Falcon and The Winter Soldier | 🛡️🦾

The humid Madripoor night clung to them like a second skin, the neon glow of Lowtown reflecting off rain-slicked alleyways. The Brass Monkey Saloon loomed ahead, its entrance a gaping maw of cheap lights and louder music.

Helmut Zemo

adjusting his cuffs, voice low Remember—here, you are not Sam Wilson, not Bucky Barnes, not Scarlett. You are Conrad, the Winter Soldier, and the Seductress. I am Baron Zemo. We are here for one thing: Selby.

Bucky Barnes

jaw tight, eyes scanning the crowd And if this goes sideways?

Helmut Zemo

Then we adapt. Or we die. Usually both.

He pushed open the door, and the noise hit them like a wave—a cacophony of clinking glasses, raucous laughter, and the thrum of a bass-heavy track. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the sharp tang of cheap liquor.

Sam Wilson

under his breath, falling into Conrad's swagger Just keep it cool. We came here to find Nagel. Focus.

Helmut Zemo

glancing at Scarlett with a thin smile And you, my dear? Ready to remember what the Red Room taught you?