogation room, typical setup ,mirrored glass is important- in hazed state of sedation sees reflection of self in harsh lighting of the room and the gray reflection, describe similarities to what you see as Gretchen description namely 'harshness of yellow color in the light replacing the usual golden'. Play off of possibility of Tesseract related generation- give it something to work off of. (Fear of if she were 'decomissioned' () that she would lose her temperament and thusly become somewhat akin to your virile, unrestrained, unstable psychological description mit mir in der diele. Reflexion im spiegel entspricht der geburt des Gretchen als realisierter idee.
[B Lt Nietzsche übersetzt zitat:] [i "Meine hoffnungen sind bei Gott, ich am ende nicht, wie ich denke, ich werde geschickt."]
[B Entiem Alptraum note for future use I am certain I will remember I put here. [i Certain.]]
[i Töte deine Ängste, liebes Kind. Sonst der Alptraum Sucher wird Sie zu finden.]
Kill thine fears, dear child. Else the Nightmare Seeker will find you.
Q'uest-ce que tu vous avéz choisis?
[i The creature had sprung up from the pit of my very deepest fears I felt, and resonated with my most closely kept and unrealized vision of horror suddenly thrust upon my sight as if the realization of Armageddon itself had been shown. Even though its entrance was soundless and unobtrusive as its sudden presence in the corner of the room chilled me to my very heart’s cockles, and deeper to still my soul for a breath’s moment as I felt it leave me, shuddering as it passed from the shelter of my body. Stilled momentarily, my heart fluttered as the creature spoke in the deep, resonant voice I thought only God Himself possessed in my mind’s reception of His grace. An odd beast that dredged heathen curiosity up after my initial shock.
It drew forth as if pulled by some animation that disturbed not by breath of wind, nor conscious, leaning effort, but as if by strings that tugged its body smoothly from the recess of the darkened corner, but the high window’s light shed no relief upon the darkness of the being’s cloaks. They remained nearly as inky as the stark shadow’s contrast they had been born forth from. The young woman seemed neither perturbed nor surprised by the suddenness of the being’s presence, further unsettling me towards her personal disposition towards this craft of darkness. Its manner was unassuming and calm, but exerted an innate, natural duress over those mere humans that were quivering, uncertain, in its wake and presence.]
-My thoughts on the matter.
“[i Shortly,]” Anna said in her clear, calm voice, angling that sweet, oddly detached smile towards Zachary who stood as if struck by her presence once again. Like she hadn’t been realistically present until she had spoken. He was an odd duck, the new guest in the Hackett home. Her head tilted to the side as she considered his distracted, innocently bewildered look at her. He seemed perpetually boyish in his manner and grace as grace indeed did he possess. A delicate, tentativeness coated his very essence, so was Zachary curious himself in the same manner that he seemed to find Anna so strange. The two were undeniably drawn to the strangeness of the other, reservance moreso shared on the side of the Hackett girl, but nonetheless was she enraptured by the forth-bringing of the young man in from the storm.
Stretch and cut.
As if on cue, the shadows of the already shrouded library deepened at once. They warped and grew open almost, Zach blinking as he noticed the change in the atmosphere of the room, grown stagnant and frozen for a mere second. Zachary’s dark eyes lingered on Anna’s pale face a moment longer before a deep chill passed through him, bringing his ever-startled gaze into sharp focus behind her. From the rent shadows came forth a pale shape that sharpened into the look of a bird’s head with hollow, empty eyes. It was just taller than Anna at the time of its appearance until it stretched slowly upward of seven feet. A presence unlike any potency of discomfort and insidious oppression that the young man had ever experience washed in saturated, stifling waves from the epicenter of the phantasm. His eyes widened and his sickly pallor seemed to grow further wan as he shifted away from the appeared being yet hidden bodily from him. It was not the smell of death that had sent the pang of shivering morbidity and meekness into Zachary, but it was what felt like the embodied presence of it should he come in contact with what physical entity there was to be seen.
Anna was by then used to the appearance of the creature, being acquainted with it seemingly since she could remember; as if it had been there even when she was not aware, filling an unrealized hole. She turned calmly with that perpetual, mild smile across her pale lips and looked up at the apparition. “[i Good evening, Tippetarius.]”
Zachary blinked, a look of uncertainty crossing his expression at the mention of the name. Putting such a name to such a creature, even with the reverent syllables, it was almost disillusioning, but as soon as that thought had come to him it was quashed with the reality of the being’s reply. It brought with it the fact that indeed this random and entirely unknown creature that had struck the human as so fearful was indeed not a figment of his exhausted imagination.
“[i Good evening.]” The voice was deep, clear and resonant that from the distance at which Zachary stood he could feel the slight tremor of his tissues in resonance with the utterance. It spoke of a higher purpose in its cadence, the clarity and power in its easily mistaken calm.
“[i Zachary, this is Tippetarius, another resident- of a sort. Coming and going.]” Anna said with complete detachment from the arresting supernatural quality of the being and its bodily effect.
It seemed so beyond comprehension that Zachary found himself reacting accordingly without fully registering his own actions. “Good evening.” The ghostly visage dipped its head in acknowledgment of his statement and Zachary found himself dipping similarly as his gaze traveled back to the young woman, looking at him with that eversoft regard that made him feel, despite his ever-tightening and repressed panic at the unknown, both noticed and considered- two things the young man had grown up destitute of. It was assuring him of the surreality of his situation, acting both as a comfort and a reminder of the fact that that night was a twisted dream that he had yet to awaken from in its vividity.
The creature drew forwards, the shape and color of its body revealed as it pulled itself from the deep shadows it had been concealed in prior. Its mask-like face was shaded by a brimmed hat upon its head, casting shadow itself over the slender neck and crooked, sloping shoulders of the being silhouetted against the moon-washed window panes above, so tall was the being. The rest of its body fell away as a straight, shrouded line vertically downwards to grace the floor with an ever moving hem as if touched by breath of wind when none was present, as far as the human could see in the slanted shadows it yet partially resided in. Taking a moment to process that his eyes raised again to the being’s body- the pale moonlight did little if nothing to alleviate the shadowed nature of the cloaks. It did not reflect nor show much depth to the otherwise deep recess of the blackness of the cloaks’ hue. But yet Zachary noted a perpetual movement just fleetingly noticeable in or neath the fabric, he guessed it was fabric for what else in his knowledge could it be?
[B NOTES FROM THE LOKI AUTHOR SUPREME OVERLORD]
try and set up the skip to the next day
Chitauri shit- get to know the species and their habits/movements better
set up a meeting via Von Strucker, the “nosy little followup”, mainly for the purpose of speaking to Loki that Gweniviere may or may not skip out on cuz fuck that
debate the likelihood that your cinema class actually did vanish into another dimension
reflect on that
Gweniviere researching shit (i.e. Loki , Avengers, LokiAvengers, Tesseract
Remember: Gweniviere is under a lot of emotional stress at that time DO NOT forget to add about that or you lose your atmosphere you silly hentai tentacle!
fucked up zen- work into the night
“those who mayn’t have killed you immediately may get themselves under your skin eventually
Winter Soldier parallels? Once they figured out what they could do with the Winter Soldier they tried ‘decommissioning’ the lieutenant wondering if she would be more efficient
[B The fate of your world. His and your idea of that fate should vary greatly, I’m sure.]
“Certainly,” Gweniviere replied calmly, “Even so, the world must be perpetuated for even his delusion to come to fruition. But, of the two, who would last longer in the end? I do not fear his intentions.”
[B Without fault, how you flatter me. Did I ever claim to be such?]
She scoffed, inclining her head and leveling a serious look with the man tinted barely with fiercely bitter amusement, her mouth twitching into the slight look uncomfortably, “Your manner speaks volumes.”
[B As you should be.]
Gweniviere’s mouth twitched with discomfort once again and she looked away. It was painful already and with his comment it became only worse.
I trust you know your way to your quarters...
The lieutenant pursed her lips, “[B Even if I didn’t…]” she murmured, leaving the sentence and the thought itself unfinished as she turned her attention to the door, her straight form moving easily to the portal, and left his presence, shaking her head. Outside when the door slipped shut behind her the super soldier stood for a moment, her gaze distancing.
Pour le kreaturen Divinity? Remember Patrick's design? Another Priest(ess)
Profilbild für eine Pest-Doktor Charakter, wenn Sie es brauchen als Referenz.
[B Maire-chan!!!!: そして、驚くべきことを忘れないでください！]
[B I HAVE ART FOR THIS THAT I NEED TO SHOW YOU REMIND ME TO DO THIS WHEN YOU ARE ABLE TO RECEIVE SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN]
Tippetarius is an individual of a species I created that are created from the intangible forces and beliefs of humankind that are either disposed of as if in fact intangible and eventually simply converged into a being, or are so believed in that they in the same manner converge into a semi-physical being.
This species possesses a hierarchy within itself about balance. There is a spectrum of station and they believe that strict denomination is key to ‘godliness’ and worth in the human sense. They are above humans obviously and will stress that fact when necessary- for humans are so deluded that they are believed incapable of managing themselves without interference to balance. The species exists as a catalyst to maintain a balance of successful population management. That is simply the way that they function in this world. Some, the ‘pure’ ones cloaked in whites, creams, soft grays or even hued with blue embody religious, magical and godly ideas. Those in blacks and darker grays hued with browns, greens or even reds or dark blues embody humankind’s fears, inconsistencies and act as they who maintain the numbers, the ‘corrupt’ or simply the darker of the spectrum. In this spectrum there is a middle area, the breakers of nature that possess more than one or a few functions, they are mostly grays and browns and neutral, muted, in-between colors. They are somewhat looked down upon within the species, but treated somewhat carefully due to their potential to be stronger than those more revered who are more denominational. For example, those ‘pure’ beings I have characterized embody such things as man’s belief in a higher power, in magic that solves seemingly impossible problems, and in omniscience, purity and sin. These reside in a sort of a church system I based heavily off of Catholic stylization etc. Aside from these specifically, most if not all others are free living and travel at will if capable.
The species is supposed to be a rather obscure one that not very many people know about, even with their prevalence in the church, and are thus in their ambiguity somewhat feared generally due to this, among other obvious reasons. They themselves have little information on their own kind and are believed to have existed just as long if not longer than humans have, but have been the amorphous bodies that ironically engender specific aspects and projections of humankind since those themes and emotions have existed and have only become physical bodies in such great number since the explosion of human population has generated greater concentration of such things as exemplified above with which they may function upon in the mortal plane. Their number is unknown, and it is rather rare for them to come across their own species. It is believed that there are multiples of each denominational being but the creatures themselves may or may not be aware of this.
These creatures, as stated before, are semi-physical as in they may move in between the material and immaterial planes of existence . Depending on the strength of their derivative intangible element they may remain physical AND may effectively use their respective abilities in the physical realm. In example- one of those that represents a much believed in thing such as miracle healing is strong enough to remain physical as long as it wants and may exert powerful influence over humans and such. Or if they are in an area relative to their respective derivative, in example Tippetarius remains in cities where both perceived and unperceived societal madness and disease would flourish it may remain physical and exert its influence without assistance. This assistance is in the form of a mortal anchor, a human or item or other subject that the being would attach a part of its body to in the form of a severed part or if the item itself and what it represented birthed its existence would allow it to hold a physical form without the need for excessive sustenance.
Sustenance is derived from the being’s respective derivative, be it being believed in, being an embodiment of an emotion, psychological projection, or what have you. For instance Nephyrilline the Priest(ess) draws from human faith in miracle or ‘faith healing’. The embodiment of Divine Wrath draws from and can hone in on humanity’s fear of godly wrath etc.
The creatures themselves in their physical bodies take on similar appearances . They all in physical form stand from six to near ten(?) feet tall depending on their formation etc. Their bodies themselves vary in some ways but have a theme of head, neck and shoulders, long, slender, deceptively strong humanoid arms and tentacle-based bodies elsewhere- meaning they have no distinct legs nor do they have a strict skeletal structure of they have one at all. This makes them highly flexible and able to move in a specifically non-skeletal way. Their organs are tentacle-like in shape and may function themselves the same manner as the rest would, if they are not organs they are appendages made up of central cartilage-like bases surrounded by vascular tissues and coiled muscle, which leads to their slender form and deceptive strength. All wear masks of varying style and color but all pertaining to a bird-like nature- these masks are never removed and their function as either an actual mask or as the face of the being is not known. Eyes are almost always empty and without visible physical presence as seen through the mask. Some wear hats, some do not, and some have hoods, it all depends on the individual. All are vested in shrouding cloaks that give their bodies ambiguous form underneath- if I were not the creator telling you this the idea would be that you wouldn’t know exactly was underneath as they neither advertise themselves nor allow humans to investigate as no record of one of these creatures dying has either happened or been recorded. They are like lobsters and jellyfish in that they simply keep on living until something kills them or they become obsolete as humankind continues on its path? I honestly have no idea. Little to no skin is ever shown by these creatures when physically present unless their hands are exposed if at all they are. The color of their skin further reflects their denominational saturation.
Now, Tippetarius specifically is of the more negative, darker spectrum. It’s denominational pedigree is not the highest as it embodies multiple facets of its birthing derivative of humankind, but the saturated inky blackness of its cloaks and stark contrast of the white mask are believed to show its strength and influence. In its physical presence, mostly notably by appearance, the dream eater stands something like seven and roughly a half feet tall by American standards with a mostly straight looking body, shoulders either held straight or bent forwards in the manner of a vulture with a slender, flexible neck and narrow, long head shaded by the brim of the hat it wears; known sometimes to have a wilted or actively wilting flower and/or bud on its cloaks. Tippetarius’ mask-like face emulates the look of a 14th century plague doctor with a white, bird-like mask with a long beak-like nose and empty socket-like eyes. The cloaks are just past floor length and move with the disturbance of tentacles or some other animation just subtly when viewed. They consist of an outer cloak that acts as a form-fitting cowl over head and shoulders and below amorphously shapes the body into a singular, long silhouette, thus emphasizing the presence, size and lack of shape of the body, they part in the center to allow the extension of limbs or other appendages. Underneath those is an inner cloak that shields the body and lends to the hollow-abysmal look of the interior of the outer cloak, it is itself possibly an extension of the creature’s body as the body’s interior tentacles may come through without perceivable slits in the material that allow the forth bringing of the appendages. The only form fitting part of the underclothing is over the perceived ‘torso’ of the being, splitting into sleeves for humanoid arms. The cloaks’ fabric covers all of the body save for the hands, ending in long, fitted sleeves over the arms of the creature. Its skin is a medium-dark gray color with obvious, black veins shown through seemingly thin, perpetually moist skin. The skin of its body underneath the cloaks, namely the tentacles themselves, is entirely inky black and tacky with moisture that either stick to the skin or easily slip across it depending on the use of the appendage at the time. In its ironic look of a plague doctor is nested the paranoid belief that some if not most of the plague doctors were in reality working against those sufferers, or with the devil, and instead spreading the plague, not curing it.
As it is supposed to embody multiple facets of the Black Plague . It is a curious creature somewhat in its specific mesh of elements because it embodies the disease of the plague itself physically present in the creatures flesh and body that was rampant in the 14th century, and of the reality warping madness that humans had created of themselves in the later years of the pestilence as humans started believing that it was divine wrath sent upon them that had brought about the disease and started burning their brethren as witches or seen demons, slaughtering one another suspected of being infected, and punished themselves as tribute to sate the deities that had sent the plague upon them, etc. etc. As such Tippetarius embodies both the fearful disease itself and the consuming madness that encapsulated millions. From that vat of delusion and suffering it came to be. As such being a physical embodiment of an infectious disease the flesh and blood [i under] Tippetarius’ skin is laced with the disease and is highly contagious if one is exposed to anything very far underneath its skin .
Each creature of this species has a specific set of abilities pertaining to their denominational specificity. In Tippetarius’ case it is immensely strong physically to show the preconceived notion that the plague was both incurable and never ending, it is capable of consciously infecting a human being with the Bubonic Plague but is incapable of controlling the disease itself, only the site of infection and the severity of the infection , and it is able to warp the reality of a sentient being if Tippetarius is in direct contact with that subject , [i but] only in so many ways at a time when physically present and not inside the mind/body of the other subject directly. This means that if the subject is asleep, or if Tip is given enough time and/or it is able to either physically or mentally invade and make itself present in the subconscious of the subject only then will it be able to fully manipulate the subject in either consciousness or dreamstate. Tippetarius as a being of nightmares has been deemed a ‘dream eater’ as its sustenance is either of perceived or otherwise the existence of mental instability in the mind of the subject , disease in general , and dreams in general.
Tippetarius is referred to as dream eater, Boneless Plague Ghost, plague monster and derivatives of this terminology.
Each creature is intelligent and capable of both complex thought and speech, some even able to noticeably possess individual character traits. Tippetarius specifically has a low, resonant voice perceived as male despite the lack of gender- and what may be viewed as a calm, intuitive nature with what could be a touch of nobility.
[B Other characters in this species that have been documented thus far are as follows…]
[B Nephyrilline] [i “The Priest(ess)”]
White-cream cloaks edged in silvery material and black and/or white lace reflecting the design of a Catholic Cardinal. Wide brimmed hat , and hood over head.
Mask very similar to Tip’s but painted a creamy color, possessing a smile painted on the beak, similarly hollow eyes.
Cloaks are the most revealing of the species being form fitting and giving the illusion of a humanoid body, over cloaks consist of a capelet edged in the silver filigree and lace with white, eyehole lace as a coverlet, silver sash with emblem of the church around perceived hips.
Pale, whitish skin and pearly veins that look like scars, inner body skin same color.
Embodiment of humanity’s belief in miracle/faith healing and of the holiness/innocence of angelic, white clad beings.
Exerts a noticeable, oppressive, drug-like presence over the subject and forces them into a haze of calm comfort and gives the illusion of soft, milky, effervescent reverence.
Has an androgynous, light, calm voice.
Characteristically mothering and simpering.
[B Rectulus] [i “The Justice” “Divine Wrath”]
Embodies humanity’s fear of and belief in the bringing down of divine wrath upon those worthy and unworthy.
Characteristically ruthless and imposing.
Dark, black cloaks, hunched shoulders, thick neck, hawk-like mask with hollow-looking eyes.
Largely resonant, deep voice perceived as male.
Skin dark, dark gray with obvious, raised veins over surface.
Fingers known to elongate into talons.
[B Entiem Alptraum] [i “Die Kindesentführer” “The Child Stealer” “The Big Bad Wolf”]
The only being of this species known to possess an articulate mask/face that emulates the look of anything but a bird. It’s face is the bare skull of a canine with small, white, marble-like eyes placed in the sockets, may roll around or even fall out- thought to be placed inside the sockets themselves by the creature itself.
Jaw is free moving.
Voice is known to change-
Large shoulders and neck, black fur covered to shoulders where black cloaks take place and fall to floor.
Ambiguous character- overall threatening.
Long, thin, strong hands, offered as almost human-looking, hiding a strong bone structure that supplies claws if needed.
Black, soft, supple skin.
Embodies humanity’s belief in “the big, bad wolf”, and the stories of children disappearing because of witches etc. in the areas surrounding human dwellings.
Only one of the species known to not need mortal anchor nor object to attach itself to become completely solid and free living because of its prevalence in humanity’s lore as the storied canine antagonist- exists basically as nightmare fuel. Perpetuates itself as thus.
[B Wissent] (Vi-sen) [i “The Omniscient” “Seer of Sins” “The Visionary Parable”]
Mask of an owl.
Light or dark gray scholarly cloaks that react to the atmosphere of those in a room, color change subtle yet sudden and shocking as thoughts change in reference to a singular person.
Shoulders hunched forwards, neck held out as a bird’s.
Body known to stretch up and become taller.
Medium-high, breathy, hissing voice- known to screech in condemnation.
Embodies humanity’s fear that their sins are known by god even if they keep them secret
Characterized as quick to anger, highly intelligent, seen as omnipotent.
[B Elspeth] [i “The Breaker of Nature”]
Most skull-like mask/face- yellowish, riddled with cracks.
Characterized as unobtrusive and earnest.
Dark/brown gray cloaks- that of a middle spectrum being.
Quiet, murmuring, androgynous voice.
Ability to physically break a body and change its nature.
[B Arrow to the Knee, Bullet to the Heart]
[i Archive for continuance masterpost- snips and snaps of the narrative to remember what footing you are on with the characters]
The lieutenant's initial introduction into the presence of the Avengers was not without tension. For obvious reasons the woman's stature and previous affiliation was reviling but that was of little concern; S.H.I.E.L.D. could impress whatever it liked about Hydra- but that would not negate the unscrupled, though unadvertised, truth in the end. Gweniviere was participating in the organization's newest endeavor as a strong, available and willing hand. As far as they were aware, as notorious as the woman was, referred to simply as '[i The Lieutenant]' she had given up her ties with Hydra and was offered bodily protection as an at present 'temporary' member.
She was dressed in a German military uniform: black coat, fitted collar, well-fit black pants and black boots to her calf, black leather gloves, and a German military officer's hat on her head. All in all with the stoic, severe expression on her face, her height and the scar on her mouth and the almost stereotypical look of a comic book villain- she expressed a rather intimidating presence as she came into the conference room just behind a blonde young woman who almost reeked of uselessness. No... she smelt of nail polish. Gweniviere's sharp golden eyes went down to the hands of the young woman and saw the color on her nails.
She was no military agent she was someone that probably had some power that S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought in from the streets of America. The lieutenant gave a murmur of distaste as she turned her eyes towards the rest of the room. Her stony presence had been made known as the greetings of the younger woman were made if at all they were given and eyes went to her.
Gweniviere had nodded to Melanie in acknowledgement before her gaze swept coolly around the room and she dipped her head once more, then snapped to attention, folding her arms behind her back and clicking her heels. "[B I am Lieutenant Gweniviere Nietzsche,]" the soldier said in a clear, but understandable German accent as she spoke English. Her tone was succinct and to the point and held the animation of a seasoned military soldier. "[B I am the temporary member who has been brought to S.H.I.E.L.D. to assist in your endeavor.]"
There was a silence that settled over the room as she said that. There was more understanding of them than there was probably from the civilian Melanie of her history. After all even if they weren't briefed they had a loose-lipped, notorious hacker Tony Stark to inform them.
Hydra had been a destructive, cruel and imposing force looming over Europe during the second world war- and they had not been forgotten after the tentative death toll being set at 12 million souls. There was the faint glimmer of the emblem of Hydra on her collar lapel: the tentacles and the skull was a small, silver pin that showed up easily against the grim color of the woman's uniform. With the appearance of that Gweniviere was an ambiguous and unsettling body to see if they knew what she was.
There was tenseness especially from one similarly created to Gweniviere sitting across the room in blue. Capt. Steve Rogers, or Captain America, leveled a tense gaze towards the woman. No doubt he had been informed of her appearance to work with them but things always came sharply into reality at the physical appearance of an individual.
Steve was, of course, the first one in the conference room. He was always punctual, it was just something he endeavored to manage. Tony had been late. Frankly he was planning on arguing with Clint about his lateness also but didn't get a chance as Tony was making a comment about being a 'pretty boy' to him and 'sucking up like a school kid'. Clint had made his comment just as Steve was about to reply.
Thinking better of it he sighed audibly, giving Stark a sharp glance before sitting straight in his seat and seeing the first, blonde girl come in. He stood up as a gentleman and nodded to her, "[+blue Good morning. Welcome to the team.]" he said calmly, gazing at her briefly. She didn't look like a military person with her bright makeup and painted nails. Perhaps her experience lay more with how Black Widow operated, in espionage? That would have allowed her to keep that girlish quality about her, he suspected. His lips twitched in a slightly smirking smile.
Suddenly there was the appearance of another woman. Steve was initially simply surprised by the secondary introduction until he saw the glimmer of the emblem on the woman's lapel and his hands tensed on the table top, but he didn't sit down. His dark blue eyes went over her tensely as Clint went over to her immediately it seemed, without fear, or it was just the impeccable mask that SHIELD agents seemed capable of wearing.
The connected events that affected him personally during that time it was yet a sore wound to think of Hydra. His lips pursed as his eyes went back to the girl Melanie briefly. Her personality outright was something he wouldn't trust, all this business with spies and such, but the other one, Lt. Nietzsche, was overtly threatening simply due to her basic existence as a yet remaining entity pulled from a time he thought was long gone, yet painfully not so far away. After being frozen for something close to seventy years everything was still fresh in his mind- the horror he ran into, the personal losses.
"[+gray Calm down, soldier, if Fury has let her in then there is no need to worry.]" came Natasha's flat tone from where she was seated as if she could read the lines of his thoughts. But she too allowed her gaze to stray back towards the woman- studious and intent.
Steve sighed and nodded, then sat down. "[+blue Right. Let's get this meeting started. It's more important. Everyone take a seat.]" he paused, knowing he was sounding like the leader again. That was another thing that got Stark to argue with him, if he started acting like a leader because apparently that man had an inferiority complex or something of that nature. Steve sighed quietly just as he felt Tony open his mouth, yes he felt it because it made his skin crawl with unsettlement and defensiveness, like a chemical or something exuded on Stark's breath or something. "[+blue Please.]" he amended, looking around apologetically as he leaned his elbows on the table, gesturing at the rest as he spoke, indicating empty seats.
[+pink Melanie-] [i The blonde noticed the other female behind her, shivering slightly in fear. These people were strong and experienced in actual combat with enemies. Melanie had indeed been a spy, been that was the whole reason why she agreed to work at SHIELD. She needed to erase her past and start all over. And seeing the people she was going to be working with, that was going to be extremely hard to.
She watched Gweniviere take her seat and she raised an eye slightly. The female looked tough and scary almost. Melanie definitely did not want to get on her bad side. ]
Gweniviere hesitated only briefly at the man's offering of his hand, her golden eyes turning to his expression calmly. She was somewhat surprised by his boldness, but assumed that perhaps either he was a 'friendly sort' or was trying to get a closer look at her. Her pale, thin lips curved into a mild smile that was barely noticeable, her expression remaining calm otherwise as the Lieutenant kept her gaze calm and unreadable. "[B I may be a foreigner,]" she said, meeting his hand with a strong grip, the leather of her gloves squeaking just barely as it met his skin. "[B but I am not uncivilized, Amerikaner. (American) Do please excuse my broken English. For as long as I have been around, English is yet my second language.]"
Gweniviere nodded to Clint and gestured towards the table as she stepped around the man and then chose one of the empty seats, seated between the Dr. Banner and Tony Stark. She listened quietly as Melanie spoke, frowning a bit. She sounded like she was lying.
Nathasha looked over at Melanie, "[+gray Melanie, I think if you are going to claim that you are from Minnesota,]" she explained, shifting her weight in her seat and crossing her arms in a matter of fact fashion, "[+gray you should work on your Minnesota accent.]" The red haired agent said, but didn't pursue the subject.
"[+red Frankly,]" Tony added glibly, as he sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, he glanced at everyone to make sure all eyes were on him before he continued. "[+red I think she sounds French.]" Stark glanced at Melanie, gesturing at her dismissively, "[+red Pardon me, I- read your file. It was rather enlightening, actually. Spying. What on earth could France be doing?]"
Steve gave him a dubious look, "[+blue You hacked into France's secure files?]" he asked incredulously as if the billionaire's antics were still a surprise to him.
Tony blinked, pausing a moment before looking at him, "[+red Yeah. I did. What're they gonna do, throw cheese at me? Ohh...]" he shook his head with a dismissive grimace before leaping to the next subject with almost eagerness, "[+red And you-]" he pointed at Gweniviere, his brows quirking, "[+red are the cherry on top of this suspicious ordeal here. A Hydra agent not only as old as the relic over here,]" he gestured to Steve offhandedly, "[+red but one of its officers.]" the dark haired man leaned forward in his chair, leaning his elbow on the table top and crossing his arms on the table, "[+red You've aged beautifully, Lieutenant Nietzsche]" he spat, struggling over the German pronunciation, looking around again, "[+red And we all know what that means, don't we? I find it curious after the Hydra shenanigans how you end up here when Fury was so, well, furious at your lot for destroying his organization right- under- his- nose. So, girly, what's your game?]"
Steve simply shook his head, sighing.
Gweniviere crossed her arms over her small chest, looking unimpressed, "[B Finding my files is no hefty feat, arroganter mann.] [B Who do you expect is going to pat you on the back and give you praise for finding this out? I am far less renowned than your Captain, here, but the whole world keeps track of who has what if you have not gotten my file from your director, Herr Fury already.]" she said calmly, her gaze travelling around the room. "[B I do not expect any of you to like me or what I have done. I would not have any of you expect similar from me. I simply want you to tolerate me, that is all I ask. I have become a part of this to succeed as you wish to. I care little for world views I am only interested in keeping the world safe so that it can continue in its horrid, bigoted, human way. I don't care to change the world I simply want to perpetuate its existence as we know it. I am a soldier, not a dictator.]"
Stark countered immediately, "[+red Sounds like a lot of world views for not having any. Y'know, you remind me of a certain Asgardian mischief-maker I knew once-]"
Thor looked confused, perking up at the mention of 'Asgardian' and glancing between everyone as they were talking, his forearms rested on the tabletop. Dr. Banner then spoke up, gesturing at them, "[+purple Hey, hey, hey guys. C'mon. Not everyone is perfect, we're all just- can we get to the point, please?]"
Gweniviere glanced at the man, nodding to him and directing her gaze back towards Tony with a silent question to see if he wished to continue, waiting for it. He gave her a long look, then threw his hands up, "[+red Well I think it's suspicious, that's all.]" he pointed at her, "[+red I've got my eye on you, sauerkraut.]"
Gweniviere gave him an amused smile, "[B I do not doubt it, Herr Stark.]" she said, nodding calmly to him before her expression became passive again.
[+green Character response note- Agent Barton/Hawkeye-] [i She was so mysterious, Clint made it his personal mission to figure out what she was about. Thank God for the change.]
[+blue Character response note- Captain watched by Gweniviere] [i His eyes caught the detached, observant gaze of Gweniviere and he grew still as he saw her attention was on him specifically. Dropping his eyes he laced his fingers before him and leaned his elbows on the table, bringing them up to his mouth as he sighed quietly.]
When the sorry excuse for a briefing was adjourned Gweniviere had hardly glanced up when she saw Melanie was already out the door running. “[B Pathetic, pig headed girl!]” the Hydra lieutenant snapped angrily under her breath. She crossed her arms her her nose wrinkled in disgust. As the others milled about, less inclined to vanish than the youngest of them, the silvery haired soldier was approached by the only other woman left who offered her hand.
“[+gray Agent Romanov. Lieutenant.]” the redhead said officially.
Gweniviere moved to meet her hand and shook, “[B A pleasure, agent. I admit I have only heard popular rumor about you but what I have heard suggests you are an intrepid and skillful individual to come across. It is an honor.]”
“[+gray Thanks. And I’ve heard a little of you, super-soldier. The Hydra appendage and weapon, lieutenant. I can’t say that on this side it’s been good. Impressive, but not good from here, I’m afraid.]” Natasha said as the two women let go.
Gweniviere crossed her arms, tossing an offhanded hum of amusement as she glanced at Steve who seemed to be waiting to have a word. “[B Yes. I would not have expected anything else. But now I hope that all the news you have been given can translate into some twisted form of trust now that we seem to be working together, mm?]” she tilted her head, looking down at the shorter woman with her stoically calm expression.
Agent Romanov gave her a slight quirk of a smile, almost a smirk, really, and nodded. “[+gray We’ll see, at least. I know for a fact the Captain isn’t too excited about your previous alignment.]” she said, turning and raising her voice so it carried to the man standing and watching them. He perked up as he figured out he was being addressed and gave the two of them an uncertain look as he came forwards.
He offered his hand as well and she uncrossed her arms to shake, both nodding impersonally towards one another. “[+blue Lieutenant.]”
Gweniviere nodded, “[B Captain.]” His grip was firm and he held her hand a moment longer without releasing. The lieutenant didn't resist but met the man's eyes steadily. His expression was tight lipped but bridged with politeness and an almost innate trepidation visible in his eyes. A soft concern that piqued the lieutenant's attention, but also touched on her cynicism.
“[+red Sauerkraut!]” came Tony Stark’s voice from across the room as he came up to her as well. Both Steve and Gweniviere sighed quietly with the approach of the tiring man and released one another's hand. Stark was followed by Dr. Banner. “[+red Are you ready for your test questions?]” Gweniviere shook hands once more with the quieter man- he had soft hands and a slipping, tentative grip. Stark crossed his arms pointedly, slipping his hands under his armpits and giving her a chellenging look. Gweniviere hadn't expected him to offer- he was not the only one who didn't trust the woman but he was certainly the most floridly effusive about it. Steve said little and Natasha listened more than she spoke, Clint and Thor seemed to have left.
“[B I will answer as I see fit. Simply because I intimidate you does not mean I have no right to privacy.]” the super soldier said calmly, leveling her even gaze with his over-acted one that was supposed to look piercing as he narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head back.
He paused a moment, assessing her momentarily, and then spoke, putting his hands on his hips, "[+red You don't intimidate me.]"
Gweniviere shifted to the side, folding her hands behind her back, "[B Evidently.]" she said with softly sarcastic dissent but allowed him to continue.
Stark nodded quietly, shifting his own weight, being much shorter than the German woman, as if it would make him more of an imposing figure, and spoke finally. "[+red What's your favorite color?]"
The lieutenant took pause, blinking with confusion at being honestly caught off guard and leaned a slight bit closer. "[B I beg your pardon?]" Gweniviere was not the only caught off as the captain made a similar expression.
The man shifted his weight again as if encouraged by his easy besting of the woman's seemingly impossible cool. He nodded, "[+red See, I've heard that a person's favorite color tells a lot about them. Some study done by people I don't remember.]" Tony gave a dismissive wave and continued, "[+red What's yours, Fraulein? Red? Blue? Black? Mine's yellow- it's nice. Cheery.]"
He pointed to Natasha who gave him a faint smile, nodding, "[+gray Blue.]"
Tony nodded with a faint flash of a grin and looked back at the subject the question was directed at, finger held out to point at her again. "[+red I bet yours is red- a sort of 'blood of your enemies' thing? Yeah?]" His manner looked almost nervous the way he kept shifting and nodding his head despite the almost unreadable nature of his expression.
The lieutenant shook her head faintly, gaze uncertain, "[B I- don't have a favorite color.]"
"[+red See? And in saying that- it says a whole lot about you even in technically not answering.]"
Gweniviere blinked slowly, crossing her arms as her expression recovered and returned to its state of cold passiveness. "[B And what does that say about me, Herr Stark?]" she asked in what sounded like skeptical curiosity.
He blinked, opening the bag of blueberries he had procured from an unseen pocket with an audible noise. The man's pause lingered a moment longer before he said with an offhanded shrug, "[+red Oh, I'm not telling.]" he stated, popping some in his mouth.
The German super-soldier paused again, "[B Then what was the point of bringing it up?]"
"[+red To see what you'd say, obviously. You're less perceptive than I thought. I've unsettled you. See?]"
Pulling a slow breath Gweniviere straightened to her full height over the short man and sighed quietly, the sound harsh through the respirator's filters. "[B I see. Well, now that you have accomplished this goal do you feel better now? Utter nonsense unsettles me, by your assessment- does it not other people?]"
He gave her a curious look, tipping his head and narrowing his eyes slightly as he assessed her soundlessly as if considering something. "[+red Snappish, sauerkraut. I bet you were bullied as a child.]"
[B Seen as an 'cinematic'
written as such for a script because I'm used to it]
[i [+red interrogation]]
[B It's really horrible, I know, dear reader. It's just a rotting skeleton of a scene, calm thyself I know I am better than this.]
Lieutenant Gweniviere Franziska Nietzsche entered the office and shut the door behind her, drawing her pistol and pointing it at the man. "[B Victor Steinman?]"
He turned and saw the weapon, his watery, bulging eyes widening and becoming more grotesquely pronounced with the movement. Wrinkled, thin lips trembled in surprise and umbrage as Dr. Steinman looked from her to the gun on her hip, then back, and at the door as if her bodily threat had not yet registered and glared at her, wiry brows drawing together and shadowing his small eyes. "[+green What on earth do you think you're doing?]" the man demanded, looking miffed by her tone of command over him, wariness crossing his expression at her presentation of the weapon.
Gweniviere advanced, tilting her head in a gesture towards the desk, "[B Herr Steinman I am going to have to ask you to sit in that chair.]" the woman said, her imposing height becoming apparent the closer she got.
Dr. Steinman's brows shot up and he backed away, shouting in his rough, grisly voice, "[+green Help! Help me in here!]"
"[B Your security officers have been dismissed. Did you really think I wouldn't ensure this was a private meeting? We are here to discuss your career in Hydra.]" The lieutenant said with a disgusted look shadowing her features.
The wariness in the short doctor's frog like face spread to ill-hidden panic as he stepped away, leaning his hands against the desk. "[+green What are you talking about?]"
She drew no closer, instead keeping steady, serious eye contact with the man and spoke in a more pronounced, clipped tone. "[B I said- sit down.]" He put his hands up and did as directed, his skin paling some as he realized the sincerity of the threat- though undoubtedly his little mind, rusted with years of indulgence, self-importance and bloated influence yet felt doubt towards the woman's use of force, the truth of the threat- for after all he was important, was he not? Who was this military [i woman] to threaten him so. When he sat finally the lieutenant's stance changed finally, slipping the gun into it's place and pulling a chair herself. Sitting on it the super soldier crossed her arms and balanced one knee atop the other, giving her a deceptive look of relax. "[B It seems you've been acting on behalf of the board, carelessly might I add, making favors and claims far above your relevancy, Dr. Steinman.]" the lieutenant said calmly, watching his expression with steady, experienced cool. her golden eyes barely flickered as she took in the delicate, little lines and nuances of the man's sad excuse for a facade. He replied to her with silence. After a moment the lieutenant sat forwards, leaning her arms on her knees and leveled her gaze with the man's, speaking in a quiet, unassuming tone. "[B Is your ego so bloated to make you think that Hydra would let you get away with this?]"
His face fell for a moment of horrified realization before it was inundated with anger at her words. Dr. Steinman's voice shook with the ire that tensed his whole gelatinous being as it barely spilt from the confines of the chair he was seated in. "[+green How dare you say such things to me.]"
The lieutenant was unfazed by the man's anger and remained where she was, meeting the man's gaze with her own unfettered seriousness that evidently shook the man to the core when she did not move an inch at his display of unrest. "[B I can say whatever I like to you, Dr. Steinman.]" Gweniviere said calmly, reaching and taking out the knife from her boot and presenting it in a relaxed manner in her hand to the man, showing her comfort with the weapon. "[B Do you know why?]"
Dr. Steinman's eyes drifted to the knife and briefly to the gun on her hip before returning back to her with trepidation, "[+green What are you going to do with that?]"
"[B I am going to do what I need to get you to tell me in detail what you said Hydra was going to do for these people.]" Steinman's eyes focused on the knife again as she continued to speak. "[B This is a very grievous error on your part, thinking that you were smarter than Hydra, doctor. You don't think that people talk? Advertising yourself as such a bigshot, to use the American term- who do you think you were fooling?]"
The man's hands gripped the arm rests of the chair, "[+green I don't know what you're talking about!]" he spat.
Gweniviere's mouth twitched just barely, "[B Now, we both know that is a lie.]" she said quietly, rising to her feet. "[B I would not suggest lying to me let's try again- I can be patient every now and again.]"
"[+green I've been set up!]" Steinman croaked roughly.
The woman moving suddenly and catching the man by the throat, pushing him and the chair across the floor and up against the wall. "[B Wrong answer.]"
[i "camera" cuts to outside view of hallway, panning to the side over an open door within which a security station is seen and the partial form of a man yet bleeding, alive for the present, slumped in his chair. The sound of Dr. Steinman screaming is heard through the closed door of his office.]
[i Cut scene]
Gweniviere paces towards the door, anger clear across her face shown through the tightness of her jaw and the glint in her eye. Over the pained sounds of the man off camera the super soldier whirls around and throws the knife- sinking it into the wall next to Steinman's head. "[B That's not the right answer, Steinman! You're not working with me. This is not a good employee-employer relationship you are nursing.]" she announced heatedly. "[B As part of the board I need to be able to trust you and you're not letting me trust you!]"
"[+green I'm not a part of the board! I'm not part of the board!]"
Gweniviere returns to the man, planting her hands on top of his trapped on the armrests and leans down to him, "[B Really, Dr. Steinman? But you just told me that you were a rightful member, didn't you? How is that?]"
"[+green I lied! I lied! I am not a part of the board!]"
Gweniviere pinched the man's cheek forcefully, shaking his head vigorously before letting go, "[B Good, [i good] we're making headway.]" she said, clapping her hands once, the bloodstained leather snapping with finality as the lieutenant skirted the chair and pulled the knife blade free from the wall. "[B But that leaves one small problem. And this problem specifically cannot be fixed as easily-]" returning to Steinman's front Gweniviere slipped the knife back into its holster and turned towards him partially. "[B it's a matter of anonymity. With your gallivanting about advertising Hydra's presence that puts our whole existence in jeopardy- staging this charade as a secret favor system to get you closer to those you envy, that disgusting pedestal you elevate yourself on- it can't be fixed. Even rumors stem from truth- people can't be relied upon to keep their mouths shut, doctor. You know that. Hydra can't have a loose-lipped little nit like you sucking at the power that you think you are entitled to and getting drunk off of its false opiate, making you think you are above your station.]"
Steinman blubbered something unintelligible, resembling a string of slurred '[i I'm sorry, don't do this please, don't do this.]' utterances spoken through broken teeth and swollen, bloodied lips.
Gweniviere shook her head a bit, drawing nearer, "[B You are a cog, and you need to be replaced.]"
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.