Tommy Shepard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doubled_speed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thesphererp2020-11-06 06:53 pm
doubled_speed) wrote in thesphererp2020-11-06 06:53 pm
Memory Share (Whack-A-Weed)
[CW: Explosions, Violence toward plant-people]
The air tastes like fresh cut grass and the copper of blood. It smells like the acrid bite of fresh mulch and the ozone tang that came from the discharge of Kree and Skrull weapons. It mixes in with it were the sounds of rustling leaves and creaking word and loud cries of Human and Kree and Skrull pain. Dammit.
Such, he supposes, is war. Because it really is war. It's always war when it comes to the Kree and the Skrull, isn't it? It doesn't matter that Tommy has had weeks to prepare for this since the moment those two agents had interrupted his night out at the gay bar with Teddy and David while Billy was off on all his silly super hero team shit. What mattered was that that night he'd been told in passing that there was a thing coming, so Tommy had been ready.
Just wish David wasn't off on Krakoa right now. Too many plants.
The thought fades as he dances under the stretching out limb of a Cotati warrior. The thing looked like a massive tree with leaf beard and fungus hair and all that weird shit. Plant people, right? He dances under the arm and aims his hands down at the Cotati's legs. Or roots? Whichever. He taps into his powers, feels the tremble of it running through his body, and pushes it out. The limbs start to explode outwards in a cloud of wood chips, and Tommy keeps moving to grab two nearby bystander humans and carries them out of range.
"Go home," he tells them, coming into normal time briefly before delving back to his own speed and grabbing two green and purple clad soldiers, pulling the one Kree and one Skrull out of the way of a pinecone grenade.
Fucking Cotati.
"Unhand me, human," the Skrull hisses instead of being grateful to Tommy.
"Dude, I'm Emperor Hulkling's best friend. Show some respect," Tommy counters before he tackles another Cotati out of the way. "To help save someone, soldier. Or I'm totally reporting you to your boss."
He doesn't have much time to think, even for him. So many lives to save. There were always so many lives to save. Such was war.
The air tastes like fresh cut grass and the copper of blood. It smells like the acrid bite of fresh mulch and the ozone tang that came from the discharge of Kree and Skrull weapons. It mixes in with it were the sounds of rustling leaves and creaking word and loud cries of Human and Kree and Skrull pain. Dammit.
Such, he supposes, is war. Because it really is war. It's always war when it comes to the Kree and the Skrull, isn't it? It doesn't matter that Tommy has had weeks to prepare for this since the moment those two agents had interrupted his night out at the gay bar with Teddy and David while Billy was off on all his silly super hero team shit. What mattered was that that night he'd been told in passing that there was a thing coming, so Tommy had been ready.
Just wish David wasn't off on Krakoa right now. Too many plants.
The thought fades as he dances under the stretching out limb of a Cotati warrior. The thing looked like a massive tree with leaf beard and fungus hair and all that weird shit. Plant people, right? He dances under the arm and aims his hands down at the Cotati's legs. Or roots? Whichever. He taps into his powers, feels the tremble of it running through his body, and pushes it out. The limbs start to explode outwards in a cloud of wood chips, and Tommy keeps moving to grab two nearby bystander humans and carries them out of range.
"Go home," he tells them, coming into normal time briefly before delving back to his own speed and grabbing two green and purple clad soldiers, pulling the one Kree and one Skrull out of the way of a pinecone grenade.
Fucking Cotati.
"Unhand me, human," the Skrull hisses instead of being grateful to Tommy.
"Dude, I'm Emperor Hulkling's best friend. Show some respect," Tommy counters before he tackles another Cotati out of the way. "To help save someone, soldier. Or I'm totally reporting you to your boss."
He doesn't have much time to think, even for him. So many lives to save. There were always so many lives to save. Such was war.