[He considered that for a long moment, the idea that she could and would channel her powers through a gun. It was metal, so why not? He would have thought that the gun itself would be borked from having electricity slowly degrading the internal parts, but he supposed it wasn't there to actually shoot bullets. He could admit that he was proud of her for finding an ingenious way to focus her powers, given it seemed she was having trouble keeping them from going off randomly.
He wasn't afraid of her powers. They may not have manifested completely when she was under his sparse care, but he wasn't worried that she'd lose control. He also wouldn't care if she did and he happened to receive an injury. It would just be a lesson for them both to learn and adapt with.]
Considering you aren't using your powers that I can tell, is that out to prevent a little accident? [It was a logical assumption to jump to. She clearly didn't hate him, and it was odd to think that after all these years, she was actually still fond of the time they had.
He chuckled as she commented on biting, and it was probably wrong to consider flirting with her. The reply died on his lips though as the air in the cave seemed to change, the darkness seeming to lighten and there was the faint but growing sound of pleading on the wind beyond the noise of the blanket blocking out the storm. Soon the sobbing words of "I'll serve. I'll serve, no more...!" could be picked out.
Rumlow pushed himself up on an elbow and peered through the darkness that seemed to peel backwards to reveal a scene from so far back, he no longer considered it worth the time and energy to remember. A naked man hung from chains from the ceiling, covered in wounds, bruises and sweat. Around his dangling feet were three young children, all dead from a single gunshot wound to the foreheads. The looks of terror was still etched on their little faces. A woman lay naked off to the side, shivering but her femoral veins cut; she was obviously bleeding out fast.
A much, much younger Rumlow stood from between her legs, dragging the side bloody knife blade across his thighs to clean it. He was pale as he turned to stare at the man sobbing, and he gave a low moan as Rollins stepped in behind to hold the man's waist while their HYDRA mentor began a systematic and brutal beating.
"Traitors are lower than normal people. They must know they will lose everything," their mentor said as if merely talking about the weather. The smell of death was rising thick around them, coating the back of their throats. The group of four were used to death; they were in the military now and previously had all served prison time.
The beating was handed over to one of their own who was breathing far too loudly.
"Remember, not the head. He will be conscious; he must understand that before he dies, he has sacrificed the lives of everyone he knows and loves." Patient, calm teaching but also an important lesson to them all. Traitors of HYDRA were the worst scum on Earth.]
Warning: Torture, murder, psychological damage
He wasn't afraid of her powers. They may not have manifested completely when she was under his sparse care, but he wasn't worried that she'd lose control. He also wouldn't care if she did and he happened to receive an injury. It would just be a lesson for them both to learn and adapt with.]
Considering you aren't using your powers that I can tell, is that out to prevent a little accident? [It was a logical assumption to jump to. She clearly didn't hate him, and it was odd to think that after all these years, she was actually still fond of the time they had.
He chuckled as she commented on biting, and it was probably wrong to consider flirting with her. The reply died on his lips though as the air in the cave seemed to change, the darkness seeming to lighten and there was the faint but growing sound of pleading on the wind beyond the noise of the blanket blocking out the storm. Soon the sobbing words of "I'll serve. I'll serve, no more...!" could be picked out.
Rumlow pushed himself up on an elbow and peered through the darkness that seemed to peel backwards to reveal a scene from so far back, he no longer considered it worth the time and energy to remember. A naked man hung from chains from the ceiling, covered in wounds, bruises and sweat. Around his dangling feet were three young children, all dead from a single gunshot wound to the foreheads. The looks of terror was still etched on their little faces. A woman lay naked off to the side, shivering but her femoral veins cut; she was obviously bleeding out fast.
A much, much younger Rumlow stood from between her legs, dragging the side bloody knife blade across his thighs to clean it. He was pale as he turned to stare at the man sobbing, and he gave a low moan as Rollins stepped in behind to hold the man's waist while their HYDRA mentor began a systematic and brutal beating.
"Traitors are lower than normal people. They must know they will lose everything," their mentor said as if merely talking about the weather. The smell of death was rising thick around them, coating the back of their throats. The group of four were used to death; they were in the military now and previously had all served prison time.
The beating was handed over to one of their own who was breathing far too loudly.
"Remember, not the head. He will be conscious; he must understand that before he dies, he has sacrificed the lives of everyone he knows and loves." Patient, calm teaching but also an important lesson to them all. Traitors of HYDRA were the worst scum on Earth.]