capablekitten-blog

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ooc;

Because I have a serious problem when it comes to making new blogs, have a peek at my latest: Vera Lynn Black. 

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"Mmm," she purrs, shaking her head to make her goggles fly off and smack against the floor. "Maybe it does mean that. However, maybe it also means that I shouldn't be treated like a baby, because I know how to take care of myself," she sneers, her nose scrunching up into visible displeasure as Lightening takes an antiseptic gauze pad to her deep slash-mark wounds. The sting is enough to make her wince, though she attempts to keep her reaction minimal. "... thank you, though."

"Just because you’ve been through worse and lived doesn’t mean I should let these go ignored.  Now hold still, this may sting."  She held a hand on Selina’s side to brace her as she sprayed the deep gash with the antiseptic and then quickly took her sterile gauze pad that she also carried in her leg bag to wipe the excess blood away.  "It will begin to scab in less than a minute."  She said.  "No need for a bandage."

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oftheroyalnavy

"Well. You're cute... And that Longines' watch you're wearing just screams 'class.' What's that, a Lindbergh? People say Rolex is the top game in time-telling wrist straps, but y'know... I've got to disagree. What'd that run you? Eight thousand? It'd be a real shame if something were to happen to it."

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Selina frowns when Lightening's reaction is to display sympathy and concern. Her scars have become badges of honour for herself over time, mere curiosities to be occasionally displayed with a sense of pride. Not to be treated with medicine.

"Ahh," she winces, as the tightly bound leather moves away from her wound. In the process, she hooks a clawed finger under her amber-tinted goggles, and lifts them up onto her forehead to expose her eyes. "You know. I'm all for playing doctor, but this is not exactly what I had in mind..."

Still. It's hard not to be flattered by the concern, and it does force her to stand still for a moment, at the taller woman's request. "Really. I'm fine. I've had so much worse, it's not even funny."

”-"  A sigh is emitted from peach lips as Lightning hears Selina, frowning in disapproval.    While she knows the woman has sustained numerous wounds of varying degrees of injury, the pinkette is determined not to let her injuries go untreated under her watch.

For the moment, she disregards Selina’s advances and pushing aside her own to slip a few fingers under the leather to open the gap between the clothing wider so that she may examine the wound.

"It’s still bleeding."  She murmured, pink bangs swaying as she gently shook her head.  "I suppose-"  She reached down into her leg pouch to retrieve an antiseptic+coagulant spray that she carried with her while on patrol.  "-you’re into getting infections.  Hold still."

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Selina scoffs as the tough pink-haired soldier smacks against the back of the couch, her head shaking from side to side in apparent disapproval while she does so. Her lips curl into a coy smirk, as both palms plant themselves firmly at either side of Lightning, pinning her in place.

"Oh, hun," as she lifts her goggles up with one finger, forcing them onto her forehead to expose her bright emerald-green eyes. As she speaks, she slowly lifts the leather shift about her waist, exposing some recent, deep, and thick scars. "I always get into trouble... Caught a few scars tonight, in fact. Nothing excessive, but. Hey. Wanna see?"

The woman’s sudden thrust of an arm to send the soldier back onto the plush cushions emitted a soft ‘poomph’ from the furniture and a light grunt from her lips.  She looked up at Selina, a coy smirk creeping into her features, however muted with a certain cool.

"…I think I can manage that."  She lifted her arms, sliding gloved hands up the thief’s hips, coming to rest upon either side of her slim waist.  A snag- a tear- in her outfit caught her attention, and she tilted her head to get a better look, leaning forward.  "Run into trouble tonight, I see."  

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"Mmhm. Meow."

capablekitten liked your post: Diamonds.

Meow.

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powerfulcleavage:

"Ugh."

"Mistake number one, blondie. 'Letting it bother you that much.' Commit that whole sentence to memory... And every time it enters into your brainmeats, just disregard it. Entirely."

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"The hell you will," she snaps playfully, sliding her claws up the taller woman's chest before pushing her backwards, sending her into a free-fall onto the couch.

"I'll take the wheel, sure. But I need you to work the brake and gas, at least... After all, I think we've both earned something tonight."

"Sorry to disappoint.  There weren’t any others I could think to compare you to."

"I never said that nothing.." She brings up her hand, index, middle, and thumb gingerly resting beneath her chin to tilt the feline’s face up to hers.  "-Came to mind.  But yes.  I will let you do the work."

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"Well, to start with. You could admit that I'm far more fun than Santa Claus. I'm actually offended by the let-down-sounding comparison, don't ya know."

"Second," as she taps a finger against her chin, looking mock-pensive for a moment. "Nothing comes to mind? Really? Oh, you make me do all the work... And I'm regrettably okay with that."

"Convincing, huh?"

She approaches the smaller woman, eyes narrowing as she gazed down into Selina’s goggles, able to make out her sly expression through her tinted lenses. “What kind of convincing…?"

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"Ooooh, 'money'? That your final guess? I dunno... Gotta defer to the judges on that one. Will we accept 'money'?"

"We will? ... Damn. I mean. Good! Let's just say it's things that can be exchanged for money. Anyway. You expect a reward for a technicality? Not sure I owe you. I might need some convincing."

"… Judging by that bag slung over your shoulder and the fact that you are not Santa Claus, I’d say money.  Just a hunch."

”.. And what do I get in return?"

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"Aww, look at you! Trying to be all coy. S'almost as if you forgot that's my department. C'mon then, two guesses. Won't kill ya."

"Selina, I don’t do guessing games."

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onlydestroys

"Hey, hey... Guess what the cat dragged in tonight! Two guesses max, but I have a feeling you'll get it in one."

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Selina's lips scrunch downward into a barely noticeable display of displeasure when she feels Bucky's arm curl around her waist for this impossibly awkward little display. She coughs to cover it up, trying to remember that she's playing the part of the (badly dressed) housewife, and sparing a moment to unruffle her dress with both hands.

"Yes, yes. Like my husband," and she clearly injects a note or two of venom into that last word, though she grins to counteract it, "I also am in a bit of a hurry. So, if you could just process our information as fast your little fingers will allow, we'll be on our way, and let you get back to watching..."

Selina pauses a moment, looking towards the monitor behind the service desk. It seems to be set to The Food Network, which at the moment is airing some competitive cooking show featuring a loud, blonde, British man screaming at the contestants. It's hard for her not to snort when she takes in the sight of it.

"... cultural abasement as soon as you finish." When the keys are handed over, she nods alongside Bucky, walking seemlessly down the corridor with him, in a practiced side-by-side fashion. Her act is quite convincing; none would dare suspect she was anything more than the snooty, over-privileged wife of a an equally snooty, over-privileged man. After they step into the elevator that leads to their floor, she slides her arm away from his waist, and exhales a sigh of relief while leaning up against the wall of the ascending elevator.

"That went well. Got a bit of acting experience under your belt, Buck?"

Some Security Issues. II Selina and Bucky

Natasha teased him mercilessly about his proclivity for casual dress— if i could even be called that.  Bucky’s usual “uniform” consisted of a pair of jeans that had admittedly seen better days alongside a simple t-shirt, worn boots that sported a few scuffs and his trademark leather jacket.  Despite the years in which he’d worn the spandex of first his sidekick costume and then in his own rendition of the Captain America suit, Bucky vastly preferred comfort over style.  

Of course, he could play a part as well as any.  The Winter Soldier did not earn his reputation for stealth based on poor acting skills.  His throat felt constricted by the tie he’d knotted around his neck and the sport jacket pulled a little across his shoulders, but Bucky plastered a smile that matched his companion’s across his face.  Spine straight and walk changed from slouched shuffle to confident swagger, he stepped up to the desk.  

He cleared his throat, looping an arm around Selina (he could almost feel her cringing at the motion) and leaned an elbow on the immaculately polished counter top.  

“Why, yes, actually,” Bucky replied with an affected bravado.  ”My wife and I are checking into our suite.  We have some business to attend to in the city, so if you wouldn’t mind, we really do need to be on our way.”  The stylized upper crust speech felt thick on his tongue, but he powered through nonetheless.  

The apathetic concierge did not display any suspicions, not that she was paying enough attention that she should, and gave him a blank look before rolling her eyes toward the computer screen.  Acrylics clacking away at the keyboard, Bucky took a moment to assess the hotel lobby.  He quickly detected three security cameras nestled away in the corners of the room and judged that the two guards stationed by the door were little threat.  

Plastic smile still in place, he handed over the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued credit card and took their room key.  ”Let’s be on our way, my darling,” he crowed to Selina, guiding her away from the desk with a hand on the small of her back. 

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