bakerstreet | A Picture is Worth... Meme.

A Picture is Worth.... Meme
This ain't your mama's meme. Forget your RNG, forget your tired old prompts.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
It's easy. Comment with your character. Then go comment around.
But instead of pre-filled prompts with words or numbers, you find a gif or image (any gif/image from any canon or scenario you please) that sets the scene.
The picture is the prompt.

WARNING: THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY. AND POSSIBLY NSFW AND THERE MAY BE TRIGGERS.
Some images will not be able to be hidden behind cuts, so please be aware that triggery material may be found within.

If you post an image that is violent or sexual in nature please LINK it, do not embed it into the comment.

Feel free to use this template to stick your image in there.

Good resources for images/gifs are weheartit or tumblr. For not so safe for work gifs/images go here and here.

Original Meme here.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"Okay," he said. He stepped out of his flip flops and draped his towel over his chair.

[ Tony's watching him carefully, trying to look like he isn't doing just that, but in turn, not trying too hard. Loki probably knows already and honestly, dumb people don't watch Loki carefully. Dead people don't watch Loki carefully.

Especially when Loki looks hungry, power running through that frame of his, similar enough to before for Tony to still call it lean, but there's something different, and he can't tell if it's a projection of his ego making him seem different or some sort of aura of crazy, but either way, Tony's watching him carefully.

Memories. That seems safe. ]

Asgard doesn't seem to hold anybody very long. Break a bridge forever, you guys show back up again in a few months, no problem. Send you back with an all-powerful cube, you show up again in my house - does Asgard even have doors or walls or are you all just living somewhere tropical style, with the walls rolled up to the roof and the open air?

[ And hey, what the hell, he was drinking anyway, he might as well get another glass out and pour a couple fingers. Come and get it, Loki. ]

[ It's probably like, 90% from the cold. Maybe 80%. Okay, maybe 65%, but that's my final offer.

It's not really going to get any better with her moving around like that either, just saying. He can't really tell whether or not he should be getting closer or backing off, so he just stays where he is for the moment, appreciating the warmth, feeling himself start to get back up to par and thaw out a little. Actually, for that matter, he's just realized: ] That's not too cold, right, the reactor, right on your... skin like that. You don't have to.

[ Ehh, whatever. If it was cold and bothering her he retroactively assumes she would have mentioned something. ] Well, those sound like stories that ought to be shared with the rest of the class.

[ Oh okay that works too. ] Better, or warmer?

[ Tony is more working on this project than he is paying attention to her, but the reply pulls him back out enough to peer around the hologram again at her before collapsing it to a smaller version, getting rid of a layer or two, and moving back to work maybe on one or two problems at a time rather than all of them at once, as he had been. ]

About?

[ a quad-o alliance. horrifying.

that is, again, what passes for a smirk, because of course, that doesn't count, although as far as he's concerned, if he sees the net results of such role-play out in the field, it counts well enough for him. ] I enjoy a direct approach.

( that looks a little fancier than she is used to; q isn't necessarily one for theatrics. )

A lot of things, Mr Stark. But for the time being, your relationship with SHIELD.

Oh no, no, no. [He all but clucked his tongue at Tony, moving towards him with less swagger and more feral grace, a hunting cat about to strike. He takes the drink, studies it for a moment, then inhales before taking a sip.

And pulls a face.] What false offering is this? Tch. Give me yours. [And he's holding his glass out to you, wanting what you're drinking to see if it is better than this swill you've given him. Loki ever preferred sweet meads, after all.]

Asgard is effectively cut off unless one has means other than the Bifrost to travel. That would be Odin with the Tesseract, and myself with all the various pathways between the worlds that the Aesir are too foolish and stupid to realize the value of. [Just a bit bitter. It's hard being the smartest guy in the room, okay?]

Ah, friend Stark, I remember a standstill fought to when the good Captain and we did spar together. [Yes. Leveling a small mountaintop is a spar. More of a warm-up, actually.]

[Oh sure, leave him with Thor. They get along so well.]

I'm not sorry I missed that. I'll probably take a pass on the hunting trip, too. You two have fun bonding with Clint. Or I could stay and you could invite Fury. There must be something he can shoot an RPG at.

( this time, eve does curse under her breath. at least he's out of the car, giving her a better chance to pursue him, a better chance to keep up. she's already running, shouting to pedestrians to get out of the way — the gun helps in making that point for her. the car blocks the access to the gate that silva's escaped through somewhat, and she ends up sliding over the hood of it. there's little time for caution now, no time to take cover and peer out from behind it to check that the path is clear, that he is not waiting for her behind the next corner, gun drawn.

he wants m. eve doesn't think that he'd hesitate even just a second in killing her if it meant getting to m. for now, though, he is on the run and she isn't going to let him get away if she can help it at all. she knows these streets. he probably does, too, but he hasn't been in london in a while, if her intel's accurate. does he know about the construction sites, the quirks of an ever-changing city that aren't big enough blips on the radar to be announced on the internet?

maybe it boils down to luck.

she's breathing hard already, but over the rush of blood, she's hyperfocused — adrenaline and training combining to let her run just a little faster than she might usually, to be quicker on her feet. she's not q to have the entire road map of london laid out before her, but she can think ahead, calculate where he might run, what lies ahead regardless, at least to some extent. )

She walked to the pool stairs and started getting in.

John laid down on his lounge and watched her.

Once she got waist deep she just dove in and swam to the deep end.

He laid his head back, his eyes closed.

She did some laps before just floating on her back.

Eventually the heat started getting to him so he went to the edge of the pool closest to their things and slipped in.

She saw him get in and swam over to give him a wet, slightly chlorinated kiss.

He grinned. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, smiling back.

"Cooled off already?" He asked.

"Yeah," she said with a nod.

He kissed her forehead. "Okay."

"It's nice," she said swimming backwards away from him a bit and treading water.

He swam after her. "When we get back, wanna take a shower and eat?"

She nodded.

"Room service?"

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A Picture is Worth... Meme.

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