MALOJA SNAKE.

     well, well, well. of course coulson had gotten himself involved. he really was an insipid piece of shit. if she was kinder, gentler, she would remember that he’d come to her when josephine had been in trouble, had given his own details up so that she’d be able to break in. unfortunately, mystique is neither kind nor gentle, and phil coulson makes a habit of getting on her nerves. she taps at her bottom lip, eyes narrowing at yelena. “a party implies i’m just there to watch. somehow, i don’t think that’s the kind of party you had in mind, is it?” crimson lips split again into a wide smirk, one that glints like a blade, but this time, nothing is hidden away.

     “oh, i remember.” she hides the widening of her smirk behind a hand – it’s not that she supports the decision, of course. after all, metahumans included mutants, too, as had been made very clear to her. raven is just a very big fan of seeing yelena brought down a peg or two. “what does that have to do with me?”

     “i thought you were self-employed.” the trained eye. and what is raven, if not that? if yelena is the disguise, then raven is the illusion – the very definition of the hidden serpent. it’s there now, in the grace of her carelessly seated body, the way her eyes gleam with veiled amusement, thoughts lurking in the dark of her eyes. yelena, lowering herself to work with mystique? she’s got raven’s attention, at the very least. “ —— is that right?”

relatable

     she almost croons at the unwanted and, yet, familiar sight of blonde curls. yelena belova. raven can almost see the way she puffs herself up, like a proud parakeet showing off her plumage. when raven smiles, she’s all predator teeth. “ —— well, isn’t that’s just sad. i guess i’ll give you a one time pass; it’s clear how much mixing with the other common criminals has been a traumatic experience for you.” even as she smirks, she wonders what will offend her more – the implication that her intelligence has dimmed, that she’s a common criminal or the reference to her imprisonment.

‘ so that’s how it is, huh? ’ 

well, he’d asked the question, hadn’t he? for better or worse, the truth had an ugly way of clawing its way out. and here it was. all the toys in the world, his own fucking butler if he wanted, a bedroom decorated with whatever cartoon was the flavour of the week, all the bells and whistles.

but she couldn’t do what he’d done when it came down to it. 

alexei held her gaze for another few moments before breaking away, feet turning and tracing out a path to the bedroom, a rucksack already tossed on the bed, the essentials grinning up at him; account details for one of his safety nets, a few mags of rounds, keys to a truck he’d kept stored in the multi-story across the street. another back up piece stowed beneath the driver’s seat in the truck.

another fleeting examination of the room and he nodded, sure that he had all that he needed before retracing his steps back to the kitchen, ‘ i came here on an assignment five years ago, and i made a decision. take what i had always wanted, or stay where my reputation meant something. i had a life in the shadows, i had respect and i had more than a lifetime of loyalty in the bank to use to my favour. ’ a network of contacts throughout more countries than he chose to count. his name had driven fear into targets. and that was gone now. 

setting the open rucksack on one of the stools around the kitchen island, alexei reached across to tug the picture of sasha she’d taken out of its frame. he held it out to yelena, ‘ take it. it’s the closest you’ll get so long as you give a damn about your reputation … we are what we are. you murdered men, women and children yelena — you don’t get to have justice in this world. get over it. ’