23 October 2012 @ 08:45 pm
three ☢ it's that time again  
[ Interior: a really badly lit slum of a house somewhere that Martha Stewart isn't really a priority. There's the blur of dark hair across the feed and the patter of tiny feet as a young girl races across the room and climbs out a back window. Cue one (1) gangly looking guy with a sassy murse who's slowly realizing he has been played like a fiddle. He sighs as he leans against a support beam, shaking his head. ]

Should have gotten the money up front, Banner.

And cut for length oops. )
26 September 2012 @ 09:05 pm
002 » video  
[ the transmission opens with the view of a dark, abandoned factory. at first, the only thing visible is a mirror, reflecting a woman tied to a chair, surrounded by three men. there's the sound of a train whistling as it goes by in the distance, and then the sound of the woman getting hit across the face. ]

This is not how I wanted this evening to go.

I know how you wanted this evening to go. Believe me, this is better.

[ the screen goes black for a few moments, as if the transmission's ended, then comes back to life with the ring of a telephone, though this time, there's only audio. ]

We need you to come in.

Are you kidding? I'm working.

This takes precedence.

[ when the woman speaks again, the transmission shifts back to video. ] )

[ the video cuts back to the mirror, showing glimpses of the fight as natasha finishes the men off and picks the phone back up. the audio is muffled, only a few words audible as she starts to leave the factory, but the party on the other end tells her something that makes her stop in her tracks. ]

...Bozhe moy.

[ the feed cuts, and the line goes dead. ]

[ OOC | finally getting this up, sorry about the wait! the green text is the thugs, the blue is coulson (used with permission) and the red is natasha. italics are translated from russian, and the video is cut so as not to take up your layout space. ♥ ]
03 June 2012 @ 02:57 pm
001 » AUDIO  
[ the sound of typing is heard briefly before a voice is heard, albeit a bit softly, due to the owner muttering under her breath. ]

That's not right. How did it come back to this screen, is this some kind of payback from Stark?

[ some more typing, and a then huff of frustration. ]

You've got to be kidding me.

[ after a few moments, the voice becomes a bit louder to address whatever audience may be on the other end of the device. ]

All right, evidently whatever this is isn't going away anytime soon, so I'll humor you. Do I have to play some kind of game to get out of this window? Answer a riddle, solve a math problem? Because I don't have time for this, so I'd like to get whatever I have to do out of the way so I can get back to what I need to finish.

Thank you for your time.