Kenosky - Blog Posts

so . . . that was the game. a challenge made—she leaned into his knife, reckless and with no fear of injury, nor pain, nor death—and answered. he reached, cybernetic fingers wrapping like a vice around her wrist and forced the sai's fang away from his neck. ❝ you're not my target. ❞ he made no motion to stab her, but nor did he remove his knife from where it lingered against her stomach. ❝ and if i was yours, you wouldn't waste your time talking. ❞

The blade kissing into her skin elicits a grin from the assassin. She anticipated such a reaction. She had never been face-to-face with the Winter Soldier before, but she was not unaware of him. It was a matter of time before the top assassins for Hydra and the Hand found themselves atop the same rooftop. "The same could be said for you. You left my heart beating." She pulls herself into his blade, feeling the cold metal cut a little further into her skin. The assassin doesn't flinch. Her expression as cold as the Soldier's.

Elektra is no stranger to death. Death is a second home with the first being far beyond reach now.

he took in the sight of her, all sharp lines and lethal elegance, a predator carved from shadow and scarlet. the gleam of her sai caught in moonlight and neon, but she wasn't aiming to kill. not yet. he let the distance between them close, let her blade kiss his throat—just enough to break skin.

she's good, but he's been in the game too long to be caught unprepared. his own knife presses against her stomach, sharpened point cutting through fabric just enough to touch skin. ❝ don't start something you can't finish. ❞ he said, voice like gravel, words edged with something sharp and unrelenting.

he tipped his chin back, daring the scarlet assassin to make a move. to step in or out, to attack or defend, it mattered little to him. either she was a nuisance, or an obstacle, but he was prepared to go through her if he had to.

Something hadn't felt right from her peering through the shadows out the window of her hideout. A light reflecting onto the window in a way unexplainable based on what could easily be perceived by the surrounding sources.

Her target asleep. The assassin vanished from the safehouse to the mysterious glimmer reflecting on the window. Feet silent on the way up to the adjacent rooftop. Her sai spin silently in her hands in preparation for the threat she finds herself about to face.

The door opens in silence and Elektra's movements are swift. Eyeing her new target down, assessing his features and their surroundings. She knows of this man if a man is what he could be called. Could she even be called a woman in this state?

After her analysis, the assassin slips behind the soldier. Her sai points into his throat, lightly puncturing the skin near his windpipe. "I'd be careful of your next moves, Winter Soldier."

snowfall slicked the rooftops and turned the streets below into a dull smear of neon reflections and black ice. his target—allison daws, a former operative now in bed with the enemy—had hunkered down in hells kitchen, hoping to disappear. a standard job. he'd done it a hundred times, but something felt . . . wrong.

it was too quiet. no patrols, no sentries. just the low hum of a faulty streetlight and the distant wail of a siren that never got closer. the soldier stared down his scope, watching the safehouse window where the blinds had been pulled for movement. all it would take is for his target to pass by. one quick, clean shot and it would all be over.

a whisper of movement behind him, too smooth for a mercenary and too measured for a common killer. the soldier turned quickly, primed to defend. // @kenosky , a semi - plotted starter .