— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք)

— 𝘞𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. | ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀ’ꜱ ᴀꜱꜱ, ᴇꜱᴛ. 2023 | #𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚍𝚜𝙱𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 | ᴘᴀʀᴏᴅʏ.

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵…

𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊 | 𝙽𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙳
[ 𝗟𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲|𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲, +21, 𝗠𝗩|𝗠S ]

… 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙄’𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙖𝙮.

—↻ | ♡ #MarvelRP

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

#stolen 🇺🇸

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- on, the two engaged in combat, and while he was admittedly getting it handed to him, there was something satisfying about seeing her anger increase because no matter what, he was resilient.

He always got back up.

~ @OfLuxDevil ~

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- grumbled, lowering his hands. Two vs. one. He’s had worse odds.

Shaking his hand out, he made quick work to step away from the lady and pursued the drunk, landing a clear punch in his abdomen, propelling him backwards a few feet and flipping over the top of the table. That -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- of his concerns.

Definitely not how this night should be going.

In retaliation, Steve decided to prove her wrong, that it would be a fight. Not as an act of defiance or as a means to silence her, but rather to show he would never stand for bully-like behaviors. From then -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- that, he decided. He was rude, but he wasn’t keen on forgiving the drunk. Unfortunately, it also seemed she decided she, too, would attack the soldier again as she landed another hit on his jugular.

Steve coughed and breathed heavily, suddenly getting angry. “Alright,” he -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- stepping on their foot in the process.

“Shoot! I’m so sorry,” Steve said as he looked over his shoulder. A woman, smaller than he is now but would have definitely been taller to pre-serum Steve, stood there, glaring.

“Shoot? Sorry? Did Mommy raise a goody-two-shoes or -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- focus. Just as he did so, the drunkard from moments prior came full on swinging, hitting Steve over the head with a pint of beer, instantly dousing him with the alcohol and glass shards making their way down his shirt.

“Okay,” Steve grumbled. The woman had every right to do -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- something?” And American, the soldier thought. That was a surprise. “How you take your sorry and shove it up your ass?” She shouted, directly punching him in the nose for seemingly extra measure.

Immediately, Steve grabbed his nose and shook his head, trying to regain -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- Steve asserted as he backed up, slow at first until the man was practically stumble-jogging.

Okay, so maybe not too sober. This might be easy, Steve reasoned mentally.

Unfortunately, though, he forgot to account for the rest of his surroundings and he backed into someone, -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- would magically command everyone to settle.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t. If anything, it only made matters worse.

A man, drunk enough to slur some words but sober enough to stand upright, rapidly approached the Captain with a fist raised. “Now, now. There’s no need for that,” -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- Howling Commandos getting into it with some other drunks. "Oh, boy," he muttered under his breath.

Not how this night should be going.

Steve stepped away from the counter and approached the vengeful group. “Gentleman!” He shouted as he approached, hands braced as if that -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- certain someone hijacked it from the people, creating it into what he thought was the Perfect Image.

Steve soon scoffed at the thought.

Just as the barkeep began returning each glass, shouting erupted, and the super soldier abruptly turned at attention. It was some of his -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- opted to lean against the counter and take in the surroundings.

Another conundrum, he realized. This German bar was chipper, happy, almost as if everyone in here was oblivious to the world's actual problems. And he wondered if this was how Germany was meant to be before a -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

~ Starter for @OfLuxDevil ~

~ December 1944 ~
The Howling Commandos sat around a small table, dressed in their best military uniform. Each member wore a tan uniform with a matching tie, decorative medals, and pins adorning their jackets. Tonight was meant to be a happy -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- months ago, when something like this was infeasible.

And Bucky wouldn't let him forget that either.

The Captain let out an airy chuckle before retreating to the bar. The bartender was quick to collect the glasses and begin topping them off. Meanwhile, as Steve waited, he -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- their sorrows, to commemorate their fallen comrade.

"I'll get us another round," Steve announced as he stood and collected the mugs off the table, easily grasping them in his hands. Perhaps the only funny thought to come from this night, he thought, as it was only a few -

[— ֆȶɛʋɛ ʀօɢɛʀֆ (ʀք) @OfCapNomad]

- occasion filled with laughter and joyous (albeit horrendous) singing and slamming of beer mugs. Yet, the group was solemn. Quiet.

And Steve didn’t see it changing anytime soon, either, even if it wasn’t exactly one’s ideal bar scene. However, they were desperate to forget -