Open RP Post

[cwolfeh]

There's nothing wrong with reaching for new stars and those distance horizons.

✘ Full muse list is here ✘ Make a comment calling out any of my characters by putting their name in the subject line. ✘ Include a prompt/meme prompt/starter/something for me to reply to. Any sort of prompt you want! Picture, text, etc. I'm down for anything you can come up with. ✘ Alternatively, I'm totally down for AUs as well. Post-apocalyptic, alien invasions, fantasy based--anything! Just tell me what you're interested in! ✘ This is open to everyone! Come one, come all!

Favorite Memes:
Soulmate AU + Morning After Meme + Rainy Day Meme + Dystopian/Post-Apocalyptic AU + Buddy Cop AU

Comments

We'll start with Sam BD I may throw Fitz in a separate tag later. Let me know if this is alright!

[ineversaidpilot]

There were a lot of things in this world that Sam knew how to deal with; he was former military after all. And in the division he'd been apart of, you saw things. Things you didn't easily forget no matter how hard to tried.

Like werewolves. And vampires.

Apparently those were things. Things that had been around for a very long time. He'd never come in direct contact with vampires but werewolves? Those he had quite a bit of experience with. More often than not werewolves were recruited to aid military groups or even private organizations, able to easy blend in with opposing forces and strike as soon as the full moon rose.

But that was the life he'd left behind. He'd lost a partner to one such attack and had been gravely injured--thankfully not by a werewolf--and had returned to normal life. As..normal as life could be for someone whose dreams were haunted by howls and plagued by the fact that he'd been the one that had to put his partner down. He'd been the one that had to use a silver bullet on the man he'd spent a large chunk of his life trusting and working with. He ended up finding a lot of others, both former soldiers and civilians alike, that had dealt with werewolves in some way or another and found solace in their similar situations. Found a little bit of peace even.

And then he'd gotten caught back up in the world all over again and a man named Steve Rogers was to blame.

Steve was the reason he was out in the middle of nowhere on a snowy night attempting to track down someone that the other man was looking for. A former friend and solider, according to Steve, that had allegedly died then surfaced again, spotted among various werewolf 'packs' throughout different cities. But he never lingered long, from what Steve had said, and the other man was worried. Wanted to help. Wanted to find a way to cure him.

Honestly, Sam thought it was a bit of a stretch but a part of him wanted to help because..he would have wanted to do the same for Riley, if there had been an opportunity to do so.

So here he was, trekking back towards the cabin he and Steve had acquired for their wolf 'hunting' trip, handgun tucked into his pants underneath his shirt as he went along. It was just a precaution, of course, and Sam wasn't going to use it unless absolutely necessary but it was better to have it than not have anything at all and end up with a bite.

He doubted he'd much good to Steve like that. (Though heightened senses would come in real damn handy right now.)

ghdjks it's perfect

[cryogenics]

He'd done the best he could to lie low since regaining his freedom. A lot had changed in the world, he had changed. Sometimes it wasn't so easy to blend in. A man with a metal arm? Drew a lot of attention. A large monster with a metal arm? Drew even more attention. At least when he was a wolf he could stick close to the others, keep people from seeing anything. The real wolves didn't seem to trust him a lot of the time, though. Maybe he smelled different, or it was the sound of his arm that made them uneasy. He was just glad that his arm had been designed with his special needs in mind, or else he might have had to rip it off to make way for his transformations. That might've ended poorly.

He didn't hurt anyone, at least, not if he could help it. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Sometimes accidents happened. Sometimes hunters came after him. The ones who thought he was just a really strange wolf got off easy, but the ones who came for a werewolf? Sometimes they didn't walk away.

Staying in one place for too long was dangerous. He was easy to pick out, and that was a problem. He could dull the shine of his arm with dirt, and he did when he had to. Tonight was one of those nights. But tonight there was also an unfamiliar scent in the area that was, for now, his. Humans usually meant trouble.

He lurked in the darkness, following Sam just out of sight, taking care not to make a single sound. Maybe he could solve this without violence, maybe things would work for him for once. Maybe. Concealing himself in the bushes, which was a considerable feat when he was close to seven feet tall and sporting razor sharp claws and fangs, he growled. It was a low, deep rumble in his chest, the sound of a large angry wolf. Or, in this case, a werewolf. If he could scare Sam away, Bucky could move on in peace and not have to worry. Most people didn't want to stick around when they heard wolves.

[ineversaidpilot]

It's that sound that has his trek coming to an abrupt halt, Sam staring straight ahead for a moment as he tries not to let himself get too freak out too fast. He knew that sound; he was extremely familiar with that sound. It was a growl, one that he knew belonged to a werewolf because it wasn't quite as high as a real wolf. It was more guttural; more savage.

His right hand shifts and starts to move behind his back as, at the same time, he turns to look behind him, feeling kind of relieved that the wolf isn't right behind him. But that sort of relief was quickly washed away by the fact that since the wolf wasn't right there it must be hiding.

And God only knew just where it was.

"...You're name's James...right?" he called out as he finally found his voice, not yet drawing his weapon but prepared to do so if it came down to it. "James Barnes?"

[cryogenics]

A human who knew his name. It would have made him worry more if Sam hadn't yet drawn his weapon, and if Bucky didn't already know that he was currently the only one wandering around outside. He might have thought it was a trap otherwise. A diversion.

"How-hh-" he cleared his throat and prepared to try again. It was a little hard to talk like this sometimes; his jaw and vocal chords didn't always agree. "Who are you?" Even when he managed understandable words, they still came out as a guttural growl.