empatheticrobot



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Hey, Steve,” Bucky says. “We’re gonna find Nat a dame, okay?”

    Natasha shoves him into the pool.

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    10 Aug 2020

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Abram sighed. “What we want to know is. How are things. With the boy.”

    The boy. John frowned slightly. He had left The Boy, as Abram liked to refer to him, occupying the living room of the new house, surrounded by textbooks, pointedly ignoring John. “Fine.”

    “What do you mean ‘fine’?” Abram asked, grimacing. “Do I want to know?”

    Abram,” Viggo growled.

    “He’s still alive?” John wasn’t sure what he was meant to say.

    Abram paled. “What? What did… John. When the D’Antonio family proposed this… arrangement to us in exchange for permission to act against one of the Camorra affiliated operations in New York, we guaranteed Santino D’Antonio’s continued good health in your hands. He’s what, nineteen? Eighteen? Only a boy.”

    “He’s not hurt,” John said, even more puzzled now. “Studying for something, I think. We don’t talk.”

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    25 Jul 2020

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    John stared, incredulous. “You want me to be your plus one. To your sister’s coronation.”

    “To put it crudely, yes.” Santino wrinkled his nose. Trust the Baba Yaga to cut brutally to the point.

    “No shooting anyone?”

    “If you feel you have to, be my guest. It’s entirely optional. I’d also prefer that you clear something like that ahead of time with me. As a matter of courtesy.”

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    25 Jul 2020

  4. Public Bookmark 47

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    Security kicked down the door three minutes and thirty seconds after shots were fired in the Mahogany Suite. Winston checked his pocket watch as he strolled into the suite behind his team, wrinkling his nose at the smell of cordite lingering in the air. He surveyed the room with the weary eye of a man with decades of experience in the particular eccentricities of Continental guests and exhaled.

    “A misunderstanding, I hope,” Winston said, eyeballing the two men frozen in a tangle on the couch.

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    24 Jul 2020

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Just gimme the chicken soup,” Scott said, once Agent Woo ran out of breath.

    Woo blinked and handed over the plastic soup container. It was lukewarm to the touch and smelled rich and oily and herby in a way Scott didn’t recognise. Strange wrinkly red raisin-like things floated on the surface among odd white shards, and the chicken was a weird charcoal colour through the clear plastic lid. “Err. Is this really chicken soup?” Scott asked, trying his best not to sound suspicious and failing.

    “It’s obviously chicken soup,” Woo said, a little defensively.

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    24 Jul 2020