“So you feel someone’s lust and you lust for another?” He chuckles.
“Oh, no, it’s not quite like that. I can definitely tell when an emotion isn’t my own. I have my own feelings, separate from what I taste from others.”
“You would rather feel other peoples’ emotions instead of your own?” He says calmly, quite interested with the girl before him.
“Not at all. I’m just not given much choice in the matter.” Another shrug.
iamthefirechild replied to your post: iamthefirechild replied to your photo: Who do you…
Do you see that everyone? No attempts at denial. She knows she’s a slut.
The correct term is polyamorous.
No, the correct term is slut. Because I know someone who’s polyamorous and he is nothing like you. The way you are acting and the way he acts are two entirely different things.
Mmm, now who’s claiming to know someone after just a few minutes? Do you know my reasons for what I do?
I’m not claiming to know you, okay bitch? I’m looking at the evidence, which shows that you did that to nine different people, that I’m aware of. I don’t know how many more people you did it to, who all denied you for one reason or another. And at least seven of them are in a relationship, so you’re trying to get them to cheat on their significant others. That’s almost all of them. And then you claim to be polyamorous, which is insulting to my friend, who actually is polyamorous. So I think I would know what it means and how polyamorous people act. And guess what, he hasn’t actually hit on me once. Because he knows I’m married and he respects that. Unlike you.
So I don’t give a damn what your reasons are. You’re not polyamorous. You’re just a slut.
Is there a purpose to this … mmm … lecture? You want me to change, you want me to kill myself, you want me to admit to the error of my ways? You just like to hurt people?
Do you see that everyone? No attempts at denial. She knows she’s a slut.
The correct term is polyamorous.
No, the correct term is slut. Because I know someone who’s polyamorous and he is nothing like you. The way you are acting and the way he acts are two entirely different things.
Mmm, now who’s claiming to know someone after just a few minutes? Do you know my reasons for what I do?
Do you see that everyone? No attempts at denial. She knows she’s a slut.
The correct term is polyamorous.
“Mmm, and now you?” He leans back on one of his hands as he watches the girl.
For the first time, her eyes flicker away from him. “Unless I put my shields up, Doctor, I feel everything.” She shrugs. “I came here because I wanted you. That hasn’t changed.”
“Great.” he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “I have an Empath in my bed, amazing.” he says sarcastically, “So, what do you feel?” He raises an eyebrow.
“What, myself, or from you?” She tips her head to the side. “You’re very confused. A little annoyed. The anger is low, banked. Waiting. Disbelief.”
“Sure.” he nods slowly, “Why aren’t you scared?”
She sits up, utterly ignoring her nudity, to lean forward, focussed on him completely. “I cheat. I’m an empath.”
He blinks, “You lost me. I dout the girls at S.H.I.E.L.D want me, I have that other guy to worry about.” he shrugs then chuckles, “Though I must admit I think you may be smitten with my looks.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not everybody is afraid of your other soul, Dr Banner. Bruce. Can I call you that?”
Tony scanned his eyes over some of the upturned cars and saw the flame dancing to mark the right vehicle. “I don’t have any extra comm sets on me… Look, I’ll get the civillian out of the car if you can do that,” he said, already turning toward the car. He landed in front of it, seeing a young man still seatbelted in and hyperventilating a little.
“Hey, hold tight, all right?” Tony said, glad his faceplate was up—his natural voice was always better in situations like this. Less alien, more soothing than a robotic one.
Time to split the attention again. Summer let the wings drop; there was no need for them anymore, and they’d only draw attention she might not want right now. Unconsciously, one hand went to rub at her temple, and her eyes fell out of focus while she reached out to the pile of rage that was the Hulk.
Anger, where was the edge of the anger? What else was threading through it? Guilt. Grief. Too common, too common, there was — “I don’t have enough data!” she spit under her breath. Landing next to Rogers and Romanov, she said without preamble, “I’m going to try something stupid.”
Linking her fingers together, Summer pointed her palms at the sky, hooked on to the Hulk’s anger, and pulled. A column of flame exploded from her palms with a sharp snap, arrowing straight up into the sky.
Tony tried the door handle, but it was stuck, so he had to rip the door completely off. Carefully, he reached in to pick the guy out of the car. He picked him up and flew him over past the police barricades. That was when he saw a giant pillar of flame shooting up into the air.
Fire? Fire! Summer!
It hurt, opening up like that. The Hulk’s anger was raw, sharp edges and hooks, as destructive as the being it powered, but Summer had faced her own rages and she gritted her teeth and held on. One minute … two … the deluge of anger abruptly ended and she staggered back, the fire wavering, then vanishing.
Summer went to her knees, hard, then crumpled over to her side. With the last vestiges of energy, she jerked her shields back up. “Did I stop him?” she tried to say to anyone nearby.
