Shtuffy shtuff shtuff ideas

/ By Tweedy [+Watch]

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Roleplay Responses

Pour le kreaturen Divinity? Remember Patrick's design? Another Priest(ess)

[pic http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs51/i/2009/305/f/0/Plague_Doctor_Mask_by_IceandSnow.jpg]

[pic http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2011/045/a/b/the_plague_doctor_by_sturgeonsurgeon14th-d39l0g0.jpg]

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!]
  Tweedy / 4y 305d 20h 30m 14s
[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.
  Gweniviere / Tweedy / 4y 305d 20h 27m 16s
[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]
[+red EXPANDED]

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.]"
  Tweedy / 4y 319d 9h 43m 1s
[B Seen as an 'cinematic'
written as such for a script because I'm used to it]
Gweniviere-
[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.]"
  Tweedy / 4y 313d 9h 48m 11s
[B Just bits of narrative- AU?] [+red Give it to O'Brien-san tomorrow to start the line.]

Gweniviere combed her fingers, blackened with dye, through her hair. The white was being masked under a layer of black- slowly as the lieutenant worked in the color into her hair- going from a dingy, greasy looking gray to an eventual, inky black. The dye was staining her skin as well, she assessed, and would wash out in the shower. But at least looking at her skin at that moment it didn't seem like it would. Looking back up at the mirror she noticed now with her hair so dark- her eyes didn't look so much golden as they did a sharp yellow now. That would have to be hidden as well. Pulling the towel around her shoulders more she then washed her hands, leaving them partially gray for the time being until the color would come off. Snagging the box she glanced over the instructions- "[B Leave in one hour and then shower as normal]" Gweniviere murmured to herself, frowning. [i One hour? That seemed quite short- but the dye was thick and slick enough, it would most likely stick just fine.]

Sighing quietly she slicked her hair back over her head and turned towards the hall. Using dish soap would most likely help get the dye off of her skin faster.
  Gweniviere / Tweedy / 4y 322d 22m 37s
Memory
[B A Cold Winter]
For future reference or use...

Gweniviere remembered the first bitterly cold day of winter that snow had fallen when she was seven. All of them, she and her siblings, had good boots and winter coats that a neighbor's children had grown out of. It was such kindness for instead of them cutting the coats up for other purposes they had been given to the Nietzsche family. Her mother was so happy that she couldn't stop crying every time she saw any of them that day, in or out of the clothes. She would press her fingers to her lips and pull the children into her arms.

[i Their mother looked at her three children with soft, teary pride. Dietrich, Nadja and little Gweniviere. The three children all had proper boots and winter coats on- she couldn't be happier.]
  Tweedy / 4y 324d 3h 41m 28s
[B Gweniviere]
[B Cemetery]

Gweniviere entered the cemetery and made her way to a specific gravestone. She had on a long, dark coat and her military cap and in her hands was a small gathering of flowers. The day was balmy and overcast, the sun lost behind a mask of white- the sort of day that cast no shadows on the ground. On the approached grave's face was carved the name ‘[i Hilda Schultze]’ and the date. It lacked the Hydra symbol on it for reasons that Gweniviere considered just, for future’s sake so that the grave was not to be desecrated should things change. The lieutenant stopped in front of this stone and gazed at it with guilt and longing in her eyes. Her last and most valuable sister.

Standing in front of it, sadness dimmed her gaze as she removed her hat. Gazing at the stone a few moments she finally spoke softly in German to the memorial, “[B I do not know if I should visit more often or if I visit too often as it is.]” Gweniviere murmured, tilting her head back with a very weak, bare prick of a smile. Her eyes squinted towards the bright, sunless sky before lowering again. The lieutenant stepped forwards to place the flowers in her hand against the stone, after which drawing back again. She didn’t speak for some time, studying the stone it seemed. Her lips pursed“[B I miss you, lieber freund. I just hope to gott you didn’t suffer as much as I think you did.]” Her mouth twitched, the woman's weak, wheedling voice trembling as she brushed her hand over her eye to dispose of trembling tears. Even seventy years later it hurt almost as badly as it did that first night without her. For now, Gweniviere was the only one left- and the heavy weight of her guilt for surviving pressed down as harshly as it ever had been. “[B I feel like I’ve lost my way, Hilda. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore or why. Sometimes I can hardly keep going. The past, you, my family- it is all so far away from me now. I can hardly remember what any of you look like.]” Gweniviere took a shaky breath, her voice breaking, and wiped her other eye with a stifled sob, her voice losing what little strength it had to begin with. “[B Perhaps, in the infinite wisdom of the afterlife if there is one you have been shown an error in your ways during life- and as such in mine. Maybe you look down upon me from where you are with pity because I am yet burdened with life’s ignorance.]” The soldier sobbed, her lips trembling with emotion, but she kept them pressed tightly together. “[B I don’t know anymore. I wish I could ask for help-]” Gweniviere sobbed and pushed the heel of her hand into her eye, looking up at the sky again and taking a ragged breath. Her shoulders shook barely as a silence fell, pierced only by broken-sounding sobs as she was overcome. The cemetery was a safe place for the lieutenant, always had been since she was young. It was quiet, secluded, peaceful, and outside. "[B but there is no one I can actually go to help for. Not anymore.]"

“[B I just-]” she spoke, tear-filled eyes looking sadly at the grave marker. “[B I don’t know anymore why I am doing this. I don’t think I can keep doing this. But I can’t stop! I’ve dedicated my life to this and I can’t go back. They won’t let me- and there is nothing for me even if I tried. But-]” she drew a ragged breath, “[B I struggle to even feign conviction!]” Turning her head to the side she covered her mouth with her hand, other slipping over the back of her head through the silvery white of her hair. “[B I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost. I keep telling myself I’ve only hit a low point but- it’s so hard to keep thinking that when I don’t see any proof. Just- any proof that I am doing something good anymore. That I am striving for something still attainable- or just- anything at all. What am I even doing anymore?]” Trailing off, the lieutenant sighed and ran her hand through her hair once more, growing quiet. After some minutes she spoke again, quietly, “[B It is obvious that old habits die hard if even now I am afraid to face my family with any of this,]” Gweniviere scoffed bitterly, “[B even in death. Even after seventy goddamn years.]” The soldier hissed in a hard tone, clenching her teeth together and dropping to her knees, her right hand reaching out to steady herself. “[B I’m still the same little asthmatic girl from Dresden trying to appease her country and her dying mother and I will never be any different.]” Again dissolving into tears she had long held back, for months, some for years; Gweniviere cried. She pressed her hands to her eyes, curling in on herself, and cried.

“[B I’m losing my mind, Hildie. I am. Had I known I would end up like this I would have- I would have-]” she stopped, pressing her lips together, “[B Oh, who am I kidding. I couldn’t have done a goddamn thing! Nothing! Nichts! I would have died… had I not done it I would have died. Now here I am, dead anyways. Much good I turned out...]”
  Gweniviere / Tweedy / 4y 324d 3h 33m 55s
[+red Short Scene]
[i scene- Gweniviere seated, trapped somehow, in a chair] . [i Typical interrogation room the likes of which NCIS has shown. Gretchen standing walks behind her and leans down to speak in a quiet, but clearly angered tone, running her hands possessively over the seated super soldier. She hisses and spits the words into the ear of her tight-lipped, forcibly uninterested, subject. Gweniviere keeps her gaze distanced and turned towards the mirrored glass, seeing herself stoically staring back as if blaming her for the psychological birth and realistic projection of the lieutenant's repressed mentality.]

"[B You know what your biggest fear is?]" She hissed, her voice quickly becoming vicious as she halted her progression across the room to lean down to Gweniviere's level. "[B Forgetting. You're afraid to forget anything- who you are or where you came from- because otherwise you'll lose what little is left of 'yourself', whatever that means to you. You use that word a lot. Honestly, in my opinion I don't even think [i you] know who 'you' are. But- don't think I don't have a pretty damn good idea what that little 'thing' is. That little, tiny piece of yourself that still cries for justice. The thing that prevents you from turning into me? Right? The one thing you think I can't touch.]" Gretchen said, running her tongue over the inside of her mouth. She stood and slipped Gweniviere's hat off of her head, the item landing in the woman's lap, and ran her fingers through the pale white of her hair. "[B Thing is-]" the black clad soldier continued, moving around the side of the table and facing the silent lieutenant, laying her palms on the smooth surface, and leaning close, eye to eye. She lowered her voice to a quiet, chillingly serious level. "[B you're out there being a sad, ridiculous excuse for a hero and I'm in here. In reality it's you who can't touch me. Don't think I don't know how you think you've lost your way- and how you're worried that you'll spiral down to my level.]" Gweniviere's golden, stiffly managed gaze met the harsh yellow of the psychological projection's. "[B Well sweetheart I have news for you- you will [i never] get rid of me no matter how hard you try- how you ignore me- because you just can't admit that you love me- and you need me. Otherwise you would become me because my existence is the only thing that keeps you certain that you're sane. I am the thing that you rely upon like a drug to keep you going in the direction you swear to your holy god is the opposite of mine.]" With that the serious look twisted into a satisfied, leering smile as Gweniviere's expression froze in horror, her eyes widening. "[B I know you won't see it but you and me, kid? We're the same. You just don't want to accept it. I don't think you realize that I have my fingers in every fucking thing you do or say. I know how to make you work and I know how to get what I want out of you. But I don't really have to try- you do it on your own. You're closer than you think and I love to see how atrociously stupid you are.]"

The lieutenant drew back in her seat, her expression twitching with uncertainty, shadowed with outrage. "[B Get away from me.]" she hissed in a tremulous tone. Gretchen leaned instead closer, tilting her head and licking the tip of the other's nose with a cackle of satisfaction. Gweniviere seized Gretchen's collar and threw her to the floor, standing up finally, her breath hissing in with vehement, seething anger. "[B Don't you touch me!]"

Gretchen only laughed, pushing herself up into a kneeling position and leered at the lieutenant. "[B Don't touch me?]" she repeated incredulously, amusement written on her face, her strangely white teeth glinting as her lips pulled in a wide smirk. "[B You're so droll- I'm not supposed to be real, remember? How could I? You're just feeding your own delusion!]" The lieutenant's teeth grit together and she struck Gretchen across the face, throwing her to the floor. In the [i grievously vivid] color of the delusion, the blood was bright red as the stained, crazed smile was turned back up to Gweniviere stretcted upon the pale face of the other woman. "[B Oh, now you want to fight?]" Gretchen said, her speech uninhibited by the blood in her mouth. With that she twisted around and moved to sweep Gweniviere's legs out from under her.

The lieutenant saw it predictably as she would have done the same and in turn moved to [i hop] [+green ] over it but was too slow and her right leg was kicked from under her, sending her toppling into the table and finally to the floor. In her effort to stop herself her nose [i crunched] [+green ] against the edge of the metal table and immediately bled, possibly broken. Finally grabbing hold and pulling herself from the floor she put her fingers to her upper lip and saw her own blood. Gretchen had stood while she was doing this, giving her a mean smile, head tilting, "[B Now how real am I? You can't even wake up.]"

[+red Realization, blah, blah, blah. Edit this heavily. Gretchen's speech has more than one objective subject thingie and I'm sure that's confusing. Find someone to vet it???]
  Tweedy / 4y 326d 21h 33m 31s
[pic http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/ef/11/30/ef11300b762f19b9c67616679f82c3b0.jpg]

Votre psychopathe semble un peu mieux que vous avez imaginé, non? Cela pourrait être look original avant cicatrices ... Circa 1940?

[B Gretchen Fleischer]

Character Def.
[+red Synonyms you want to give her:]
-bold means prevalent in character: see if this changes

mercenary
warped
[B chilling]
[B virile]
[B predatory]
[B unsettling]
perverted?
vindictive
unpredictable
skewed
off
[B sick/sickening?]
sinister
insidious
moribund? wanna use this word somehow so badly
[+red What you want from her as a character:]
[B NOT] insane- don't write insanity she is in control and she likes it. let others come to that conclusion if applicable.
Make it more of a 'letting go, little regard for appearances' versus gweniviere. Be a reflection and expand upon that
openly, hungrily sexual
I want her to be a very uncomfortable character to write and to read. She will be slick and disgusting but that is what she needs to be to set her apart from other openly "villainous" characters you have made and written. Think Emilie turned into a soldier with legitimate power, but draw back from the heavy note of '[i bestial critter from your nightmares lurking under the skin of a human being]' part. Or take it if you feel it is appropriate. {AU preferably- for the 'life's greatest lie' rp is officially Gweniviere's original uni}
[B THIS IS A CHALLENGE. SHE MUST BE HORRIFIC.]

[+red Theoretical activity ONLY. Everything is fluid. She isn't real yet.]

Snips and snails so far only... you know the drill.

Gretchen grabbed Gweniviere and slammed her against the table. "[B I am everything you want to be! Everything you crave to do! I would be what you turn into if only you didn't care. You just hate to admit that you love every image I put into that pretty little, hypoctritical head of yours.]"
-

"[B You want me.]" Gretchen hissed, pressing her face closer to Gwen's, roughly brushing her hair back with a cruel grin. "[B You [i want] me to be real. Then you wouldn't have to take responsibility.]"
-


"[B Oh, sweetie you don't know [i half]of the things i want to do to you.]" Gretchen snickred, crossing her arms and bringing her feet up onto the table. Her golden eyes roved over the man's figure for a moment before narrowing slightly with what looked like some warped form of appreciation as the corner of her mouth slipped into a predatory, smirking grin.
-

"[B You will never be rid of me! Not unless there is some magic fucking serum to wipe your past and memory. I'm you.]"
-


"[B I'm what she would have turned into had she given into all of those nasty, terrible things that she's seen and thought; dyed hair and all.]" Gretchen said, holding her arms out to be assessed. "[B What do you think, handsome?]"
-

"[B There's a fair share of this lot about you. Mm.]" Gretchen murmured sinisterly, crossing her knees and arms, her shoulders quivering in what looked like anticipation. "[B You've hit quite a nerve- well, nerves. It;s a mess, mess, mess. And you-]" the projection crooned, tilting her head. "[B you're a mess too, aren't you? I'm sure I can see that reflection, that light. Ooh, god almighty I want to feel that light] ."
-

[+blue Short Scene]
scene- [i Gweniviere seated, trapped somehow, in a chair] . [i Typical interrogation room the likes of which NCIS has shown. Gretchen standing walks behind her and leans down to speak in a quiet, but clearly angered tone, running her hands possessively over the seated super soldier. She hisses and spits the words into the ear of her tight-lipped, forcibly uninterested, subject. Gweniviere keeps her gaze distanced and turned towards the mirrored glass, seeing herself stoically staring back as if blaming her for the psychological birth and realistic projection of the lieutenant's repressed mentality.]

"[B You know what your biggest fear is?]" She hissed, her voice quickly becoming vicious as she halted her progression across the room to lean down to Gweniviere's level. "[B forgetting. You're afraid to forget anything- who you are or where you came from- because otherwise you'll lose what little is left of 'yourself', whatever that means to you. You use that word a lot. Honestly, in my opinion I don't even think [i you] know who 'you' are. But- don't think I don't have a pretty damn good idea what that little 'thing' is. That little, tiny piece of yourself that still cries for justice. The thing that prevents you from turning into me? Right? The one thing you think I can't touch.]" Gretchen said, running her tongue over the inside of her mouth. She stood and slipped Gweniviere's hat off of her head, the item landing in the woman's lap, and ran her fingers through the pale white of her hair. "[B Thing is-]" the black clad soldier continued, moving around the side of the table and facing the silent lieutenant, laying her palms on the smooth surface, and leaning close, eye to eye. She lowered her voice to a quiet, chillingly serious level. "[B you're out there being a sad, ridiculous excuse for a hero and I'm in here. In reality it's you who can't touch [i me]. Don't think I don't know how you think you've lost your way- and how you're worried that you'll spiral down to my level.]" Gweniviere's golden, stiffly managed gaze met the harsh yellow of the psychological projection's. "[B Well sweetheart I have news for you- you will [i never] get rid of me no matter how hard you try- how you ignore me- because you just can't admit that you [i love] me- and you need me. Otherwise you would become me because my existence is the only thing that keeps you certain that you're sane. I am the thing that you rely upon like a drug to keep you going in the direction you swear to your holy god is the opposite of mine.]" With that the serious look twisted into a satisfied, leering smile as Gweniviere's expression froze in horror, her eyes widening. "[B I know you won't see it but you and me, kid? We're the same. You just don't want to accept it. I don't think you realize that I have my fingers in every fucking thing you do or say. I know how to make you work and I know how to get what I want out of you. But I don't really have to try- you do it on your own. You're closer than you think and I love to see how atrociously stupid you are.]"

The lieutenant drew back in her seat, her expression twitching with uncertainty, shadowed with outrage. "[B Get away from me.]" she hissed in a tremulous tone. Gretchen leaned instead closer, tilting her head and licking the tip of the other's nose with a cackle of satisfaction. Gweniviere seized Gretchen's collar and threw her to the floor, standing up finally, her breath hissing in with vehement, seething anger. "[B Don't you touch me!]"

Gretchen only laughed, pushing herself up into a kneeling position and leered at the lieutenant. "[B Don't touch me?]" she repeated incredulously, amusement written on her face, her strangely white teeth glinting as her lips pulled in a wide smirk. "[B You're so droll- I'm not supposed to be real, remember? How could I? You're just feeding your own delusion!]" The lieutenant's teeth grit together and she struck Gretchen across the face, throwing her to the floor.

In the grievously vivid color of the delusion, the blood was bright red as the stained, crazed smile was turned back up to Gweniviere stretcted upon the pale face of the other woman. "[B Oh, now you want to fight?]" Gretchen said, her speech uninhibited by the blood in her mouth. With that she twisted around and moved to sweep Gweniviere's legs out from under her.

The lieutenant saw it predictably as she would have done the same and in turn moved to hop over it but was too slow and her right leg was kicked from under her, sending her toppling into the table and finally to the floor. In her effort to stop herself her nose crunched against the edge of the metal table and immediately bled, possibly broken. Finally grabbign hold and pulling herself from the floor she put her fingers to her upper lip and saw her own blood. Gretchen had stood while she was doing this, giving her a mean smile, head tilting, "[B Now how real am I? You can't even wake up.]"

Realization, blah, blah, blah. Edit this heavily. Gretchen's speech has more than one objective subject thingie and I'm sure that's confusing. Find someone to vet it????
-

"[B You're just waiting for the serum inside you to fail one day and leave you with nothing but me and a lifetime of memories that turned into a psychosis. It both terrifies and relieves you, that little, weird thought of yours.]"
  Tweedy / 4y 303d 20h 34m 49s
[pic http://i.imgur.com/ODXRnym.png]

[i I lay, my love and I,
beneath the weeping willow.
But now alone I lie,
and weep beneath the tree;
singing 'O Willow Waly'
by the tree that weeps with me.

Singing 'O Willow Waly'
Tell me lover he turns to me.
We lay, my love and I,
beneath the weeping willow.
But now alone I lie.
O Willow I die.
O Willow I die.]

[+purple The Innocents]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_annB8AsLcI

Gweniviere still could not speak when she was in American hands. Note that they didn't dare do anything to her hands for fear that she could not write. The worst threat they could manage would be to open her throat and chest again.

Navy or black mesh suit for combat instead of traditional uniform??? Like Agent Hill or more formal....?

How about some happy memories? You're such a bitch, Nickerson. Seriously she needs something to hang onto- you know for a fact that a cat isn't enough.

Next post note the SHINING BRUISE ON VON STRUCKER'S FACE FROM WHEN GWENNIE DECKED HIM A FEW POSTS AGO

Order only comes through pain.

Name your insane creation Gretchen. No, yes THAT insane creation.
Reflect...
  Tweedy / 4y 328d 22h 47m 47s
IDEA:
Based upon the Silent Hill nurses that react to sound how about a horror idea/game where you are put in a circus grounds area and must find all your items, simply find an exit, hide and seek???
Opening scenes is the evil performance and the crowd running out of the big top tent. Then the music stops and everything freezes.
You have to avoid the creatures during the silence when they are still- and during the music when they move and react to sound- both music and yours if you are close.
It starts out with still, silent creatures everywhere.
  Tweedy / 5y 15d 3h 43m 12s
[B Gweniviere]

Aside from saving the world- If Gweniviere fails Hydra is already going under after the SHIELD incident- if thy can't pull this off it is a repeat of the post-WW2 fall and Gwenviere won't just be a war criminal- with her affiliation with Hydra and it's attack on the world she would be considered a terrorist because of it. She is trying to save herself- it is her last chance.

[B Also]
"I life itself is incapable of killing me I sure as hell have the strength o end my own life if I have to."
  Tweedy / 5y 30d 23h 20m 19s
[B AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT]

Conquerer Fran:
Young girl- school age- attacked by either an alien or a monster something in an alleyway and a creature that somewhat resembles a beanie and uses her body as a vessel to blend in with humans??? OR all it does is integrate with her mind chemically to steer her somewhat- puts thoughts and junk into her head, changes persona etc.

VERY Invader Zim where the human world is a horrible place and NO ONE suspects anything save for one kid who is deemed 'crazy' by the rest but knows what's up? It's really close to the basic storyline of IZ fix it!!!

Possibility of the 'imaginary friend being more real than anticipated'
The hat could just be a mechanism with which the creature may communicate with the girl and the only other kid who can see this creature other than the conquered Fran is Kip and it scares him/drives him mad.
BUT that ability has its possible uses???
  Tweedy / 5y 33d 5h 18m 52s
[B Gweniviere]

NOTES

The [i only] [B important] thing I have decided on/decided to try hard to hve happen in regards to Gweniviere/Loki scene where she finally actually hits him is my suspecting the man is going to make an assumption. Gweniviere HATES assumptions made about her- about anything as complex as an individual person stated as if it were fact without actual, extensive knowledge of that individual.

I.E. super soldier did it to herself for the reason of gaining personal power

Reaction: her fist connected with the side of his facehead. 'Don't you ever, [i ever] assume I did this for personal gain.
  Tweedy / 5y 33d 11h 25m 4s
Gweniviere's arms were crossed over her chest, her hands gripping her arms. She stood with the stolid, militant stance she always had, her expression focused on what she was being shown overhead as a single tear fell. She seemed not to feel nor notice, simply blinking to clear her vision and continuing to consider the maps up on the glass panels. Gweniviere swallowed before speaking, stepping closer and indicating something in the blueprints, asking after the thing.

Can we ignore my personal problems right now there are more important things.

Just an idea for some serious badass coping methods.
  Tweedy / 5y 33d 19h 46m 51s
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