#✭ ㅤ marvel ㅤ ››› ㅤ keep believing in heroes ㅤ .

[valiantsword]

FROM: @bokketo RE: ❛  i don’t usually just walk up to strangers but my friends set me up to it.  ❜ ( maya ) STATUS: accepting

new york was still taking some getting used to. then again, every time he was in the states all arthur felt like he did was readjust himself to the noise, tall buildings, and copius amount of vehicles. this was something of home now, though. sure quinjets could take him to and from cornwall so he could go to his house but that was entirely too flashy for his liking. so, studio in one of the busiest places in the world it was.

he was sitting about a block from the tower, right in front of one of the little coffee shops. even if he wasn't so close to the gaudy thing he'd probably be able to see it anywhere in the damn state. so, he stayed close just in case a call came in. or, in case he wanted to seek refuse behind the giant glass walls.

a cappuccino sits next to small plate with a half-eaten croissant. in front of both of those is a hard cover copy of something nat shoved in his hands. better than staying in his apartment and blasting music. well, maybe not. only time would tell.

and time produced unexpected yet beautiful company. logic reminded him it could be some kind of rouse. the world was more dangerous now. politics and mind games seemed to seep into every corner of his life. much like rogers, arthur didn't have the patience for it. so, he tended to only play when there was absolutely no other choice.

" well then, " a grin tugs one corner of his lips. the book, pastry, and coffee are all moved to give her half the table should she want to use it. " we should really sell it to them, shouldn't we? " the blonde extends a hand. " i'm arthur. "

[technologica]

tag drop !

[valiantsword]

FROM: @sevenbulletsavior RE:  ' do you come here often? ' STATUS: accepting

     not if i can help it, he wanted to say out loud.  instead, arthur swirled his small glass of whiskey and brought it to his lips.  the room-temperature liquid burns as it goes down.  memories bubble right up along with it.  in particular, the last time he was in new york.  or, was it the time before last?  arthur tilted his head at that.  time was a blur most days.  one would think with all the craziness happening as of late it would be easier to pinpoint events.  

     not really

  “ just passing through, “ the immortal says softly after the glass clinks back down on the flat surface.

     he’d just gotten off a ferry at the  red hook terminal over in brooklyn.  a visit to a very, very old safehouse in hell’s kitchen provided a nice change of clothes, some cash, and a place to nap.  beyond that?  arthur wasn’t honestly sure.  he was waiting for word from andy on the next job.  until then, he needed a little space to breathe on his own.  it hadn’t been abnormal for him over the years to wander off.  centuries with the same people could grate on an old man’s nerves.  besides, the lovebirds brought back too many memories.

a backpack sits on the floor, next to his left foot. easier to grab and run if it came down to it. the way his elbows rest on the edge are meant to speak to a more relaxed nature. when was the last time he had a little time to do such a thing? arthur felt like it was one battle after another; always running from place to place to keep from being seen or noticed. a crowded place like new york was the last place he should be. too many eyes. too many cameras. it was getting harder and harder to avoid those, though.

arthur finally looked up. really looked up at the voice directed at him. piercing eyes too him back to guinevere so fast it made his head spin. " i, uh, " he attempts a grin to counteract how quickly he'd been thrown off-center. " don't think i'll ever get used to all the tall buildings here now. how do people live with all the noise? "

[valiantsword]

@magikldreams gets a starter !

all his years seemed quiet and boring compared to what's been going on with the world as of late. made him want to go back to his hidden little mansion in tintagel and wait for all the shit to be over. then again, if fury every showed up unannounced head would roll. last thing arthur needed was to be told that all his efforts to stay under the radar were futile and shield had some novel about his life tucked away somewhere.

the really really tired part of him sometimes muses about how life would be different had be followed stark to the airport. then again, he's always been on the run in one form or another. why did this feel different?

her.

arthur readjusts the sunglasses on his face and scratches his palm. the psychic sword is just begging to be let out. they don't need that kind of attention on them, though. especially not after he used it to scare the wig off a corporate bully several days prior.

" here, " arthur pushes a tray of food when nat comes into view. a fry gets picked off the top before he lets go and leans back into the shade. " where's rogers? "

[valiantsword]

@crimsonscorpii​ con’t from ( x )

          for so long there’d been glimpses.  there’d been hope.  a tickle at the back of his neck whenever he encountered this ghost because the way they ended up fighting was a little too reminiscent of something he’d experienced back in the forties.  but, then, that was impossible.  wasn’t it?  arthur had lost everyone back then except for one particular fury that popped up every now and then.  the former king had seen his heart fall off a train.  he’d seen hope fall right out of the sky and plunge down into the ice.  over the decades the commandoes succumbed to time one by one.

         he thought it was hope shining through those encounters.  hope that, just maybe, one of his ghosts were coming back to haunt him and he didn’t have to feel quite so alone anymore.  that would be impossible, though.  not very many people had the power to come back from the dead.  nor would arthur wish it on other people because it really fucking hurt.

          that first time he sees the ghost with only part of it’s mask is the first time arthur feels so wrong.  it made him a madman on a mission.  for years all he lived and breathed was hunting down information on where bucky had been all this time.  maybe the way he’d gone about trying to hide bucky from hydra wasn’t the smartest.  there’d been this sliver of an opportunity the warrior couldn’t let pass, though.  hope.  he saw bucky in those blue eyes. emotion.  not the killing machine he’d run into so many times before.  as they fought and wrestled along the ground arthur thought just maybe...

          they were in an abandoned apartment building.  most of it had been rummaged through.  too many holes in the walls and not enough comfortable furniture but, by in large, still better than a lot of safe houses he’d visited over the years.  all there’d been left to do was wait.  wait to see who woke up in that bed and how hard it would be to dive in to rescue bucky.  fortunately, arthur happened to have an abundance of time.

          he has no idea how long he sat by the windowsill.  moonlight spilled across his legs and moved minute by minute.  several times, arthur lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke out into the night, praying to himself that the ash wouldn’t wake up the sleeping form.  the downside to all that waiting, however, was all the guilt that came with it.  memories of all those near misses when he could’ve brought bucky home a lot sooner had arthur only known who’d been behind the mask.  thoughts of searching the show for bucky’s body. thoughts of trying to interogate zola on what they’d done to the 107th once he’d been captured by the allies and sent to shield.

          by the time the bed creaks the moon had moved a good few inches and the whiskey bottle is all but empty.  energy sizzles in his left hand as instinct have his psychic sword slowly rising to the surface.  he’d been so tense that by the time there’s a warm weight in his lap an ache formed at the base of his skull, like someone was trying to twist his head right off.  it feels like yesterday he’d been holding bucky in the snow, swaying next to the river, and planning date nights in paris.  that same warm breath tickling the side of his neck.

           arthur can’t honestly remember the last time he cried but, he did then.  choked emotion huffs out of his lungs.  arms finally give in to the moment and wrap themselves around the body in his lap.  the tips of his fingers dig in to thick material before one hand slides to cradle the back of bucky’s head.  “ i promised i’d find you.  i promised i’d always... “  another choke cut short by a clenched jaw.  despite the words from all those years ago arthur had essentially failed in that promise, hadn’t he?  so many missed opportunities over the past several decades and bucky was paying the price.

           “ it’s me, love, “ a kiss is gently pressed to one of bucky’s temples once arthur is able to shove all the emotions back down.  “ i told you i’d find you.  took a lot longer than i was hoping, though. “  much, much longer.

           it’s that thought that makes it hard to loosen his grip.  at the same time, arthur knows he has to.  “ do you need anything?  are you hungry? “ 

[valiantsword]

@crimsonscorpii​ gets a plotted starter !

          war was nothing new.  in fact, arthur had seen enough war to know that it didn’t ever really change.  there’d been several ( very odd ) points in history when people tried to be ‘ more civilized ‘ about it but, in the end, it was all the same.  death, sadness, and a lot of promises that were never going to be kept.  he saw his father in all of it.  the hungry stepping over the weak for the sake of invisible measures of power.  most material objects wins, right?

          in fact, if it hadn’t been for an impassioned speech by another very hard to kill warrior named nicky, arthur wouldn’t have touched this fight with a ten foot pole.

           although, as he gazed across the pub at a pair of piercing eyes and even sharper smile, arthur found himself glad he did.  stumbling across the commandoes had been one of the best things to happen to him in, well, as long as he could remember.  he more of less kept to himself for a number of reasons. arthur felt like an outsider of society, always standing on the fringe and never allowing himself to be part of it despite how much he still interacted with it’s inhabitants.

           with the commandoes he felt alive again.  watching james barnes interact with the world served as a healthy reminder to all that was good and worth enjoying.  dugan was infectious laugh incarnate.  steve?  honestly, steve’s demeanor hit a little close to home but even that was a welcome sensation.  with these men at his side arthur remembered what it was like to live and he had no idea how to thank any of them for it.

          a thud pulls his attention back and he nods his head in thanks for the round of drinks put in front of him.  with everything in hand, the mutant weaves his way through the crowd.  several near misses means he’s concentrating just a little too hard by the time he makes it back to the table but at least nothing spilled.  “ my contribution to a respectable day’s work, “ he grins.  the wink in bucky’s direction is automatic.  maybe a little too much, so.  just as quickly he looks back down as if searching for a reason to stare at the bottom of his glass.

          an friendly elbow to his hip has arthur rounding the table, easily slipping into the empty space next to barnes.  “ days like this remind me what it was like to have a family. “

[valiantsword]

FROM: @crimsonscorpii​ ( steve ) RE:  send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on new years eve. STATUS: accepting

          watching a plane take off felt a lot like losing someone off the side of a train.  like everything slipped right through his fingers.  one was more difficult than the other, though, considering steve rogers was a force to be reckoned with.  once that beautiful brain got stuck on something very little could lodge it loose.  at least, as far as arthur had been able to pick up, anyway.

          arthur had stuck around after the war, but only for the howlies.  whenever peggy asked a favor for shield he’d declined until a familiar face knocked on his door.  whenever one howard start asked?  only earned a clenched jaw and, sometimes, a slammed door.  it was the longest span of time he’d ever spent in america.  honestly, by the time arthur slipped back into the shadows he missed europe something fierce.

          the former king had never, ever considered the possibility of seeing steve again.  he’d mourned that man far longer than he head the heart to admit.  such was the risk of giving his heart away yet again.  he’d planned on steering clear of emotional entanglement for at least another century when, one morning, the newspaper ripped his heart from his chest.  yet, even that seemed a lifetime ago.  as the stood atop the paramount building in times square, looking at the blanket of bodies down on the street, arthur found that he could only smile.  no image had ever struck him with such change.  this was most definitely not new york in the forties.

        down the street the ball started to drop, full of sparkle and hope.  turning on his heel, arthur tilted his head to the side.  a smirk started to grow at one corner of his lips.  it’s hard to ignore the way all the glittering lights reflects from steve’s eyes.  between just the two of them it was easy to pretend they were back at simpler times.  it was easy to pretend aliens hadn’t tried to turn the entire city to rubble.  easy to pretend he didn’t ever fight beside something large, green, and angry.  and even easier to pretend nimue’s old stories about the world tree weren’t really true.

          “ i love you, “ arthur says simply.  and, suddenly, he can’t actually remember if he’d ever said it before.  or if he’s said at any point since the late seventeen hundreds.  before he can overthink it, toes push him forward.  one hand slides up steve’s cheek in order to anchor his odd balance.  when lips touch it’s uncharacteristically hesitant but still not a bad way to ring in the new year.

[valiantsword]

FROM: @crimsonscorpii​ ( bucky ) RE:  send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on new years eve. STATUS: accepting

          in a more prominent tower across town was the party he’d been attending the past few years.  bright lights.  revelry.  people laughing and shouting.  sometimes he was there with the avengers.  sometimes not.  one year he stood in a shadowed corner with fury while maria called them wallflowers.

         this year was different for a number of reasons.  arthur felt his blessings more numerous.  in fact, he hadn’t been this happy since the forties or even the eighties.  their spread was meager in comparison to what he’d experienced previously but given the circumstances it was also more preferable.

          dim lights allowed the moonlight to pool in.  earlier in the evening he did the unthinkable.

                                   arthur cooked dinner.

          simple yet messy, at least for someone as inexperienced in the art as he was.  in all the centuries arthur had lived one would assume he’d learn such a simple survival technique at one point.  but, there’d never really been a need.  luckily, between the internet and an abundance of new friends arhur had access to a font of information.

           dessert, on the other hand, came from a nearby bakery.

           now, they lay tangled on the couch.  limbs and blankets and, somewhere, a few pillows.  the television’s volume was loud enough to be heard but low enough that it was barely more than a murmur.  arthur was too busy trying to read bucky’s mind and whether or not everything was alright.

            fingers lift, gently lifting away several strands of hair from bucky’s forehead.  “ happy new year, love. “  those fingers slide farther back, to the base of the other’s skull.  desperation has a light grip tightening but arthur does what he can to be mindful on exactly how hard he’s holding.  it’s difficult, though.  he’d been searching for this man for decades.  even before that arthur had felt a pull of gravity towards a story that should not have caused a blip on his radar.  lips crash together in the only flow of emotion arthur’s ever really been good at.  “ any preferences on how we spend it? “

[valiantsword]

FROM: @thunderbringer​ RE:  send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on new years eve. STATUS: accepting

           new year.  new chances.  at least, that’s what modern society started advertising it as and, to a degree, arthur supposes it isn’t much different from the winter solstice he’d looked forward to all those moons ago.  back then, it was more harvest related.  well, not only the harvest but such subjects were always a hot debate with his father.

          one thing uther wouldn’t be able to deny, however, was how beautiful new york looked on this particular new year’s eve.

           there’s a glowing aura around thor that’s almost tangible.  whether it’s the innate electricity, the neon glow of the surrounding buildings, or something else buried within the asgardian remains a mystery.  no point in asking.  arthur simply prefers to enjoy it.  a small smile curls at the corner of his lips.  it was always hard to deny how much safer he felt whenever he was in the other’s presence.  safer.  more inspired.  hell, the years didn’t feel quite so heavy. 

         standing there, looking out the window at all the people trying to crowd the streets, arthur suddenly wonders if there’s such an occasion on asgard.  did they have holidays?  what did they celebrate? 

          “ they must miss you when you’re gone, “ the smile grows a fraction but only because arthur certainly did whenever thor was off-world.  too many thoughts on what could go wrong.  too many thoughts on not being able to help in those very same situations.  “ but i’m glad you’re here. “  arthur lifts up onto his toes, just enough to close the distance.  his kiss is uncharacteristically gentle but, then, he’s feeling some kind of way on this new year’s eve.  it’s how he’s feeling; uncharacteristically gentle.  arthur’s honestly surprised he remembers how.  “ here’s to another year. “

[valiantsword]

FROM: @beaniesandmachetes​ RE:  ​❝ you didn’t hear anything at all? ❞ STATUS: accepting

          the whole concept of working with other people was still new to arthur.  he’d spent a long, long time trying to change things on his own.  or with a small group of people he’d discovered along the way.  people who shared certain abilities to survive.  when he’d been approached by one nick fury back in the eighties the agreement had been for arthur to be on his own.  no attachments.  no team.  

                      no worries.

          yet, here he was.  whether or not he was actually part of the team remained to be seen since he’d sooner take care of something on his own if it meant no one else got hurt.  “ no, “ he says simply.  bluish light emanates from his palm before a sword ( more or less ) manifests.  “ what did you hear?  what did it sound like? “