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running to the past
30 May 2017 20:51Who we are is mutable--it can change in a second; who we were...that can never be undone.
She doesn't remember her past. Parts of it, a glimpse here and there, what they've put in, mostly. The memories of him are gone, forced out and replaced with girls twirling in tutus across the large floor, laughter at who got dizzy by the end of it, and gun shots. There was so much blood. She doesn't remember she caused it. 28 ballerinas at the Bolshoi--27 of them dead at her feet. Terrorists, she'd survived by hiding inside the piano--or so that's what she was made to believe. The truth of the matter, is that all of them died by her hand. Like Captain America, she'd been given her own version of the super soldier serum, but then...so had they. But none of them had stood a chance. She'd already been weaponized, but didn't know it then--the death of her 'sisters', the only family she had--that's what made her agree to become the Black Widow. She doesn't know about the other 'projects' that had come before her--that one of those projects had turned her into such a deadly weapon that even outgunned and outnumbered, men still thought twice before taking the first swing.
The mission that she's on now doesn't look all that different on the surface. Someone who is a liability, someone who needs to not exist anymore. She doesn't know the liability is to her--because he is part of the past that she doesn't remember. He was supposed to be the super soldier, but she'd come out better, stronger--he'd had to be modified, the metal arm that had started to become infected once he'd refused to take the anti-rejection serum. The problem with it, of course, is that it it made him much more compliant, taken his free-will. Now he was freely willing to suffer out in the world, but Natasha is being dispatched to take care of that. The two of them have been kept apart at all costs. Her handlers didn't want him triggering any memories in her, but he was still useful...or had been.
Copper red hair is pulled back into a tight braid--this is not a mission for seduction, it's a mission to kill, and she's tracked him to this warehouse in Romania. She moves silently among boxes and shadows, looking for signs that someone has been living here, looking for traps, looking for the Winter Soldier.
She doesn't remember her past. Parts of it, a glimpse here and there, what they've put in, mostly. The memories of him are gone, forced out and replaced with girls twirling in tutus across the large floor, laughter at who got dizzy by the end of it, and gun shots. There was so much blood. She doesn't remember she caused it. 28 ballerinas at the Bolshoi--27 of them dead at her feet. Terrorists, she'd survived by hiding inside the piano--or so that's what she was made to believe. The truth of the matter, is that all of them died by her hand. Like Captain America, she'd been given her own version of the super soldier serum, but then...so had they. But none of them had stood a chance. She'd already been weaponized, but didn't know it then--the death of her 'sisters', the only family she had--that's what made her agree to become the Black Widow. She doesn't know about the other 'projects' that had come before her--that one of those projects had turned her into such a deadly weapon that even outgunned and outnumbered, men still thought twice before taking the first swing.
The mission that she's on now doesn't look all that different on the surface. Someone who is a liability, someone who needs to not exist anymore. She doesn't know the liability is to her--because he is part of the past that she doesn't remember. He was supposed to be the super soldier, but she'd come out better, stronger--he'd had to be modified, the metal arm that had started to become infected once he'd refused to take the anti-rejection serum. The problem with it, of course, is that it it made him much more compliant, taken his free-will. Now he was freely willing to suffer out in the world, but Natasha is being dispatched to take care of that. The two of them have been kept apart at all costs. Her handlers didn't want him triggering any memories in her, but he was still useful...or had been.
Copper red hair is pulled back into a tight braid--this is not a mission for seduction, it's a mission to kill, and she's tracked him to this warehouse in Romania. She moves silently among boxes and shadows, looking for signs that someone has been living here, looking for traps, looking for the Winter Soldier.
