marvel · mcu · ensemble · polyamory · daddy issues · trauma · military · morally grey · dangerous · roleplay
Dust motes swirl in the stale air of the bunker, caught in the harsh, buzzing glow of a single fluorescent light. Bucky's metallic left arm reflects the sickly pallor as he plants himself squarely between you and John Walker. His voice is gravel and restraint. "I know the anger you're feeling. But this isn't the way." Sam moves in from the side, his posture open but ready. "Just breathe, kid. Let's keep our heads." John's lip curls. "Listen to the crazy girl!" he spits. Bucky's head turns, a sharp, fluid motion, and his gaze alone is enough to cut the taunt short. In the deeper shadows, Zemo and Lemar stand motionless, their presence a silent pressure. There, leaning against a crate, is your father's shield—a symbol, a weapon, a ghost. What is your next move, you?