Please register with your character's first and last name in all uppercase.
You can also click for the links to our member c-box & in-character c-box.





Our news section is located here; you can find lengthier news updates there while the news updates below are the bare necessities!

You can find the most recent activity check here; activity checks are month-long. You must have at least one post per character submitted before the first of the next month!

You can find the current OTM (of the month) awards here! Be sure to congratulate the members and the admin members of the characters and titles that have been won this month!

Give a warm welcome to both Bri and Pat who have been brought onto Bittersweet Forever's administration team as active website moderators!

All admin members have their own tasks; be sure to check their signatures for information on what their specific tasks are, otherwise you might be redirected.
 
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll

» [IP] How'd I get so faded? [OOT/INVITES]
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Jan 29 2017, 10:55 PM
Quote
HUMAN
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


YOU CAN'T SAVE ME; LORD I'VE TRIED BUT I CAN'T, NO. THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO TO SAVE MY SOUL. GIVE ME ENOUGH TO KEEP ME ALIVE. I TRY TO RUN BUT IT HURTS EVERY TIME.
Budapest didn't have the fondest memories as far as Natasha was concerned. She had executed a great many missions there, but there was only one that she remembered as if it had occurred only yesterday. Not because it had been a thrilling excursion or a new level of extreme that she had had yet to taste...

Budapest was a mistake. An error. A flaw. A regret. A lapse in judgement. A distraction that had cost more than anyone should have ever had to pay.

All Natasha had been required to do was to place a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device underneath the Black SUV, license plate FKU-915. An assassination of a dirty American government official doing illegal business in Budapest. She had tracked the vehicle down as it parked alongside the street. Natasha hadn't taken notice to the fact that it had parked in front of a second black SUV, different license plate. Perhaps had she been paying closer attention to her surroundings, she would have tagged the correct vehicle.

Four dead a few miles away from the very street where Natasha had attached the tilt fuse to the underside of the car. Regular bumping and dipping that came with driving over a terrain caused the tilt fuse to jerk accordingly, resulting in the planned explosion on the wrong vehicle, instantly killing a man in his early thirties, his wife in her late twenties and their two children. A boy, age four - and a girl, age two.

She didn't speak of it, not ever, yet everyone that requested her services knew of what lingered on her file without her having to say a word. So why revisit the one place Natasha could erase from her past? She couldn't answer that. Perhaps because it was the only place that had a memory that tugged on whatever humanity she may or may not have? Maybe because this was the only connection to any identity she might still have left? It was impossible to know for sure.

The hotel Natasha had chosen was hardly worthy of the two stars it claimed, but the seedier, the harder it would be for someone - like Barton - to track her down, or so she hoped. She had compromised everything by leaving New Orleans after her failed attempt to assassinate Clint; the Division hadn't authorized her to flee the country which meant they were officially dealing with a rogue agent, as far as they were concerned.

Natasha had tried to smooth that assumption over by making contact. Ensuring she was protecting her cover by staging that attack at Stark Industries so that Clint wouldn't connect Natalie Rushman's stab wound to the stab wound of the woman that had tried to kill him. She had evaded his attempts to look into this Natalie Rushman by using Tony and his protective paternal instincts to her advantage. She had even fed a pretty white lie to the Starks and to Bruce, claiming she had an ill family member in Russia that was requesting to see her one last time.

It'd be easier that way, to break off those connections with a white lie. To leave that alias behind and hide until she could be positive no one was after her.

The door to her hotel room was silent as it opened; she couldn't hear it but the redhead could feel the colder air from the drafting hallway against the back of her neck. Given she had told the Division exactly where she would be - a leap of faith for her, and a sign of trust as far as they were concerned - she didn't think they'd have sent an agent to try and off her quite yet. Not until they were certain that their Black Widow had truly gone rogue.

That left only one person that could possibly have been keeping a close enough eye on her to know her next move. The man that had stabbed her and left her for dead. The man she had shot and left for dead.

She was healing - much as he still surely was - but she felt a hell of a lot better than she had been when he was pulling his knife out of her side. Her green eyes on the Glock 22 that was nestled between one of her black travel bags and the olive green bedspread that matched the hideous walls. She'd be quick to use it, he surely already knew that... but she doubted he came all this way just to kill her. He was a family man now, after all...

Natasha had read everything there was on Clint Barton when she had taken him on as a mission the week before. She knew that he was the eldest of three; that he took the physical abuse so his younger brother and sister wouldn't experience that pain. His parents died while driving under the influence; his brother killed later on in life. She knew of his time in the military with his younger sister... she even knew of his mild case of dyslexia.

She was always quick on her feet when it came to sarcasm or humour; the small smirk on her face always a telltale sign that she had something in mind, though it wasn't a smirk he'd be able to see with her back still turned to him. "A dyslexic man walks into a bra..."

--------------------

and i saw scars upon her; my broken-hearted lover
BURNS IN MY BLOODSTREAM; TELL ME WHEN IT KICKS IN
PMEmailWebsiteAIM
^
CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Jan 30 2017, 09:44 PM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














Clint lounged easily in the chair that sat in the run down hotel room, feet kicked up on the small table as he stared into the back of the woman he had been waiting for. He couldn’t say that it was every day that he traveled half way across the world to meet a woman. Certainly not one that just recently tried to kill him.

He had been lucky that he had been able to stumble his way home that night without dying. Of course he had always had the uncanny ability to keep holding on even when he should have been dead. And thanks to a last minute surgery on his kitchen table by his best friend, Clint was feeling almost as good as new. Almost. Anyone who ever got stitched could tell you that being fixed up hurts almost as much as the wound that was given to you.

And since he had woken up from being fixed up, he had turn his sights to finding the identity of the woman who had tried to kill him. Easier said than done, considering all he had was a visual but no name attached. Usually that would lead to dead ends and frustration, except that very same day something strange happened.

The exact day that Clint had almost been assassinated, a woman who worked at Stark Industries had been stabbed and mugged in the parking garage. Stabbed in the exact same location that Clint had stabbed the woman trying to kill him. What he found more funny was that the description of the woman who attacked the Personal Assistant, sounded just like who attacked Clint.

Which had left Clint to do some digging. It hadn’t been easy to get the information, Stark industries went into over protective hyper mode since the attack. But Clint had been determined. And that was how he found Natalie Rushman.
Personal assistant to Pepper Pots, Natalie had been working there for over a year now, integrating with everyone else who worked in the company. If you asked anyone at SI they would never give but highest praise for her work ethic. Getting close to the Starks had been easy when you work closely with them, but there was one other person that she was close to.

Bruce Banner was a scientist at SI, best friend to Tony Stark, and Natalie Rushman’s boyfriend. Clint had done some digging , calling in favors from a few of his former, less legal contacts to get some buried information on the good doctor. He knew all about the Doctor’s old work with the government, and then suddenly he disappeared for ten years, coming back and staying only when getting a job at SI.

It made Clint question why someone like her, would do all this for a cover up. Become friends with someone, fall in love with someone, date them all if it was in the name of some higher job. He didn’t think that it was. He thought that this was the real person shining through the cracks that she didn’t even know were there.

He knew many things about Natalie now, more than most people in her life probably did. But one thing he didn’t know was that she had a sense of humor. Yet there he was letting out a surprised laugh at her well played joke. Obviously she had been doing her own research on him, finding out about his dyslexia, she must of dug pretty deep if she was able to uncover that gem.

”I hope he got a decent size drink at least.” he joked back lightly, playing up his own dyslexia as well. He kept his ease clear for when she decided it was time to turn around and look at him. It was obvious the marksman wasn’t there to kill her, or he would of sniped her from a few buildings down. No. Clint was here to do a much more difficult task then kill the assassin before him.

He bobbed his foot a little restlessly as he waiting a few seconds more ” You gonna turn around soon? You and I both know I’m not here to kill you, and how am I supposed to know if my own jokes land if I can’t see your face?”




--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
PMEmail
^
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Feb 5 2017, 09:31 PM
Quote
HUMAN
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


YOU CAN'T SAVE ME; LORD I'VE TRIED BUT I CAN'T, NO. THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO TO SAVE MY SOUL. GIVE ME ENOUGH TO KEEP ME ALIVE. I TRY TO RUN BUT IT HURTS EVERY TIME.
There were few instances in which Natasha truly found herself caught off guard when so much of her time centered around planning every step she took - and that was hardly an exaggeration. She thought she had made a clean escape; she had said her goodbyes to those that had deserved them and had painted over any loose end with a pretty little lie of a sick family member in another country overseas.

It was hard leaving an alias behind - something Natasha had never admitted to anyone before - but this one was perhaps the most difficult to date. Leaving behind the first person she had grown physically intimate with (outside of mission-related necessity) in years. Leaving behind a job (however fake) she had grown accustomed to. Leaving behind the few allies she had made along the way... Grieving a loss meant weakness, however. Natasha made no room and no allowances for weaknesses.

They would forget about her and, eventually, they would move on. As would she.

At least that was what she had been telling herself up until this very moment.

His little quip in reply to her joke had her raising an appreciative eyebrow, one he wouldn't see given she remained still with her back turned to him. They had exchanged a few jokes during her attempt to remove him from the picture altogether; she hated to admit that she saw a lot of herself in the younger marksman... That wouldn't necessarily be enough to keep him alive of course, but that was beside the point.

What was truly curious to Natasha was why this man - who had proven himself more than capable of landing a few blows of his own - hadn't eliminated her from the game now that he had the chance. He obviously had the upper hand; he had caught her off guard and had managed to sneak up on her while her back was turned. She had let her guard down; she had thought herself to be safe, far away from the mess she was running from. She had skipped countries, oceans and continents to put some distance between herself and her failures, after all.

Her eyes narrowed towards the wall she faced as he asked if she was going to turn around soon; he was bold, she'd give him that... He seemed to be sure of himself in a way that had Natasha feeling the slightest bit uneasy; he felt as though he had control of the situation and that wasn't something that Natasha could ever allow.

She was quick - hopefully quicker than Barton was expecting her to move - as she grabbed the gun that had been partially tucked beneath her black travel bag. Her body spinning around as both hands held the weapon at an arm's length away from her body and pointed directly at the man sitting in the chair that was pressed into the corner of her hotel room.

"Your jokes need about as much work as your aim does." It was too easy to rub him the wrong way; he knew he had better aim than most people - even that wasn't giving him enough credit - but Natasha felt she knew she was better which gave her the right to nitpick the other man's claimed talents. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you through the wall behind you and call it a day." Because she could - she would. It'd be exactly what the Division would want her to do and killing Barton right here and right now would definitely put her back in the good graces of her most recent employer...

--------------------

and i saw scars upon her; my broken-hearted lover
BURNS IN MY BLOODSTREAM; TELL ME WHEN IT KICKS IN
PMEmailWebsiteAIM
^
CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Mar 9 2017, 03:40 AM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














There was no logical reason for Clint Barton to be in the hotel room right then and there. By all logic he would of come here with a sniper rifle and fired the kill shot two buildings away. He would of packed up his supplies, gone home to his girlfriend, sister and best friend and tried to sleep at night knowing that he did what he had to, in order to keep them safe.

By all logic the marksman would kill Natasha Romanoff.

But he wasn’t there because of logic. Instead Clint had followed his gut feeling that had him traveling half way around the world to have a conversation with the assassin that had just tried to kill him. His gut had told him that this was not the life that she wanted anymore, that there was more to her then she even recognized. Because he had seen it in himself.

He had once been a man who didn’t care about what was good or bad, he cared about getting what he wanted. If that had meant someone needed to be hurt so he could get it, he would. Steal, hurt , even kill, it hadn’t mattered to him. Till the morning he couldn’t even face his reflection in the mirror because it disgusted him too much to know what he had become. That he had turned into the very men he spent so much time into hunting.

She might not say it to anyone or herself, but Clint was betting that Natasha was the same as he once was. He had done extensive research into her. He knew all about her cover story, about how she got close to the Starks, was dating Doctor Banner, how she was even planning their baby shower. While some might say it was her just being a good spy, Clint knew better. You could be a good spy without getting that close to people.

Clint remained calm and seated as he watched her move in a lightning fast move till she was turned around at him with a gun aimed at his figure. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her, but made no attempt to go for his own weapons that he had hidden on his body. He hadn’t brought them here to use on her, instead to use on anyone who was coming after her that got in his way. Luckily he hadn’t had to use them yet, but it never hurt to be prepared.

“Glad to see that my jokes don’t need any work then. “ His grin was easy going and cocky. There was very few things that Clint bragged about seriously, most of it was all jokes and laughter. But when it came to being a marksman, Clint knew that he was the best. He never missed a shot, on anything. Never missed a paper ball in a basket, never missed in darts, and especially never missed in weaponry. It had made him special forces for the military before he left after the “death” of his sister.

“Trust me trashing a hotel room is not worth it. Do you know how much they charge you for cleaning on rooms? Better to save the fee and bullet for someone you actually want to shoot in the first place. “ If Natasha had wanted to shoot him , she would have the moment that she grabbed the gun, ending him before the conversation started. Instead she spoke back…which gave Clint hope that this was the right choice after all.

Clint moved positions , till he was more at ease on the chair, making sure that both of his hands were still in eye sight of her the whole time that he shifted. ” I’m here because I want you to come back to New Orleans with me.” He gave her another grin ”I want you to join our side. And I think you want to , too.”



--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
PMEmail
^
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Jun 2 2017, 11:27 PM
Quote
HUMAN
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


YOU CAN'T SAVE ME; LORD I'VE TRIED BUT I CAN'T, NO. THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO TO SAVE MY SOUL. GIVE ME ENOUGH TO KEEP ME ALIVE. I TRY TO RUN BUT IT HURTS EVERY TIME.
Natasha didn't necessarily view death the same way others did. It had been embedded in her brain that death was a meaningless end to a meaningless journey; nobody deserved the life that they were gifted unless they did great things. Natasha was someone who had been trained to do great things which negated any guilt she should have been feeling any time she pulled the trigger (metaphorically or otherwise) and ended someone's life.

There was a lingering fear that if she ever decided to abandon all she knew and all she had been trained to know - if she ever tapped into that tiny spark of humanity that she still had left - the waves of guilt would drown her and extinguish any spark she had left. Perhaps that was why she was always moving; settling down somewhere for too long was too great a risk. Natasha had always known her limits and had always known what risks were too great for even someone like her. She didn't have a death wish, after all...

Barton was a failed mission; he had seen just how damn close he had come to death caused by her hands and yet he braved the fine lines that kept her concealed from him and anyone else she had crossed in such ways. She was a ghost; someone who wasn't meant to be seen, heard... only felt. To follow her was to sign your own death certificate simply because Natasha couldn't risk someone learning more about her than she knew about herself. She couldn't risk covers and aliases being blown when she had already risked far too much.

The redhead had half-expected Clint to stand to his feet and pull out any weapon he may have had hidden on his body - much as Natasha had done - but he remained seated. One eyebrow arched in what seemed to be amusement as she pointed her gun at the center of his forehead. She didn't shoot, however; her finger hovered over the trigger as her eyes stayed locked on his. She had absolutely no idea what game he was trying to play, but she knew she'd find her way to the bottom of it one way or another.

Natasha had always been a recluse; she had been trained to never have to rely on anyone but herself. Her mind, her instincts, her body... She required nothing more and nothing less. That wasn't to say that there weren't times when Natasha had relied on a partner or a colleague - there most certainly had been, more so with 'employers' like the Division - but at the end of the day, Natasha worked alone and looked out only for herself.

The redhead kept her green eyes on the male before her, more so as he began to change positions so that he was more at ease in the chair he continued to occupy. Natasha was quite aware of the fact that he was intentionally keeping his hands where she could see them: off and away from any weapon he was likely carrying on his body.

"I’m here because I want you to come back to New Orleans with me."

If Natasha hadn't been half-convinced she was going to need to battle her way out of this situation, she might have had more of a sense of humour. She might have made a joke or outright laughed when he informed her that he wanted her to join him on his journey back to new Orleans so that she could join his side of the fight against the Division.

"You realize this is the worst attempt at trapping me I've ever seen, right? Do you really think I'm going to fall for this, skip back to New Orleans hand-in-hand with you and be naive enough to not expect you, Steve and Tony to stab me in the back the first chance you all get?"

She'd deserve it; they deserved to be able to take that cheap shot at her after all she had done to them and all of the many things she had participated in. Torturing Steve's fiancé, spying on Tony and his wife, almost killing Clint...

"If you want to take me out, this is your chance to at least try. If not, I'll let you walk out of here with all of your limbs still attached to your body."

--------------------

and i saw scars upon her; my broken-hearted lover
BURNS IN MY BLOODSTREAM; TELL ME WHEN IT KICKS IN
PMEmailWebsiteAIM
^
CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Jun 7 2017, 11:50 PM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














Clint let out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes as Natasha decided not believe him when he said that he was there to bring her back. He just kept starring at her and let her keep talking and trying to figure him out. Any other person , Clint would of played along for a joke before just taking them down and continuing on with the mission that he set out for. But Natasha wasn't in the right mindset to be played around with.

He could understand why she was wary of him. He did just stab her and try and kill her a week ago. Granted he did it cause if he let her walk away from their fight she was going to come after everyone he loved. But that was just another reason for her to not trust him. Truth be told, Clint really didn't hold too much of a grudge against her (though he would use the shooting him thing to get advantage one day), but he would of done the same as her if ordered by the people who controlled his life.

The real question was why he was taking the risk that he was coming there today. Why did he even bother coming across the world to talk to her, when he could of just let her own superiors hunt her down and kill her. He wouldn't have to worry about her coming after Kamila or Steve that way... wouldn't have to watch where he turned for the next few years. She'd be gone and he could move on.

In the past he would of done just that. And maybe even now, if it was anyone else other than Natasha that had fought against him he might still of done that. But when he went against her he had seen something in her, that something had kept him awake at night making him think. So instead of just letting someone kill her off, he had come here to try and talk her into changing sides.

"Why the hell would I go through all this trouble just to trap you? You and I both know that I'm good enough to snip you from three blocks away and no one would even notice till room service came. I know my skills are on record from my military days in special forces, And that wasn't even my best work." He gave her a bland look from across the room "I had the upperhand this time, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Clint turned that bland look into a smile once more "Now when you come back with me, I can't say that Tony won't go for you...but Steve and I are very close, the guy lives with me after all, and I know he wont kill you. Be angry...maybe. But since he understands better then anyone our lives are not always in our own control. "

The marksman leaned forward till his arms were resting on his knees looking Natasha directly in the eyes as he continued to talk. "I'm going to be real here with you Natasha, I'm not the best person for this. I can't make speeches that can inspire armies , or show that the world can be just and right if we work real hard at it." He shrugged his shoulders " I'm not really that guy...and I don't really believe the latter. I think no matter how hard we try the world is a fucked up place, and always will be a fucked up place."

He had learned that long ago hadn't he? When his abusive parents beat him every night. Or when the parents who had adopted him and siblings, taught him everything they knew, used him to be their personal theif and then killed his brother and left him for dead. Or how they were still out there while Clint waited for the day he could end them like they ended his brother. Or how his sister was alive and being tortured while the military he had worked to had lied to him and told him that she was dead.

" But I do believe that there are some people in this world are needed. Not just people like Steve, or Tony, who even on their bad days didn't really know they were doing bad, who are good guys." Clint turned his gaze out the window as he continued " The world needs us. You and me. Those who have been inside those hell holes that teach us to be the baddest of the bad. That control us no matter how hard we wish we were free. The world needs the people who have been on the wrong side, and know just how bad they could be. Us, who know how to stop them. Who want to stop them. "

In a very real moment Clint was very serious as he looked at Natasha once more. His fingers tapping restlessly on his knees as the speech went on "I think you got in to deep on this mission. You got close to people. Made friends. You fell in love. " the last one was said with more emphasis on the words " And I don't think you want to leave that. I don't think you want to leave Dr. Banner, who sitting back there waiting for you to come home. Who would tell you to be brave and do the right thing here...and come back with me. Help put an end to the monsters that took your life. Who stole your freedom. Become the person you want to be, not who they want you to become."



--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
PMEmail
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll