El Taco Taco

Blue Moon

It was wildly different from anything else in her experience. It took her a moment to adjust to the bizarre sensation of her lack of control. Carys breathed deep, willing herself to surrender to Chase's direction, despite the protestations of her own instincts.

They curved through the woods, and Carys turned her gaze skyward, wondering at the quiet. It was staggeringly beautiful here, verdant and lush. She wanted nothing more than to explore it. Soon, she promised herself.

They were accelerating, and Carys' squeak of surprise was swallowed by the purr of the engine and the rush of wind. Her grip on Chase tightened, stomach fluttering and pulse leaping in her skin. The scenery whipped by; before she knew it, the woods had given way to open spaces and houses popping up. Carys felt a laugh bubble out of her, delighted by the rush.

As they darted through town, Carys ran through her own mental map. As they neared the far edge, she spied Aurora. Her knuckles rapped on his shoulder. When he'd slowed enough, she spoke brightly, "I'm all the way at the end here."

Aurora was a straight shot of beautifully manicured bungalows, each more beautiful than the last. They'd have gone for millions of dollars back stateside, she mused, with sprawling floorplans and each with their own distinct charm.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of her two story home, all crisp white wood and black trim with open, friendly windows. The covered porch wrapped around the entire front of the house, with an immaculately tended garden of roses and lilies, shaded by large trees. It was, objectively, a beautiful home. She'd have never been able to have afforded it on our own in all her days.

Carys ignored the tumult in her heart when they pulled into her brick drive. It was easier to ignore it on the tail of the ride, and she sank back into that joy.

Disembarking the bike, Carys rocked on the balls of her feet. She was laughing as she pulled off the helmet, eyes dancing.

"That was awesome!" She enthused, tossing her tousled bangs out of her face, grin wide and heart fluttering like a hummingbird.

Blue Moon

Carys had always jumped feet first, with little care for ‘plans’ or ‘having any idea what she was doing’. It usually worked out alright. Sometimes she came out worse for the wear, with bruised ribs or ego. She hadn’t died yet; she had to at least be doing something right, despite her near pathological recklessness.

Trying something new and actually having a primer beforehand was like being spoiled. Carys listened, suppressing her own impatient need to act as Chase ran through basics, borrowed helmet in her small hands. She could practically feel her blood surging through her veins, desperate to follow this mad impulse through.

It sounded simple enough—not unlike sailing, really. Don’t overthink, find the rhythm in the pitch, trust the craft. Carys knew how to sink into rhythms like she knew how to breathe. Her lips curved into a wide grin, eyes bright at the prospect.

“Don’t get in the way, got it,” she summarized airily. That’s what it boiled down to, really.

Carys was very pleased that placing the (adorable) helmet on her head went off without a hitch. The bike was obnoxiously tall, as was everything else in life, but Carys was surprisingly nimble. Focus, it seemed, was the key.

Settling in behind Chase, her feet found the aforementioned pegs. She hesitated for only a breath before her hands settled at his waist. Because, well, she wasn’t going to waste such a perfectly acceptable opportunity to indulge in physical contact with someone this attractive. Carys was practical like that.

"Okay, This Looks Bad."

Ugh. Not my best post.

"Okay, This Looks Bad."

██████ ████
Moscow

“Наталья.”

It is a rare moment of lucidity.

The training room is quiet. It is late, shadows stretching across stark lines and concrete. She knows that it will not last—she leaves in six hours for somewhere, and they will dose her before she leaves. She will be instinct and fangs and a Widow.

Right now, she is something else entirely. The facility is secured for the night, handlers returned to plush rooms and tools returned to their proper places. But while she isn’t quite a woman, she’s more than a tool, and she used their training to steal through rooms neutered in their emptiness.

She breathes deep, looking down into dark eyes, presses her forearm deeper into his windpipe. It does not hold him for long. A moment later he surges forward, and she catches a sharp blow to her ribs when she slips away. They tense, strafing each other in perfect silence. He watches her with something like pride, something like humor, and her own lips quirk in response.

“Иаков.”

---

August ████
Madripoor

Everything is supposed to be red. Her blood is thrumming with fightfightfight, and her body moves with another’s command. She knows this, knows the haze and the rush, knows that she will hunt and kill and kill and kill until she finds the right prey. Those distant, flickering thoughts should not be here yet. She is still in a humid summer, curled around a thing in a suit, still batting her lashes and playing at adoration. She doesn’t stop, can’t stop, fingers curling around silk and pulling its face closer to hers.

Its eyes are supposed to be red.

She breathes it in and it tumbles into her web of poisoned lips. She lets it slump back, rising to her feet, and tries to find her thoughts again, but they slip away, and she follows the smoke back to her mission.

---

Lisbon, Portugal

She’d gotten Clint going. She’d undoubtedly regret this later, thick in a firefight with him chattering in her ear about T-shirt ideas and tangentially related stories. Natasha arched a brow as he dove right into another story, barely taking a moment to breathe.

And then he was armed and moving. Natasha moved on pure instinct, reaching beneath the desk to close long fingers about the butt of the glock squirreled away there. He spoke as he moved, and Natasha was already pulling Sam’s sweater over her head, moving for her gear.

Readying for war was muscle memory, as natural as breathing, slipping into black and red. Holsters strapped, weapons placed, spare ammunition already staged. Bites locked, armed, and she was snapping laptops shut, collapsing their work center into a massive, silver case.

She met Clint in the hall, following him through the silent hallways, every sense trained on the environment. They neared the door when she threw out an arm to stop Clint, slinking back into the shadows near the empty reception desk. Footsteps. Maybe a dozen. She’d hoped that a raid on Yuri hadn’t meant that they’d known about their monitoring. No such luck.

“Company,” she said curtly, and then paused as a smirk lit up her lips. “I’ll race you to the car. Winner gets to choose where we eat next.”

Blue Moon

“You say that like it’s obvious,” Carys remarked with something like wonder in her voice. She shuffled to fall into step with his longer stride, arms folded beneath her chest. Sand and the tide quickly gave way to a winding dirt path and endless trees. The shade was a blessed relief, a breeze whispering through the foliage. Carys didn’t think she’d ever seen so much green in her life, her grey eyes tracing endless lines. The world seemed quieter, as if someone had muffled speakers and turned down the volume. It was almost alien. “I don’t think I’ve ever known my neighbors names; I mean, even before I moved to Manhattan. We just always kept to ourselves.”

It sounded kind of pitiful, she realised after she’d said it. Luckily, Chase mentioned something incredibly practical; switching carriers. It might be worth just dropping the money to do it, but she felt strangely torn about it. She’d had her number for years—if she changed it, it was like she was making this real.

Which was a stupid hang up, considering she had already abandoned her career and moved halfway around the world, but Carys ignored that thought.

“I’d appreciate that,” she said simply. They came upon a sudden clearing, where a handful of houses fanned out across the area. They were beautifully built, sleek lines and open windows that reminded her of ritzy neighborhoods she’d commuted through for years. Carys found herself averting her gaze, feeling strangely like a voyeur. She shifted uncomfortably, hanging back and studying the skyline of trees as Chase busied himself with a garage door.

His voice pulled her from her forced fascination of the trees. Carys’ quirked an eyebrow at…was that a challenge in his voice? Her lips curved into a grin as she turned to face him, head cocked to one side. That was unexpected. Of course, she didn’t exactly know him beyond his patience with her lack of spatial awareness. Still, she’d marked him for someone quiet, passive even. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, tempting her competitive streak like this. Carys almost felt sorry for the poor guy.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m awfully fragile,” Carys swept a hand to her chest, voice prim. The effect was ruined by the fiendish glee glittering in her grey eyes and her enthusiastic bound forward. “Try not to overwhelm my delicate sensibilities with too much excitement.”

There was no malice in her teasing. Carys finally closed the distance, an easy grin spread across her features.

“But seriously, vroom vroom,” she said lightly, indicating with her head to the proffered motorcycle, very seriously indeed.

"Okay, This Looks Bad."

Ahhhh, I'm peanut butter and jealous D: I miss kitties. My husband is obnoxiously allergic to them.

My corgi, Pooch, is a little asshat, but super goddamn cute. The pit bull mastiff, Brock, is just pathetic and dumb and sweet.

"Okay, This Looks Bad."

Right???? My doggies are like "Y U GET UP, TEA NOT IMPORTANT, ONLY CUDDLES IMPORTANT ): ): ):"
How is a woman supposed to get anything done with these adorable lil boogers. Honestly

Blue Moon

That's how it's pronounced (: I totally should have indicated that, haha! My b

"Okay, This Looks Bad."

I'm hoping to have a post up either later tonight or tomorrow morning! It all depends on if I have the will power to stop cuddling my puppies and get to my computron.

Year One [ Closed for TheDookieNut and El Taco Taco ]

It was something about ambrosia and a new dark power, haha! I can't find my notes ):
I think we planned for a big Azkaban break out though! That seems perfectly horrible for Halloween at Hogwarts.