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pertinax--loculos · 4 months

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And now, because I'm feeling miserable chaotic as fuck, after just posting some banners for Vibes WIP earlier this arvo, I'm going to post a rewritten version of the first scene of Absent That Night.

Note that this is just a first pass, so even those it's technically ~draft two~ there still may be typos, etc etc.

But regardless! I hope you enjoy. ^_^ Any feedback is welcome -- particularly things like would you like to read on, does this make sense, do you have any questions that aren't plot related? (I'm super close to and familiar with this WIP, so I sometimes forget what the reader would and wouldn't know, and I'm not sure if foreshadowing etc would come across correctly.)

Anyway, it's approximately 2.5k words, so really if you read it at all I love you for it. <3

Latrell stared at the blank space on the wall, incensed. It used to host a painting. Much like the sections of wall to his left and right, in fact. Though those paintings were still there. Of course. Voices drifted down the long featureless corridor from his right. “I just don’t understand.” Shrill, piercing, unbelievably loud. A woman accustomed to getting her own way. “We pay all this money, and that is supposed to protect us from situations like these, and now you’re telling me that it doesn’t?” Latrell narrowed his eyes until the wall in front of him almost disappeared. “I understand your frustration, ma’am.” Albie’s voice was low, soothing, a stark contrast. Ever the professional. “And you are correct, your contract with LEAH does guarantee swift retrieval of all listed items. However, the item in question was not on the list. Surely you understand how that might change the situation.” Latrell smiled to himself and moved down the corridor, away from the woman’s increasingly hysterical objections.

Habitually, he dipped mental fingers into the Orn, the waterlike texture of his flow shimmering in his mind’s eye. A few signatures jumped out at him, the paintings lining the corridor. Not the one that was missing. He’d never touched that one before, never even seen it, hadn’t had a chance to familiarise himself. Absolutely no chance of tracking its location.

He blinked, moving away from the Orn and back into the physical world.

The corridor was lined on both sides, no rhyme or reason to the order of the artwork, no overarching theme. The only thing the pieces had in common was their price. The corridor was an exhibition of wealth, not of passion.

At this end it opened up into a large, airy living space, made to seem even larger by the wall of windows directly opposite. They looked out over the centre of the city, all steel and glass and whitewashed concrete. Far off in the distance, the dark line of the waterfront, the ocean stretching to the horizon.

“Nice view,” Albie said from his elbow.

Latrell glanced at her. “You manage to calm Mrs. Bishop down?”

“Calm might be too strong a word.” Albie rolled her eyes. “I think I’ve talked her down from a lawsuit. And she’s going to let us actually do our jobs, so that’s something.”

“It sure is.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you love me.”

She patted his shoulder, the bad one, and Latrell had to hide his flinch. Albie probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway; she stepped further into the living area, spinning in a slow circle as she took it in. “Got anything yet?”

“Besides the obvious? No.” Latrell rubbed at an eye under his glasses, a headache beginning to tug at his temples. “Honestly I don’t even think there’s any point searching.”

“Naw, don’t be like that. It’s not our job. Besides, he’s gotta make a mistake eventually. Today might be our lucky day.”

Latrell seriously doubted it, but he moved next to her to examine the table.

It was an ostentatious piece of furniture if he’d ever seen one. Swirling patterns from the original tree paired with spaces of black and clear resin, sitting on legs that seemed to Latrell at best impractical and at worst dangerous for the tens of thousands of dollars he was sure the tabletop cost.

Not that it would be worth that now.

Etched directly into the resin — deep enough that it hit the centuries-old wood in some places, small shavings dusting the surface around the gouges — was a series of lines, swirling around each other. An artwork in itself, really, evocative of water, or perhaps a representation of wind. Latrell couldn’t look at it without thinking of his flow. And in the centre, a single word.

Nox

Latrell brushed his gloved fingers over the edge of the carvings. They were deep yet smooth, nothing rushed or crude about them. Each line a separate groove. Not made with anything as pedestrian as a knife. Perhaps a hammer and chisel. A specialised instrument, at the very least.

“He’s getting bolder.” Albie stalked around the table as if to view the signature from every angle. “This is bigger than anything else we’ve seen.”

“More space to work with, maybe. Not often the most expensive item in a room is a table.” Latrell traced the sharp angles of the ‘N’. “Did the Bishops tell you where they were last night?”

“Dinner at the Station House, then apparently they went to a friend’s house to kick on. No plan to stay the night, but that’s what ended up happened. Got home about three hours ago, took them an hour to discover the theft.”

Surprising it was that fast. The apartment was big enough they could’ve spent days inside without visiting every room.

“Do they often stay out all night after a dinner?”

Albie was at the head of the table, arms crossed. “Took a bit of finagling, but I reckon so, yeah. Mrs. Bishop wouldn’t admit it but the way she talked gives me the impression it’s not an uncommon occurrence.”

“So no way to be certain they wouldn’t return, but the odds were pretty good.” Latrell massaged his temple with two fingers. “Still, he wouldn’t leave anything to chance. Would’ve gotten in early. Security cameras?”

The hopeful uptick in his voice made Albie smile. “Nothing.”

“I fucking hate this guy.”

“Oh, I know.” Albie’s voice was teasing, but there was a note of censure behind it. Latrell kept his eyes on the table so she wouldn’t see his wince.

Fucking Nox. The man had been a thorn in Latrell’s side for nearly three years, and that thorn was quickly turning into an entire branch.

LEAH’s Artefact Recovery Division served the clients who could afford to have their most valuable pieces insured with something more than money. Every Agent assigned to the unit had an affinity for object tracking; a location on the Orn that allowed them to see, touch, familiarise themselves with a certain item, and then use the Orn to find it. Latrell had been assigned to the ARD eight years ago, a consolation prize after an on-the-job injury had caused the police to fire him. He’d met Albie about twelve months later, and they’d been partnered six months after that.

Most of the time an ARD Agent’s job was fairly simple. If a thief managed to bypass the comprehensive security systems a LEAH client could afford, they tended to know which piece would get them the most on the black market. Unfortunately for them, so did the Agents, so the pieces were already listed and a part of an Agent’s repertoire. A brief look at what item was missing and the relevant Agent briefly checking out the Orn would usually locate the piece.

Usually. Nox was a different story.

He had an uncanny ability to target only those items that Agents hadn’t yet had a chance to itemise. Generally new acquisitions, often those on the books to be added to a client’s list within the next few days. It was specific enough that there’d been talk of Nox having some inside source.

Latrell wasn’t sure that was true. But it was getting to the point that he’d have to agree or figure out a more compelling theory soon.

Because the last six pieces that Nox had stolen — the last six households where he’d taken something and then destroyed something else, picking a room and defacing the most expensive item to leave his signature and no doubt of who it was that had committed the theft — had all been on Latrell’s register.

Once was an anomaly. Twice was coincidence. Three times was a pattern. Six times got people asking questions.

The sharp trill of Latrell’s phone cut through his musing. He answered it without looking at the screen. “Latrell.”

“Good morning, Agent,” a voice purred in his ear. Male. Smooth. Smug. “Enjoying yourself, I trust?”

“Who is this?” Latrell snapped. Albie raised an eyebrow, and he held up a hand. The voice was utterly unfamiliar, which raised a host of problems, chief among which was— “How did you get this number?”

“I have resources.” The man managed to convey the wave of his hand with the tone of his voice. “I should think you would know this by now.”

“Look, whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken. You’ve clearly got the wrong number, and I’m busy right now, so—”

“Forgive me. I thought you’d pardon the intrusion, given that it’s my handiwork you’re currently admiring.”

“What?” Latrell spun. Pointless. There was no one else in the room. “Fuck off. You think I’m going to fall for that?”

A chuckle in his ear, silky and deep. Whoever it was, they had a hell of a voice for radio. “Is it really that improbable that I would contact you, Agent Latrell?”

Latrell stopped.

Forced his mind back into its box. There was any number of reason the caller would know his name. No need to get ahead of himself. No reason to let his thoughts careen out of control down paths that made no sense—

“Have you seen the Michelson, by the way? It truly is a stunning piece. They say his use of colour is unrivalled.”

Latrell’s heart tripped. Stumbled. Caught its balance at a speed that felt unhealthy. They hadn’t known which piece had been stolen until they arrived. That information hadn’t been publicised. It hadn’t even been passed along to LEAH yet.

“Latrell,” Albie said quietly.

He waved in her direction again. Turned away. “Okay, so you’ve managed to find out some information. Congrats. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna believe—”

“Agent,” the man cut in again, “If you examine the table from the end closest to the couch, I believe that will be proof enough.”

The reference to the table, the knowledge of the signature, was proof enough. Nothing that had ever been released to the press. And it was unusual, moreso than any other scene. Not a coffee machine. Not a couch. Not, perhaps most memorably, an entire sound system. Never the artworks themselves, but always an item of incredible value — generally more than Latrell’s annual paycheck — marked, dismantled, defaced. Ruined.

Latrell stepped around the table. Stared down at it for a few long seconds. Saw only swirls and whisps and curving, branching lines.

He squinted a little, tilted his head, and it jumped out at him like an optical illusion snapping into focus. Seamlessly integrated into the pattern, a series of letters, distinct and separate from the larger, blocky moniker.

Hello, Latrell

“The hell…” The words were faint.

The man on the phone chuckled again. “You’re welcome. I am quite sure your boss will be very curious as to the meaning of that.”

“What the—”

“Apologies, Agent, but I really must be going. Places to go, paintings to fence. You know how it is. Though if I may offer some advice?”

He paused. Not long enough for Latrell to formulate a response.

“You really should make an effort to leave work earlier. Eight pm every night this week? It’s a recipe for burnout.”

Latrell dropped the phone from his ear, staring at the screen. The unknown number stared back at him, stark black numbers on a too-white screen.

Implausible. Impractical. Impossible. Beyond that, beyond the logistics and the motivation and the feasibilityof it all, it was just fucking insane. If he was right, if the man on the phone was who he thought it was, then he’d done all that, found Latrell’s number, tracked his movements, knew that he’d be at this crime scene, knew enough about his life to know when he was leaving work every night, all with the ultimate goal of calling him to— what? Gloat? Provide a clue? Hear the sound of his own fucking voice?

Each possibly theory was more insane than the last. Latrell swept off his glasses and pinched at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

“Brishan!” Albie all but shoved him, and Latrell realised it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention.

“Sorry,” he said, too distracted to bother with sincerity, mind racing, whirling, unmoored. He shoved his glasses back on, tried to school his expression back into neutrality. “I was just—”

“Who was that?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. It was nothing. Nobody. A prank call.” Yeah, right.

“Who’d they say it was?”

“They didn’t, actually.” He realised the truth of the statement even as it left his mouth. Not that it mattered. The content of the conversation left very little doubt just who he’d been speaking to. As much as his brain was trying to find ways to deny it. “Never actually identified themselves. They just implied— but it wasn’t really— I mean, I’m not sure—”

He exhaled, rubbed at his eye again. Spoke without lowering his hand. “I actually— I think it was Nox.”

Beat. Then: “What?”

Latrell kept rubbing at his eye. Didn’t really think that question deserved an answer.

Albie took a few moments to realise that was his conclusion, then added, “Are you sure?”

“Fuck, no, I’m not sure!” Latrell dropped his hand in time to catch the hurt look flicker over Albie’s face, shoulders tense, spine straight. He sucked in a deep breath, tried to modulate his tone. “No, I’m not sure. But… well, he was certainly pretty convincing.”

Albie chewed her lower lip for a moment. “We’re gonna have to report this.”

Irritation flickered hot and fluid in Latrell’s chest. He loosened his jaw, endeavoured to keep his voice entirely level when he said, “Of course I’m going to report it.”

It still came out sharp. Too sharp, if the slight lift to Albie’s eyebrows was anything to go by.

Latrell closed his eyes for a beat. Shoved down the slow boil of annoyance licking at his insides, forced himself to inhale, exhale. Slowly. Repeated, “I’m going to report it.”

Some of her scepticism faded, though an element of obstinance remained in the jut of her chin, the wrinkle between her brows. “Good.”

Latrell’s jaw locked. He turned away from her, back towards the table. Let his eyes skip over those two horrifying words, embedded in the centre of a criminal’s signature. Abruptly wished he’d chosen something else to look at.

“It’s… weird, right?” Albie’s voice had softened. “After the last few months…”

“Yeah it fucking is.” He sucked in a deep breath, gestured towards the table. “And this doesn’t help.”

Albie stepped up next to him. He didn’t really want to show her this. Didn’t really have a choice. It wasn’t exactly something he could hide, couldn’t change the signature so those two words were no longer a part of it.

But it was okay. Most people so far believed what he thought, that he was just a random target. Believed that he had no idea why Nox was fixated on him. Believed that he was just as in the dark as the rest of them.

But things kept piling up. Coincidence upon coincidence. As a cop Latrell had been trained to believe coincidences didn’t exist. But coming up with any other theory now seemed even harder.

He knew the instant Albie saw it. Felt her tension lurch like a physical presence in the room.

“Oh,” she said, quiet, loaded.

“I know.”

Albie turned to him, her face as earnest as her voice. “You’re fucked.”

Latrell removed his glasses to pinch his eyes again. “I know.”

#pockets muses IWL #WIP: ATN #original writing #writeblr #excerpt #enjoy you guys ^_^

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lavellenchanted · 2 years

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Steggy Week 2022, Day 1: Inspired By ↳ The Mummy

“Do you think he’ll actually come?”

They’ve been at the dock since just after sunrise – Peggy almost forcibly dragged Howard from his bed, she was so eager to get going – but all that means is that she had hours to worry, pacing back and forth in front of the gangway up to the boat that will take them along the Nile as she watches more and more people arrive with no sign of Steve Rogers.

By now the sun has fully risen, beating down on them from a cloudless blue sky, and there’s already a sizeable crowd despite the early hour. Several boats are having their cargo unloaded, others are getting boxes, carts and even horses packed on ready for leaving. There are plenty of market stalls around as well, and the air is filled with shouts and calls of vendors eager to catch the attention of the travellers disembarking, a swirling mix of Arabic, Masri and English all blending together.

To Peggy’s impatient mind it feels like practically everyone in Cairo is here except the man that’s supposed to be guiding them.

Howard has somehow (Peggy knows better than to ask how) procured himself a chair and is lounging back in it while poor Jarvis stands watch over their luggage. He is, as always, frustratingly nonchalant, barely glancing at Peggy over the top of his sunglasses while dismissing her concern with an airy wave of his hand.

“Of course he will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know his type,” Howard shrugs. “He’s a boy scout.”

Peggy cannot help giving a sceptical snort. “A boy scout? Howard, you found the man inside a jail.”

He just grins. “Even so. He gave us his word, Peg, and to a guy like that? That means everything. He’ll show, so calm down. It’s exhausting just watching you.”

She spears him with a dark look and moves away to stand nearer Jarvis, wondering what Howard’s loyal valet thinks of this whole endeavour. He would never openly criticise his employer, Peggy knows, but sometimes she catches the slight downturn of his mouth and the flash of exasperation in his eyes that suggests he disapproves.

Edwin Jarvis, it must be said, is in possession of far more common sense that Howard Stark. It baffles her why he continues to stay in his post – but then, Howard has also managed to talk her into remaining friends with him.

“What do you think?” she asks Jarvis quietly.

He doesn’t answer for a moment but is clearly considering as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and delicate dabs at the perspiration already breaking out along his brow.

“I think that with the exception of young women who have caught his fancy Mr Stark is, generally, a reasonable judge of character,” he finally replies, voice thoughtful. “And for all he was incarcerated, I did not get the impression that Mr Rogers was a dishonest man.”

Oddly enough, Peggy rather agrees with that assessment. She has met plenty of slippery characters before – people who have come to the library trying to pass off forged and stolen trinkets as rare and expensive artifacts, who she can see weighing up every angle and who smile like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths while they lie straight to her face.

That was not how Steve Rogers had seemed. He had been angry, yes, and in a rather desperate situation. But that wasn’t the same as being dishonest.

“You didn’t like him,” Jarvis comments, watching her.

That’s not quite it either, but as Peggy thinks back cannot help but remember the feel of Rogers’ fingers, callused and firm, as they clasped her chin, and the sudden, hard pressure of his lips against hers through the bars of his cell. Her face flushes with embarrassment and outrage all over again, but what irritates her the most is the shiver that runs down her spine and the small part of her that rather regrets that the kiss had been so short.

“He was just – he was rude, and filthy,” she says, a little snappishly, not wanting Jarvis to see the conflict on her face. “He struck me as a complete scoundrel.”

But before Jarvis can reply a deep, familiar voice sounds behind her.

“Anyone I know?”

Peggy turns on her heel, quite ready to let Steve Rogers know she’s talking about him and to make clear exactly what she thinks of men who go about kissing women they barely know out of the blue, but the words immediately die on her tongue, her mouth hanging open as she stares in surprise.

Rogers has put the few hours since his release from prison to good use. He’s bathed and cleaned, the stink of the jail cell replaced with soap and fresh cotton, and is clothed in a fresh suit that shows off his broad shoulders. Gone, too, is the scruff of beard covered his face, revealing a strong, square jaw and high cheekbones. His hair has been cut and combed back, shining gold where the sunlight hits it.

If she had met him today, Peggy would never have guessed that he had been in jail at all. He looks entirely respectable, and ridiculously handsome.

“Oh, uh . . . good morning,” she finally manages to say, hoping not all of her thoughts were visible on her face. “Glad you could join us.”

To his credit, he doesn’t comment on her obvious surprise, just lifts one corner of his mouth in a faint smile and says, “Ready to get going?”

Peggy nods, and as something flutters below her ribs she finds she’s no longer sure if she wants this to be a short expedition, or a long one.

#steggy #steggy week #steggy week 2022 #steve x peggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #my fic #coming in just under the wire . . . .#otp: the right partner

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wpmorse · 1 year

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The big wench rose to her feet. "I serve Lady Stark."

Jamie V - 513

Roose Bolton invites his two prisoners to dinner.

This was another example of Mr. Martin leaving out details that don't really have anything to do with the story but give your humble illustrators headaches. In this case, I couldn't figure out the seating arrangement. Mr. Martin says that Jamie sits next to Roose and that's it. After that, I was forced to guess or make stuff up.

I enjoyed how Brienne lets her pigheadedness and honor get in the way of her common sense. In hindsight, I could have picked a better angle with Brienne's righteous indignation in full view, but I'd have the same problem with Roose and Jamie.

#asoaif #a storm of swords #pen and ink #illlustration #brienne of tarth #roose bolton #jamie lannister

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irondadmadlads · 2 years

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Irondad Prompt #45:

Peter: Mr. Stark, if I ask you a question, can you give me your 100%, honest opinion?

Tony: Sure!

Peter: Am I dumb?

Peter, who can do calculus and physics while also having no common sense:

Tony: Yesn’t

#iron man #irondad and spiderson #irondad and spiderson prompts #irondad prompts #spider man #spiderson prompts #iron dad #irondad #peter parker #spiderson #peter parker & tony stark #tony stark #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu

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forlorn-kumquat · 1 year

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manhattan's most eligible

also here on ao3

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“You’re gonna love me.”

“I already love you,” Jim said, distractedly, not looking up from his textbook - at least not until Carol dropped a heavy manila envelope on top of the book. “Okay, what’s this?”

“You’re gonna love me,” Carol parroted in a sing-song as she dropped into the seat across from him and swinging her feet up onto the table. Jim absently swatted at her shoes until she lowered her legs.

“What is it?” he repeated, even as he opened the envelope and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. Skimming over the first page, he started shaking his head. “Oh, hell no.”

“You’re always going on and on about the guy,” Carol told him, but Jim scowled at her.

“Yeah, because he’s a spoiled rich, alcoholic asshole-”

“Was an alcoholic asshole,” Carol corrected him. “Then his parents were killed in that crash and he sobered up, completely turned his image around, and turned his father’s weapon’s company into the leading clean energy producer in the world. He made Time Magazine’s ‘Most Influential People’ list. Hundreds of people are practically salivating for the chance to get to date Tony Stark.”

“Not me,” Jim insisted.

“He got into MIT when he was fourteen, Carol, he’s so smart,” Carol said, a teasing tone in her voice. “Look at this cool robot Tony Stark built, Carol. I hate his stupidly handsome face, Carol.”

“That’s not fair,” Jim protested. “We agreed that drunk talk stays firmly in drunk nights. You’re not allowed to use it against me.”

“I am when it’s for your own good,” Carol told him.

“Look,” Jim said, firmly, “I am not going on Manhattan’s Most Eligible just to date Tony Stark. And that’s final.”

----------

Jim stared up at Stark Mansion in disbelief. “I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” he grumbled. “You took advantage of me in my drunken state.”

“You got drunk after you signed the papers for the audition,” Carol reminded him.

“I’m not doing this,” Jim replied, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

“Sure you are,” Carol said, linking her arm through his and pulling him toward the front door. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” Jim echoed. “Yeah, me and eleven other desperate people hoping to hook up with a billionaire.”

Carol pulled him to a sudden stop, turning to face him. “If you really don’t want to do this,” she said, “just screw up the audition and you’ll never even make it onto the show. But at least give yourself a chance to meet the guy, talk to him. Maybe you and Stark will have a lot in common.”

Jim couldn’t even muster up a reply to that one. Instead, he squared his shoulders and marched up the stairs, knocking firmly on the front door. “I’m here for the audition,” he told the woman who pulled the door open.

“Come on in, Mr.-”

“Rhodes,” Jim finished, as the woman trailed off expectantly. “James Rhodes.”

“Pepper Potts,” the woman introduced herself, shaking his hand. “Tony Stark’s personal assistant. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jim replied, “I - uh -” and then he stopped, because what was he supposed to say, now? ‘Hey, I’m really looking forward to publicly displaying my embarrassing crush on your boss on national TV?’ Yeah, that would go over well.

“The contestants are all gathered in here,” Potts said, smoothly filling in the silence as she led him down a series of hallways, stopping in front of a small study. “Auditions should begin shortly.”

She strode briskly away as he stepped into the small room, leaning against the door frame as he studied the men and women clustered around the room. They all looked like the usual, flashy party-goers that Stark had been seen with in his wilder days, more money than common sense. They were all wearing clothes that probably cost more than he could make in a month, name-dropping celebrities like they were close, personal friends. Jim was pretty sure he’d seen flasks in a few hands, a joint being less-than-discreetly passed around.

He couldn’t have been more out of place.

‘I gotta get out of here,’ Jim thought. Screw the audition, screw his stupid crush, he was so far out of Stark’s league, how could he ever hope to compare to the other people in the room?

Backing out of the study, Jim started back toward the front door. Carol would probably give him endless amounts of grief for backing out, but this wasn’t him. He wasn’t welcome here.

----------

He also wasn’t getting out of here.

He’d thought that he’d kept track of the hallways that Potts had led him down when she was showing him to the study, but apparently not as well as he’d thought. Because he’d been wandering around for at least fifteen minutes, down one hallway and then another, and he was pretty sure he’d been going in circles the entire time. And he was absolutely nowhere near the front door.

“I just want to get the hell out of here,” he muttered, as he tried to figure out if he’d already gone down the hallway he found himself in front of, one with a white marble bust of some dead guy that looked nearly identical to the ones in all the other hallways.

At the end of the hallway, a door swung open, a soft light glowing from the room beyond. Jim stared at the open door, briefly considered if he was about to walk into the opening scene of a horror movie, then decided that he was being ridiculous and headed for the doorway.

Only to curse himself for an idiot when the door swung shut behind him as soon as he stepped through.

“You’re gonna get murdered,” Jim told himself out loud, as he fruitlessly rattled the doorknob that would not turn. “You’re gonna go down those stairs and find some kind of killer robot that Stark is keeping in the basement.”

Because he was at the top of the stairs, staring down into the darkness that the stairs disappeared into. And he was actually considering going down those stairs rather than doing the sensible thing and pounding on the door to call for help.

Not that he’d likely be heard if he did, because he hadn’t seen anyone in all the time he’d been wandering the hallways and he doubted anyone was going to appear now. At least going down the stairs was slightly more productive than just staying put.

“So murdered,” Jim muttered, as he descended the stairs. “Carol’s gonna feel so guilty when she hears I died in Stark’s house.”

But he kept going anyway, following the lights that lit each section of stairs as he hit it. Motion activated, probably, although no matter how hard Jim looked, he couldn’t see any sensors.

At the bottom of the staircase, another door opened silently. As it swung toward him, Jim could hear the faint sound of hard rock and a rhythmic pounding noise. And he saw another door about a foot in front, blocking him from the rest of the room. This door, too, swung open for him.

Jim’s ears were almost instantly assaulted by the sheer wall of noise emanating from the room. He actually took a step back (as if any kind of distance was protection from that kind of noise), hands flying up to try and protect his ears. Almost immediately, the noise dropped to a far more tolerable level.

“Hey, J, where’s my music?” A tousled head popped up from behind the table in the middle of the room.

The man that stood up looked vaguely familiar, wearing beat-up jeans and a faded band tee, face streaked with grease and black hair liberally covered in dust. Jim wondered if he worked for Stark.

“Um, hi,” he offered, with an awkward wave.

The man blinked at Jim and said, “You’re not J.”

“No, I’m Jim.” Jim jerked his thumb back in the direction of the staircase. “Um, I’m really sorry if I’m intruding, but the door at the top locked behind me, and the doors kept opening-“

“J, are you tormenting the guests?” the man asked,. “Wait, why do we have guests? Did I know we have guests?”

“He’s here for the audition, Sir,” a disembodied voice said, and Jim jumped a foot in the air.

“What the hell?!”

The man chuckled. “JARVIS is an AI who runs the house,” he said. “He sees all, knows all.”

“An AI?” Jim echoed, looking around the room. “Holy crap, that’s so cool.”

The man grinned, his face lighting up. “That’s pretty much why I built him,” he said, and suddenly Jim realized why the man looked so familiar.

“You’re Tony Stark,” he said, wincing. “I mean, this is Tony Stark’s house, of course you’re him - you - you’re you.”

“I am me,” Stark agreed, still grinning. Jim was glad that someone could find his embarrassed rambling funny. Then, Stark took pity on him. “Let’s start over,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Tony.”

“I’m Jim,” Jim told him, shaking his hand. “And I’m lost.”

“Well, let’s get you found,” Tony said. “This place can be a real rat warren if you’re not used to it.” As they climbed the stairs, he added, “Hell, I still get lost and I grew up here.”

The door at the top opened easily under Tony’s hand, and Jim scowled at the doorknob. “That door was locked, I swear.”

“Sometimes these old doors can be tricky,” Tony said. “No matter how many times I try to fix them. Isn’t that right, J?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” JARVIS said, an affronted tone in his electronic voice. “Also, Ms. Potts is looking for you, Sir.”

“Looking for me, why?” Tony asked.

“The auditions, Sir.”

Tony pulled a face. “You keep talking about auditions, J. What are these auditions?”

“For Manhattan’s Most Eligible?” Jim offered up. “The reality show you’re filming in your house?”

Tony froze, turning slowly to look at Jim with a look of undisguised horror on his face. “What reality show I’m filming in my house?”

#james rhodes #tony stark #mcu #iron man #kumquat writes

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Davos III (Chapter 19)

Davos had come to White Harbor as an envoy, but they had made him a captive. His chambers were large, airy, and handsomely furnished, but there were guards outside his doors. From his window he could see the streets of White Harbor beyond the castle walls, but he was not allowed to walk them.

Fancy room for a captive.

+.+.+

Davos had hoped to speak with Wyman Manderly alone, but he found a crowded court. Along the walls, the women outnumbered the men by five to one; what few males he did see had long grey beards or looked too young to shave.

Mr. Manderly, where are all your fighting men?

+.+.+

Nor did he find any welcome in the pale blue eyes of Wyman Manderly. His lordship's cushioned throne was wide enough to accommodate three men of common girth, yet Manderly threatened to overflow it. His lordship sagged into his seat, his shoulders slumped, his legs splayed, his hands resting on the arms of his throne as if the weight of them were too much to bear. Gods be good, thought Davos, when he saw Lord Wyman's face, this man looks half a corpse. His skin was pallid, with an undertone of grey.

He's grey like Boros Blount. Heart disease confirmed.

If Manderly is supposed to remind me of Illyrio, it's working.

It was much too big for him, a cushioned throne intended to accommodate the magister's massive buttocks, with thick sturdy legs to bear his weight. Tyrion Lannister had lived all his life in a world that was too big for him, but in the manse of Illyrio Mopatis the sense of disproportion assumed grotesque dimensions. - Tyrion I, ADWD

And they're both trying to win a kingdom with a boy!

+.+.+

Left of the high seat stood a maester nigh as fat as the lord he served, a rosy-cheeked man with thick lips and a head of golden curls.

This is Maester Theomore, a Lannister of Lannisport.

Manderly has kept him in the dark for obvious reasons.

+.+.+

On a cushioned stool at his feet perched a plump pink lady. Behind Lord Wyman stood two younger women, sisters by the look of them. The elder wore her brown hair bound in a long braid. The younger, no more than fifteen, had an even longer braid, dyed a garish green.

The plump pink lady is Leona Woolfield, wife of Wylis Manderly, who is still being held at Harrenhal by the Lannisters. The two younger women are her daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla.

Of the three, only Wynafryd knows what's going on.

+.+.+

"You stand before Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor and Warden of the White Knife, Shield of the Faith, Defender of the Dispossessed, Lord Marshal of the Mander, a Knight of the Order of the Green Hand," he said. "In the Merman's Court, it is customary for vassals and petitioners to kneel."

Lord Marshal of the Mander? Buddy, you need to let that one go.

Every dead Frey buys him another title I'll tolerate.

+.+.+

"I have a string of titles too. Lord of the Rainwood, Admiral of the Narrow Sea, Hand of the King."

The plump woman on the stool rolled her eyes. "An admiral without ships, a hand without fingers, in service to a king without a throne. Is this a knight who comes before us, or the answer to a child's riddle?"

Lmao.

+.+.+

"Stannis may have enemies in this hall. I do not."

"Not even the men who slew your son?" Davos pointed. "These Freys were amongst his hosts at the Red Wedding."

One of the Freys stepped forward, a knight long and lean of limb, clean-shaved but for a grey mustache as thin as a Myrish stiletto. "The Red Wedding was the Young Wolf's work. He changed into a beast before our eyes and tore out the throat of my cousin Jinglebell, a harmless simpleton. He would have slain my lord father too, if Ser Wendel had not put himself in the way."

Lord Wyman blinked back tears. "Wendel was always a brave boy. I was not surprised to learn he died a hero."

The enormity of the lie made Davos gasp. "Is it your claim that Robb Stark killed Wendel Manderly?" he asked the Frey.

"And many more. Mine own son Tytos was amongst them, and my daughter's husband. When Stark changed into a wolf, his northmen did the same. The mark of the beast was on them all. Wargs birth other wargs with a bite, it is well-known. It was all my brothers and I could do to put them down before they slew us all."

The man was smirking as he told the tale. Davos wanted to peel his lips off with a knife.

Baking humans and serving them to their kin is okay, actually.

"He is fat," Ser Rodrik admitted, "but he is not stupid. - Bran II, ACOK

+.+.+

"Can you offer any proof of this incest, ser?" Maester Theomore asked, folding his soft hands atop his belly.

Edric Storm, thought Davos, but I sent him far away across the narrow sea, to keep him safe from Melisandre's fires.* "You have the word of Stannis Baratheon that all I've said is true."

"Words are wind," said the young woman behind Lord Wyman's high seat, the handsome one with the long brown braid. "And men will lie to get their way, as any maid could tell you."

"Proof requires more than some lord's unsupported word," declared Maester Theomore. "Stannis Baratheon would not be the first man who ever lied to win a throne."

*Stannis's fires.

Seems like he's laying the groundwork for Aegon debate to happen within the story.

+.+.+

If White Harbor should declare for Stannis, her husband would answer with his life. How can I ask Lord Wyman to condemn his son to death? What would I do in his place if Devan were a hostage?

Gosh, don't say things like that.

Please get Devan away from Stannis.

+.+.+

"It has been centuries since White Harbor has seen any wildlings, and the ironmen have never troubled this coast. Does Lord Stannis propose to defend us from snarks and dragons too?"

ha Ha, get it?? Dragons are real, and the north will need defending.

Unfortunately the guy who would like to hatch one isn't going to help.

+.+.+

"Before he was slain, Lord Tywin offered White Harbor full pardon for our support of the Young Wolf. He promised that my son would be returned to me once I paid a ransom of three thousand dragons and proved my loyalty beyond a doubt. Roose Bolton, who is named our Warden of the North, requires that I give up my claim to Lord Hornwood's lands and castles but swears my other holdings shall remain untouched. Walder Frey, his good-father, offers one of his daughters to be my wife, and husbands for my son's daughters here behind me. These terms seem generous to me, a good basis for a fair and lasting peace. You would have me spurn them. So I ask you, Onion Knight—what does Lord Stannis offer me in return for my allegiance?"

War and woe and the screams of burning men, Davos might have said.

Daenerys is running the same sale!

What about the Red Wedding? What about Wendel Manderly? Does anyone have to answer for that? The gall of the Lannisters and Freys.

+.+.+

Ser Marlon went on. "How many men can Stannis put into the field, can you tell us that? How many knights ride with him? How many bowmen, how many freeriders, how many men-at-arms?"

Too few, Davos knew. Stannis had come north with no more than fifteen hundred men … but if he told them that, his mission here was doomed. He fumbled for words and found none.

That's pathetic.

How are you going to come to the north, and burn their gods, when they make up the majority of your army?

+.+.+

The fat lord opened his eyes slowly, as if the effort were almost too much for him. "My cousin cuts to the bone, as ever. Do you have any more to say to me, Onion Knight, or can we put an end to this mummer's farce? I grow weary of your face."

ha Ha, get it?? Wyman's putting on the mummer's farce.

+.+.+

What does Stannis offer you? Vengeance. Vengeance for my sons and yours, for your husbands and your fathers and your brothers. Vengeance for your murdered lord, your murdered king, your butchered princes. Vengeance!"

"Yes," piped a girl's voice, thin and high.

It belonged to the half-grown child with the blond eyebrows and the long green braid. "They killed Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn and King Robb," she said. "He was our king! He was brave and good, and the Freys murdered him. If Lord Stannis will avenge him, we should join Lord Stannis."

He didn't use the word justice, so we're in the clear.

the fat man was so wroth that he took a vow to live on bread and wine till he had his vengeance. - Davos I, ADWD

Nicely done, Davos.

+.+.+

"We heard what you said," said the older girl, her sister. "A child's foolishness. Speak no ill of our friends of Frey. One of them will be your lord and husband soon."

"No," the girl declared, shaking her head. "I won't. I won't ever. They killed the king."

She called it. She's betrothed to Little Walder, and he won't be around much longer.

Do you like this dynamic? Older sister, heir to White Harbor, remarkably composed while being in on the scheme. Younger sister, more willful and outspoken in the face of injustice.

Tell me if that reminds you of anything.

+.+.+

"Hush, child," said Lady Leona. "You heard your lord grandfather. Hush! You know nothing."

"I know about the promise," insisted the girl. "Maester Theomore, tell them! A thousand years before the Conquest, a promise was made, and oaths were sworn in the Wolf's Den before the old gods and the new. When we were sore beset and friendless, hounded from our homes and in peril of our lives, the wolves took us in and nourished us and protected us against our enemies. The city is built upon the land they gave us. In return we swore that we should always be their men. Stark men!"

The maester fingered the chain about his neck. "Solemn oaths were sworn to the Starks of Winterfell, aye. But Winterfell has fallen and House Stark has been extinguished."

"That's because they killed them all!"

Another Frey spoke up. "Lord Wyman, if I may?"

Wyman Manderly gave him a nod. "Rhaegar. We are always pleased to hear your noble counsel."

You know nothing (Jon Snow) -> Promise (me, Ned) -> Rhaegar (Targaryen).

Funny author.

What does it say about George when he creates another character named Rhaegar, and gives him the most undignified death possible?

Anyway, me @ Wylla:

+.+.+

"Lady Wylla," he said to the girl with the green braid, "loyalty is a virtue. I hope you will be as loyal to Little Walder when you are joined in wedlock. As to the Starks, that House is extinguished only in the male line. Lord Eddard's sons are dead, but his daughters live, and the younger girl is coming north to wed brave Ramsay Bolton."

There ya go. All you need is a Stark daughter to hold Winterfell.

+.+.+

"He won't ever be my lord! He made Lady Hornwood marry him, then shut her in a dungeon and made her eat her fingers."

A murmur of assent swept the Merman's Court. "The maid tells it true," declared a stocky man in white and purple, whose cloak was fastened with a pair of crossed bronze keys. "Roose Bolton's cold and cunning, aye, but a man can deal with Roose. We've all known worse. But this bastard son of his … they say he's mad and cruel, a monster."

An unnamed member of House Locke. Brave man.

Lord Ondrew Locke appears to be close with Wyman Manderly, so I feel comfortable labelling House Locke as Team Stark.

+.+.+

"They say?" Rhaegar Frey sported a silky beard and a sardonic smile. "His enemies say, aye … but it was the Young Wolf who was the monster. More beast than boy, that one, puffed up with pride and bloodlust. And he was faithless, as my lord grandfather learned to his sorrow." He spread his hands. "I do not fault White Harbor for supporting him. My grandsire made the same grievous mistake. In all the Young Wolf's battles, White Harbor and the Twins fought side by side beneath his banners. Robb Stark betrayed us all. He abandoned the north to the cruel mercies of the ironmen to carve out a fairer kingdom for himself along the Trident. Then he abandoned the riverlords who had risked much and more for him, breaking his marriage pact with my grandfather to wed the first western wench who caught his eye. The Young Wolf? He was a vile dog and died like one."

The Merman's Court had grown still. Davos could feel the chill in the air. Lord Wyman was looking down at Rhaegar as if he were a roach in need of a hard heel … yet then, abruptly, he gave a ponderous nod that set his chins to wobbling. "A dog, aye. He brought us only grief and death. A vile dog indeed. Say on."

This time the truth came before the ellipsis.

It will still be known as the ellipsis of truth.

+.+.+

"Wylla has always been a willful child," her sister said, by way of apology. "I fear that she will make a willful wife."

Rhaegar shrugged. "Marriage will soften her, I have no doubt. A firm hand and a quiet word."

Oof.

Imagine feeling comfortable enough to say that in front of her grandfather.

+.+.+

"You are still a smuggler, ser, come to steal my gold and blood. You would take my son's head. I think I shall take yours instead. Guards! Seize this man!"

Before Davos could even think to move, he was surrounded by silver tridents. "My lord," he said, "I am an envoy."

"Are you? You came sneaking into my city like a smuggler. I say you are no lord, no knight, no envoy, only a thief and a spy, a peddler of lies and treasons. I should tear your tongue out with hot pincers and deliver you to the Dreadfort to be flayed. But the Mother is merciful, and so am I." He beckoned to Ser Marlon. "Cousin, take this creature to the Wolf's Den and cut off his head and hands. I want them brought to me before I sup. I shall not be able to eat a bite until I see this smuggler's head upon a spike, with an onion shoved between his lying teeth."

See, this is why kings aren't envoys. This is why you don't send kings to treat with their enemies. That would be stupid.

I shall not be able to eat a bite until I see this smuggler's head upon a spike, with an onion shoved between his lying teeth.

Lol.

"Aye," Lord Godric said, "and the fat man was so wroth that he took a vow to live on bread and wine till he had his vengeance. But before the day was out, he was stuffing clams and cakes into his mouth again. - Davos I, ADWD

Final thoughts:

I'm sorry, I'm not going to pretend to be impartial when it comes to Wyman Manderly.

Let the chef cook.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #davos iii

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professional-benaddict · 8 months

Text

Vision

a drabble by saturn anon🪐

"words, without action, is just sayings. you cannot vision it. it was just told to you."

words without action is just sayings. you cannot vision it. all of our main characters have that in common. they have no vision, over the words they hear and say. just think of this as someone who apologises to you, and does no action. it doesn't give any justification doesn't it? it's meaningless without action.

"mr. parker, you seem to have describe yourself with such negative connotations. have you ever thought about yourself of the opposite of what you describe yourself as?" mr. stark asks his student, peter parker, he may not be a former doctor as his co-worker mr. strange, but he sure can do his best and help someone in the best way they can. hearing those words slip from his own mouth, tony stark gave himself a re-evaluation on himself. why? he saw himself in peter.

not only tony saw himself in peter, but so did stephen, stephen strange. stephen thought about who he was before, a ego driven man with the moral code of trying to be perfect. his license as a professional doctor was revoked, due to his ego. trying to make his patients and himself perfect, wanting his patients to be fine the moment he thinks that they are fine. but no, someone can't just be alright in your eyes, perhaps to some, they aren't and need help.

stephen had doubts whether helping peter on his own was right. he didn't want to be that egotistic man he knew himself before who's a artist of drawing conclusions. hence why he had to come to someone he knew about the boy, someone whom peter also trusts. which is his friend and co-worker, tony stark. back to stephen, he didn't doubt himself that the boy needed help, it is vivid to him, the signs are vivid, the guts of his were right, the sign was there, what else is to question?

tony, had some issues within himself. he doubts himself, just like peter and stephen do to themselves. but the thing is, he is and was always known for perfection. if his friend and co-worker strives to be perfect, tony's the one that's known to be perfect. is he though? no, no one's perfect. then why was he known for in that sense?

being born and part of a famous and privileged bloodline is something that could either be a blessing or a curse. for tony, it wasn't a perfect balance of both, but it's both. it is mainly a curse for him. a blessing in some cases.

you're known! the moment you're born, you're known! to the world. everyone else knows about you before you get to know yourself. you're driven to carry all the burdens and the legacies of ones related to you by blood.

it drove tony crazy, it itches his whole body and soul remembering who he was before. both him and stephen were always spitted at with words, and just words. words that are venomous, words that do not justify its meaning. words that are entirely nonsense the moment you hear it, words that drove their ego and nearly got themselves into the deepest parts of their darkest cores.

"no. i cannot see myself as the opposite of what i describe myself as. it's hard..." peter looks down on the floor whilst sitting in stephen's chair in the professor's lounge. to their luck, it is and was just the three of them.

"do know that as i say these words to you, i genuinely mean them, peter." tony says, as he holds both of peter's shoulders. looking into the boy's eyes, he senses and felt a boy that needed to know himself better than anyone else does. "i am not saying this because i know you so well and that we see each other at campus day by day. however, i am saying this, as your creativity, intelligence, shines over you. you have nothing to prove to us that you aren't worthy. you are valuable and important, the moment you see it in yourself, is the moment you'll set yourself free. free from the word of chains that held yourself in one position. you are free to change, to evolve, to improve, and to move."

all of them are astonished with the words they all heard. it is true, you aren't supposed to be held in one position, unlock the chains that held you and forbid you to explore the depths of yourself and the world. open your eyes to see what you can do for you, and for the world you live in. vision those words you say by action and not by the tongue. you can have a grasp of what someone may say, but what is the point if there isn't anything done? it's just noise the moment someone opens their mouth and does no action.

peter wipes off his tears and sniffles. "and i feel like a newborn. opening his eyes for the first time, being welcomed by those who molded me into who i am, now."

———

all credit to the wonderful saturn anon🪐💗

i totally see myself in all of them there🥺🥺 fulfilling expectations and trying to find yourself is not an easy task

#saturn anon #starkerstrange #starker #strangespider #spiderstrange #ironstrange #tony stark x stephen strange #peter parker x stephen strange #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark #peter parker #stephen strange

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tasha269 · 2 years

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Loki and Y/N hate each other... Or that's what they think. But what happens when Y/N is injured during a mission with the Avengers and Loki? What happens when Loki finally confesses that he doesn't actually hate Y/N but is worried about her feelings?

"We're going on a mission?" Y/N asked, walking into the common room.

"Yeah, in around fifteen minutes. You should suit up." Steve stated.

"Right. Anyone coming that I should know of?" Y/N questioned.

"Just me, Darling." Loki smirked, joking.

"Oh, well that's bloody amazing. I'm going to go insane." Y/N rolled her eyes, escaping into her bedroom to change into her outfit.As said, the Avengers and Loki all got into the plane to head to wherever their mission would be. Apparently it was a sort of Hydra issue, but minus the Supersoldiers.

They soon arrived to the building, meeting up in the plane to go over teams and plans. A simple thing most of them were quite use to.

"Right everyone. We're going to do today in pairs due to the numbers and how far we need to get around this place. Partner up when I say your partners, and then I want you to wait until I'm done so I can tell you which floors your covering." Steve explained. "Right, I'm going with Bucky. Tony, you're with Peter." Steve spoke.

"Mr Stark! We're partners!" Peter instantly spoke.

"I know kid, now shush while he explains the rest of the teams." Tony sighed.

"Next, Natasha, you're with Clint. Thor you're with Bruce. Wanda, you're with Vision. And finally, last team, Y/N you're with Loki." Steve explained.

"Right, so, Tony and Peter, I want you two to cover outside, make sure no one leaves or enters that isn't meant to. You might also be needed as backup." Steve explained. "Natasha and Clint, you're on the top floor. Thor and Bruce, 3rd floor. 2nd floor, Wanda and Vision. Loki and Y/N, your in the basement. Me and Bucky will be on the first floor. Any questions?" Steve asked.

"Me." Y/N said, raising her hand.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"Why do me and Loki have to work together?" Y/N asked.

"That's a good question, we hate each other. So why are we working together?" Loki asked.

"Because you two need to stop acting like children and work together. So you two will get down to the basement and work together. Don't kill each other." Steve stated.

Loki and Y/N seemed to be too busy to argue as they found that they were busy fighting agents for most of it.

However, hearing a sudden cry out in pain, Loki looked over at his partner.

Y/N was kneeled on the floor, holding her waist tightly. From what Loki could see, she had been stabbed tight through the waist.

Loki quickly dealt with the last few Agents before quickly rushing to her side.

"Crap, did you get stabbed?" Loki asked.

"Yeah... Yeah I think so." Y/N nodded.

"Okay, we're going to get you back to the plane in a moment, how deep is it? Can you tell?" Loki asked.

"No.. I don't think it's too deep. But it does hurt. Why do you care? You hate me and I hate you." Y/N stated.

"I don't hate you damn it." Loki rolled his eyes, grabbing a bandage from a nearby counter.

"You don't hate me?" Y/N questioned as Loki was slightly busy, wrapping the bandage tightly around her waist, putting pressure on the stab wound.

"Course not. It's quite impossible to hate you. But I know I won't break your heart if I say I hate you." Loki spoke, helping her up.

"What do you mean by break my heart?" Y/N asked.

"It means... I don't know how long until I will return to Asgard. I don't want you to be heartbroken if I have to leave suddenly." Loki stated.

"Yeah... Oh... That makes sense." Y/N spoke, her voice trailing off.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Loki asked, glancing at her. His eyes widened as she suddenly fell forwards. His reflexes were thankfully quite good as he caught the fainting body. "Well that's nice." He muttered, picking her up Bridal Style.

Loki pressed his com. "Heading out to the plane now. We finished our floor, Y/N got stabbed and she's currently unconcious but I'm 99% sure she's perfectly fine." Loki stated.

#fainting #loki laufeyson #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki god of mischief #the avengers #stabbed #injured #x y/n #y/n #loki odinson #loki x y/n #loki x you #Spotify

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lilolilyr · 2 years

Text

(readmore cuts off here btw)

Sources + some other versions of my moodboards for the Bering&Wells meets S.H.I.E.L.D AU, plus a bit of background info! Made for the AU day of beringandwellsappreciationweek, thanks for the idea @galactic-pirates ! :D

I like the above one best because it's just aesthetically pleasing idk xD but it cuts through the w14 image in a kind of weird way because I used the long 1×3 pic on purpose for that so... Didn't turn out to be my final selection bc of that, but it gets the place of honour here!

A bit about the AU:

Honestly, I don't have any clear cut thoughts on this, just many ideas that even contradict each other in parts... Which is why I probably won't write an actual fic for this, but if someone else feels inspired by my idea, feel free to adopt it for yourself!

>>> I'm leaning towards it being a merge instead of a crossover, so warehouse personell in a Marvel-y world, not characters from both worlds. They're still Warehouse Agents, they just have the helicarrier instead of Univille! Or perhaps both, the 'carrier as a mobile unit and the Warehouse to store the masses of artefacts?

If we're vaguely replacing SHIELD characters with Warehouse ones, I think Artie would be the leader (Coulson), Claudia of course the hacker (Skye), Mrs F is Fury... that's where it stops making sense to replace anyone directly

Both Myka and HG work but don't really work as the the pilot and fighter (May), Helena because of Slightly Unhinged vibes, Myka because she could be reluctant to go back in the field after Sam dies on her watch, so she'd have that in common with May... H.G. of course works better as a scientist, but from characteristics she doesn't have a lot in common with the SHIELD ones

>>> On the other hand, a X-over would also be fun!

For starters, Mrs F and Fury and the Regents and the WSC just clashing adsfghjkl

Pete and Tony Stark either getting on great or absolutely despising each other!

Oh, and if we're rly making it Marvel/MCU with all the Avengers characters, Nat and Myka could exchange fighting tips, Clint would steal Helena's grappler to improve an arrow design...

Skye and Claudia would definitely take over the world via computer!

HG could meet Captain America, and bemoan the way they are lost in time together!

>>> Though that brings me to the question: are the Warehouse characters identical to canon, or do their backstories change? I don't want to take Helena's backstory away entirely, she wouldn't be herself if she was just a modern sci-fi woman without the jump forward in time. But maybe she is the equivalent of Captain America in this merge?

Also, I can't decide whether SHIELD should actually exist in some way, or just be replaced by the Warehouse... In canon, it more or less belongs to the FBI, so in this AU the Warehouse could be an even more secret division of the already super secret S.H.I.E.L.D. agency xD

>>> The helicarrier is also definitely problematic (not going into how MCU is problematic in so many ways anyway, bc then we'd still be here tomorrow lol), and I can see the Warehouse regents misusing that power, and that leading to conflict...

More moodboard variants:

This one I also like, kind of more grunge, dark aesthetic... Looks less techy and more like a steampunk-y sci-fi world still in the dangers of an invasion imo

Also I hadn't turned Myka's image yet, and while the original with Maria Hill looks fine as is, somehow the manip just looks weird without tilting her more upright

Aaand a long one:

Image sources:

Myka

Helena

Myka's body (Maria Hill) & background

Helena's background

W13 font

Helicarrier background image

Helicarrier

Warehouse shelves

Warehouse

Warehouse logo

All edits by me :)

If you also want to use SHIELD!Myka and Helena on the Helicarrier, here are the full pics, just credit me/this post if you use them!

I'm pretty sure I still don't have a W13 tag list? On the other hand I actually have a Bering and Wells sideblog @hgwellsmykabering , so if you follow that one you'll probably get all my content anyway :D if someone still wants to get tagged when I post new W13 things, just let me know!

#my post #beringandwellsappreciationweek #my w13 #bering and wells #warehouse 13 #marvel #warehouse 13 crossover #marvel fusion #my marvel #my agents of shield #mine #lilo makes moodboards #w13 moodboard #bering and wells appreciation week #Bering and wells moodboard #marvel moodboard #lilo edits #lilo creates #galactic-pirates

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blankdblank · 1 year

Text

Poke Pt 5 - Big Red Button

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle

Poke Masterlist

...

“Hello, Pluto.” Tony said on the other side of the gate for the school outside the car Happy had running and waved from inside. “Wondered if you might be up for a lift. Looks like rain.”

“I take it this is your way of keeping me from being ambushed in another park,” you joked making him smirk and turn to open the door behind him you walked towards.

“One way to go about it, certainly.” He said following you inside the car. Luring Peter’s attention from his classroom inside, seeing his mentor here and not for him causing the teen to palm his phone he’d keep hold of in hopes of gaining first view of a message to come in.

Beside you on the bench seat Tony settled and Happy pulled off the curb. “Bit surprised there wasn’t a piece on the park in the Bugle. Veggie rodents, not what I was expecting.”

Smirking at him you said, “You can say what you mean, I won’t quote you on it.”

“You have a substantial press following. Four years you can trail it back like bread crumbs to see what you were up to. I had a team, to manage my press, I know you call him your brother, but even family should have a limit.”

“When the Goliath was stolen Rhodey gave a lovely speech to the press,”

“That is different-,” he tried to say but his voice trailed off as your smirk grew a bit.

“Eddie pays me a look out fee for scoops, 20%. When something happens, it’s all how it’s worded to the public. Pierce tried to gas me and drag me off the street four years ago. I could have chosen any name I wanted, I chose to use my name. Go to school, let the military release my name linked to the Blackhowls, my name on social pages, my hobby videos I post, and when I dance. You vanished, and everyone noticed.”

His lips parted, “This is how you stayed here so long, everyone at the paper, whole military, SHIELD.”

“This is my face, my life, and my name. Eddie found me stuck in a trap someone laid for Misique took me home, patched me up. I hear things, some people tend to not pay me much notice. I thought he was a weird drunk next door with a sleep disorder, but he just likes to pace and verbalize his drafts on a weird sleep schedule. A really great guy, who could have set up some sinister social stalking bond with a kid like me who is a magnet for chaos.”

“You do tend to be in the eye of the storm, don’t you? We can get you security, you know.”

“I think it’d be a bit more detrimental to them at this rate,” you said making him chuckle to himself.

“After your surgery we took a few drives around your block, I couldn’t go five buildings without twenty heads poked out the windows to watch.”

“Same as in Brooklyn, immigrants do look after one another, and a kid working four jobs gains a bit of a fair reputation, even from most criminals with some common sense.”

“We got your designs of the jets underway to the final inner details and are photographing this weekend for press. Upping the price as well, respectfully but it will increase interest.”

“All your business details, Mr Stark.”

“It’s your business too, you get half the profits.” Over your face his eyes scanned taking in the simple linger of your eyes on his, wondering what he was thinking up. “Any plans for a Pear Industries one day?”

“So far I just make and sell keychain pendants out of gemstones and metal I print for something to churn out for profit. Been saving funds since the contract change to have full payment for next semester. I wouldn’t feel right applying for more scholarships.”

“Well I’ll take fifty,” he said making you roll your eyes widening his grin.

“Industry normally implies more than one person or an actual store front or home base or something.”

“All the same, I would think up a name and trademark it now. Jump in especially if it’s a good one.” Pointing a finger at you he teased, “Toss your brother another headline or two in the process. What’s the site called?”

“Pluto Skapa Níu,” you said making his brows inch up, “Níu in Ancient Norse is nine, and Skapa is to create, or make.”

“Pluto Makes Nine, great way to work the name in. Dad tried forever to come up with a slogan for our company that wasn’t ‘Stark Comparison’ then he gave me this look when I said I’d change my name if he went with that.” He said making you chuckle to yourself. “Sorry, you said you print the stones?” he asked and you nodded.

“Stones are mostly metal, my metal printer can also create varying levels of earth and stone as well.”

“So,” he said then gestured to your hand with the moonstone ring on it, “I heard you bought that ring.”

“Not moonstones, or pearls, they have special properties. My ring helps with warding off bad dreams. Some things might be superstitious, but I bought the first one second hand and I thought it would be nice to buy a new one. Other stones are easy to lure effects to them upon creation. Most recent supply is jade actually, and they seem to be taking off. Ladies at the nail salon love them, told their families about them and bought a whole sack full to mail home.”

“See, now that is why dad said it was best you were competition, if anyone had a silver spoon growing up it was me. Fourteen at MIT trying to prove that even without the Stark name or blood I could do it. I don’t know how he did it, made it seem so easy in his early twenties to build his empire.”

“Grown man good at making things go boom with war on the horizon.” You said making him smirk. “That question will forever linger. Probably why he didn’t get to branch out in much more than movie production outside of war goods as that was the backbone of it. You inherited that, I inherited degenerative disease work.”

“Nature vs nurture in action,” he joked. “I would say it would be interesting to see how we both move forward from this point for our companies. Already looking into a place up north to at least move the Avengers out of the city if we need to. Press is a bit wishy washy on that topic. What do you think?”

“I think fate guides us either knowingly or otherwise. Choices are lessons from real estate to the snacks we pick throughout our day. I suppose with a jet you could always respond fairly quickly, the press would certainly have to work harder to watch over your shoulders. Up to you which wins, privacy or response time.”

“I think the space might be good, Capcicle has been stocking up on the art books and we got him a good tutor like I know you told him years ago and Barnes said it once over breakfast. Just casual and blunt to get a tutor to do what you said. I take it you told him about your talks with Steve.”

“We talked about a great deal of things from the past four years. I told him what I noticed about what could be under his behavior. When you lose something so massive, you need to bring new life into your life, hobbies or pets or even friends and passions. I don’t relish seeing people in pain, even if they have hurt me. And for some reason I need two feet and a hundred pounds to gain before he’d take my advice.”

“Highly doubt it’s the size issue.”

“I don’t know, he’d take Sam Wilson’s word before mine too, haven’t seen him much with Clint but I wouldn’t put it past him,” you said making Tony chuckle.

“I’m sure if you were to knock him around a bit he’d come around, how Nat won him over.”

Softly you giggled, “Cooper and Bucky are one thing, whole different strain of the Super Serum and they’ve had second doses. Icing people makes it volatile on occasion. He starts growing skin tag growths on his neck he’s got to be given another dose or his heart will give out.”

That had Tony’s lips part. “Holy, Misique told you the signs?”

“I had to give Cooper chest compressions until he could be retrieved for his dose when I was twelve. Bucky was happy to let me scan him since they had him iced for so long.”

“You, really have a vast pool to dig from,” he said and drew in a breath to say, “Got to be like a can of worms, you mention one thing and people keep wanting to dig for more as some try to wiggle out on their own. Man if people spent a week in your past there would be a lot less complaining in the world.”

“If people spent a week in my past there would be a great deal less people.”

“Your own purge, I get that, a lot of people make the world less safe than when they get here.” His phone cut off the conversation enabling Happy to jump in and cause the billionaire to look between you both when he could hearing about your speech troubles. Though advice was hard to give as you arrived and were let out to keep on schedule. The slight addition of wait time did however enable you to blow a bit more of your pocket money to get a nice warm cider to sip on prior to your first exam.

…

Five foot tall at your side Eldfalls sat inside the chopper that flew you to the same base. Through which he hovered at your side on the walk through while the officer in charge filled you in to how things had been readied to streamline this process. Formerly just a weekend project for you the spare three evenings during the week could hasten the hold they could get on these coveted machines pilots were near to fist fights to be assigned to just like with the prior four. Smooth as ever your team was there, and excited to meet Eldfalls who they’d heard so much about, to get the ball rolling. Though that crater in Asia seemed to lessen the usual stream of heads and bodies who tried steal looks at the new pair to your gradually growing fleet.

Bodies were smoothed already and right up onto a wing when you had put your bag in its usual cubby and pulled on a coverall suit you tied the top half at your waist. To help guard the skin in the open cuts on your worn jeans and tucked into the tops of your boots to not let them hang too low and cause you to trip. Hair braided and tied back and neckline of your t shirt adjusted you sat down to start removing the cover to the right wing behind the propeller to start the conversation of that crucial part. Eldfalls all around the shells hovered to take in the mortal travel vessel even he could tell was saved from ruin by your efforts.

Comfort by lunch however did have the usual officers who came to escort you to the on base diner did have a couple heads poke in then right back out. Echoes of your voice and that of your dragon had calmed a good deal of worries as you went through the steps as second knowledge not flinching or hesitating.

A second visit by new faces however had those worries creep back as the group followed the voice speaking in an unknown language. Loki alongside Rhodey, Bucky, Steve and Sam had arrived half an hour to sunset. The latter stood in awe at the one handed lower of an engine chunk from the wing onto a platform held by a chain pulley three of the team slid an inch and gradually lowered it down to the waiting dolly below to move it aside for reuse later.

Loki however to the side eyed both your stained self and the dragon who spoke to you again in Old Asgardian correcting the sentence you had just stated. And as you reached into the wing to start removing the final mount brackets the Prince spoke to you in the same tongue responding to the statement you had spoken again. “What?” right to him your eyes drifted while Bucky came closer to one handedly give the stuck dolly a nudge for the crew straining at the weight of such a hefty piece.

“Were you not commenting upon the vastness of our empire?” the Prince asked, now smirking slightly as you tossed a mount into a bucket at the base of the ladder you were straddling to sit upon.

“Oh, practicing conversational Old Asgardian actually. My last trip to Vanaheim I had asked Hogun for a book on Asgardian but he gave me one, in, Old Asgardian,” you said making him chuckle to himself. “I have some friends who have been helping me to translate the book and make a sort of translation guide so I can learn the language. Eldfalls has been helping me with speaking it.”

“Thus feeding my next question, where, pray tell, on Odin’s green earth did you find this ship?” He asked now looking at the dragon who greeted him fondly.

“Bottom of the ocean actually. Misique helped to drag it ashore,” off your hair a couple of bees flew down to project images of how he used to look. “Didn’t even know he could turn into a dragon until we managed to get the wings and hull back whole again.”

“And you have flown this craft, I have seen this.”

“Couple times. Happened to hear a distress call last time, though still feeling controls out, still haven’t even found the hull hatch yet. Eldfalls loves being mum on his secrets.” You said with a giggle removing the final part to be able to swing your leg over and climb back down and wipe your hands on a rag there on the rolling stand you settled the tools you had in hand onto first.

Sam said pointing at the plane, “Now this is gorgeous, and you made these, you let Steve or the team fly them yet?”

Steve said, “I’m not a pilot.”

Sam said, “But you said you flew a plane once in the war.”

You answered for him, “He crashed a plane once, into the Arctic to stop a bomb.”

“Oh,” Sam said then looked at his friend, “Why didn’t you bail out?”

“There was no way to do that,” he said and you let out a giggle and turned to fold the ladder and carry it to the nose of the plane. “There was no way to do that, it was on autopilot to New York I had to disengage that to stop it.”

Rhodey said next, “I’ve seen the schematics for that craft, there’s this big button, right in the middle of the far right console that drops the engines off. It’d be a belly slide at worst but you’d have had time to skid down and run for it.”

“None of you were there, big red button or no button, I had to crash the plane.”

Steve said defensively making Bucky pat him on the back to Rhodey saying, “So you admit you saw the button.” They moved with you to the nose to accept the heavy cover you removed and lowered down to him with a hand he added to the tarped area you told Bucky of below.

Loki moved back to your view and asked, “I have been informed you have been, not just to Vanir twice, but Svartalfheim as well. How was that travel obtained whilst the Rainbow Bridge was broken?”

“First time, not entirely certain, we were walking down the street and there were anomalies of physics.” You said and he gave an encouraging nod, “A poster tore off a wall and hit a car causing it to lift up and rotate in a magnetic vortex field is the closest I could assume. Yet we just stepped back away from the car and we fell through an unseen portal into, well it wasn’t sand, but the sand-like surface of Svartalfheim. Found this fortress of a building and spent some time there. We found Jane on the way there and she had something inside her.”

“The aether,” Loki named the living sludge for you. “Rather dangerous substance, I was told it was sealed within a cylinder upon delivery to Vanir.”

“We found the Med Bay, and there was this crystal bed with mist displays of the body beneath it and hovering glass panels. We went through several pages of languages until we found one like Wingdings, it is a font where they have symbols for each letter.” You said gaining another nod from him in gratitude for the explanation, “Venom helped us to sort of guess the meanings of the options off the images and to find some food. Which, the food they have, is beyond disgusting to inspect for possibility of being edible, but some of it was tolerable.” You said making him chuckle.

“Some cultures have no defined palate.” He answered playfully.

“We did find a jar of earth salt there, so they had stolen or found or bartered for it somehow sometime. Anyways, after the aether was in the cylinder,” you paused and his brow inched up at the slight adjustment of the tool in the hand rested upon your lap.

“Yes?”

“When we were looking for food I heard the transporter.”

“You heard it?” the Prince asked.

“Like an automated voice when you come close?” Rhodey asked having turned his full attention to you.

“No, it’s sort of complicated.”

“I would say so most transporters have no audio functions.” Loki replied.

“I heard a root of Yggdrasil through it,” you said and the Prince’s mouth opened slightly.

Looking to Rhodey Bucky explained, “Yggdrasil is the great tree that connects the realms. Doesn’t talk to people usually.”

“It was just a platform with dangling crystals and eight hovering orbs, which had they been in order we would have been sent back here, but we landed in the middle of a field on Vanaheim and Eldfalls came to get us from there.”

Rhodey muttered to himself, “First that Misphisto guy and now magical trees.”

“And you chose to leave Jane Foster there for medical attention as you felt mortal capabilities lacking?” Loki asked.

“No, I just, put her down to try and talk to Hogun, but then a root picked us up to land on Eldfalls’ deck when he arrived and she was still on the ground. Though that seems now like a much better explanation that we left her there for better medical care,” you said making him chuckle ad Bucky in amusement look between you.

His eyes again moved from Eldfalls, who was now hovering to inspect the open wing, to the ship. “This seems a peculiar undertaking. This shell is quite old.”

“What I do. Take older war bird bodies and turn them into kinetic powered flying machines. Bullet and bomb proof, impenetrable for electrical pulses or certain radio waves to override the systems. They have some of my finished ones if you’d want to tour them.”

Sam said, “Oh I am so down for that, can I go?”

Rhodey smirked and nodded his head to the side. “Be back in a bit, Pluto.” Eyeing the Prince who remained still, peering up at you mid reach to have your bees scan the nose components to help you find what you were after before his inevitable step away to see the final product.

“This is quite sublime,” Loki said making the Pilots and Rhodey grin hearing it as he entered the belly, having just examined the outside of the refurbished war bird. “And this is common, Stark’s jet is quite beneath the skill level of this.”

Bucky said, “Well that’s a combat jet, there’s a sort of understanding, what I can tell, these aren’t war birds anymore.”

One of the Pilots said, “Mainly run supplies and transport, the first two are armed but we don’t see the need to arm the whole fleet. Our older Stark fleet are just fine for that.”

“Compared to Asgard, how does this rank up?” Steve asked and the Prince ticked his head to the side a moment.

“This is far from poorly, I would aim to guess this is closer to a Jotun glider engine. The hum is the same pitch. Vastly different bodies, though no less incomparable in skill. Where do you store the others?”

“Pluto is the only one who can make them,” Rhodey said.

And the Pilot chuckled, “Well, only one without causing an implosion. Giant crater in Asia from the last crew who tried.”

“This is the Shieldmaiden’s fleet then, impressive to have such a fleet at one’s discretion.”

Steve said, “No, she sold these to the US Government. For a pretty penny too.”

Bucky said, “Scandinavia did buy use of designs of hers for cleaner commercial aircraft and Stark for smaller private jets for teams and private owners. So that engine is from space?”

“I would imagine a great deal many notions have been shared with one so open to listen through Yggdrasil. Our best minds were found in contact with the great tree. Quite unrivaled.”

Bucky said with a grin, “Least it’ll help pay her way into a nice home. Been helping to show her house styles to pick what she and her brother like. He wants one too nearby to where she picks.”

Steve asked, “She’s buying him a house too?”

“Nah, he’s gonna pay off his place now and buy his own house after.” Bucky said as they filed out of the Blackhowl and went to head back to the hangar where you were cleaned up and out of your coverall.

A second meal at the diner enabled him to dig more into which book you had been given and how many tales you had translated already. Helped along more by the fact you had the book he came close to clasping to his chest at such a coveted piece of home when it was offered to him for inspection.

“You can borrow it, I’ve scanned the whole thing and sent my friends copies when I first got it to help with translations.”

“Thank you, I shall return it in pristine condition.” He said then wet his lips to break their pursed position they found in his confusion. “What friends are aiding in the translations?”

“I met some self exiled Beserkers, turns out two of them I knew as a child, go figure, they wanted to help my parents. But um, we met not long after I moved here and bonded over my necklace. That one has been collecting pieces they find in shops and whatnot.”

“They can be rather dangerous,” he said and asked, “My father assured us no Asgardians were left on Midgard.”

“Well, stragglers might encourage more desertion from loyalty. Exile is exile better to not let others know people have survived.”

“I would imagine that might be a possible choice Father would entertain. They are amiable?”

“Stone masons, crafters, a few have worked on sailcloth before they helped me to water and windproof my sail for Eldfalls. Just have to add the grommets and ringlets to hook it to the supporting beams.”

“Might I make myself of use within that project? The very least I might aid in lessons for mastering the controls.”

“Well you’re welcome to drop by when you please, Eldfalls at least enjoys the company of those who can speak to him fully.” You said with a grin causing his brows to tighten playfully at the final addition.

“You are ultimately prized, truly, he speaks of you quite endlessly. Tale through father stated not even uncle could gain such favor from his ship at the time. I would imagine the lack of a shared language and discovery of his inner workings solidified such admiration and loyalty.” He said then added after a pause, “Then perhaps I might, upon greater capacity of such time of companionship cross paths with this Misique. To thank her properly.”

“Misique doesn’t require thanks,” triggering the corner of his brow to twitch upwards, “From you or anyone else. Action for the sake of action not in reward, as my mother used to say.”

Bucky said with a chuckle, “My Ma was the same way. Pops just used to back that up by saying, ‘Do as she says boy, or I will pop you into next week’, then the skillet would always go flying,” he said with another chuckle, “Still can’t wait to see that sail you made. When’s the big bash to show it off?”

“After graduation to kick the summer off.”

“There is celebration to present the sail?” Loki asked with a slight eagerness to his tone.

“Yes, in Norway at the museum that has an exhibit on Eldfalls and the few chains and weapons we found inside of a few hidden hatches and a broken spear in the hull. And some teeth from the beast that Vili faced off with and downed Eldfalls I pulled from the opening in the hull. It’s actually been quite helpful to tourism to have the full following of videos I’ve sent of repairs. More money has been put into research on more artifacts and preservation for old forests that could be housing more relics yet to be found. Partly why I think they were open to the new aircraft design I let them use. To accommodate more travelers, Thor’s first sighting in New Mexico did spike interest a bit, but this has lasted much longer.”

“I could imagine more insight was gained throughout the process,” he asked then after a glance at his cup of tea he asked, “Would the invitation list be quite exclusive?”

“Oh, I could contact my grandfather, he has a more direct line of contact with the King and Queen of Norway who are hosting. I am certain they would extend invitations to yourself and Thor.” Luring a grin across his lips, “Quite an addition to the press alone, nephews of former King Vili himself there for the big unveiling, and perhaps if you are there I might not have to give a speech.” You said chuckling to yourself and turning focus back to your food as the guys chuckled.

Home alone while watching satellite footage of military vehicles nearing New York you called your grandfather to share the news that would ignite curiosity and excitement of being able to have the Asgardian Princes come to the grand unveiling. Sure as you said, the press lit up at wonder for how this would unfold and interest shot through the roof. No one could have expected them to return so soon or in time for this, but just in case there were back up plans made in case they did end up zapping away off planet like they had in the past.

By morning however familiar faces of soldiers from the Orca box search had found their ways back into your usual paths and onto the base where you were working to setup guard stations again, but this time laxer yet no less annoying.

Several days had passed before the Prince could come by again, due to both distraction from detailing the book he borrowed and the hours spent watching every video posted on the rebuild alongside more scrapped and taped up plans for Thanos had kept him away.

Just leaving you with dinners around gym trips with Bucky, who was pouring himself into this house hunting project to even out his heavy therapy sessions while he adjusted to his new life he would build.

Large stack of drop cloth in hand you turned to the curious Prince while Elliot and another Beserker carried the trunk housing the new sail. The exiled Beserkers here for this who had greeted the Prince formally greatly warmed him into their company. They set the trunk down across the arms of a lawn chair; each of them seeing the curiosity in his gaze at the simple cloth, “It’s a drop cloth.” That had his eyes lift to land on you. “I wouldn’t insult you with invitation to see a simple white sailcloth.”

In amusement he chuckled and helped you to lay out the cloth so the others could open the trunk and really have his jaw drop at the design which over the next three hours of this task he could detail and help the instillation of grommets and ringlets. His magic made ease of the task to hover the sail that could be worked into the supporting arms of the mast then locked in place with the final lock of the hidden rings where the ringlets could slide into the groove.

All around the ship flames danced to Eldfalls’ glee. Silence in this moment of relief and awe Loki had broken by asking you in a joking tone, “Just how have you been managing to get into the hull again?”

“There is an opening around the mast.” Up at him you smirked, “The hull switch is somewhere obvious, right?”

Breathily he chuckled and turned to the dragon head of the ship, right along the curve inside the inner wall of the ship was a hidden panel he gestured to making you grin and lift a hand he respectfully used his fingertips to adjust to the right spot. Flat on the metal wall your hand pressed and his smile spread to the sigh you gave when a split of metal announced the secretive hatch right behind you.

“Now, we can see the true craftsmanship,” and down the steps the doors to the hatch made he led the way, igniting a palm with green flames to light the way to the now patched section of hull. “And you have done well with this mesh. Novice craftsmen upon restorations often forget the new layers require the level adhere to. Myself upon my first crash I was to restore the damage done and nearly sank my ship anew had my teacher not warned me of this mistake.”

“I don’t know how to get the burn stains off the metal though. Tried scrubbing it a few times to no luck.”

“Truly these are not burns,” he said and your eyes snapped up to his as he turned to look at you. “This, is his fire lung. Had there been no burns he would not live.” A fact that would have you apologize later to the far from bothered ship who knew your intentions during the act were to help him and had helped to scrape some sea salt out of some rather uncomfortable spots it had been stuck in for centuries.

The eye contact broke as Eddie’s head came into view of the hatch, “Got the bus ready if you’re up for another test of the controls.” Nodding his head the Prince gestured to let you up first and when the hatch sealed watched you and Eddie lower the mast, in turn folding the sail together to keep it hidden.

“Now you have basic mastery of the steering,” Loki stated, having seen you power the engine to cast off the shore and get out a fair ways into the ocean. “Found anything else?”

“I know this curved spot here controls the levitation beam feature.” Widely the Prince had taken to smiling as in a smooth lesson of sailing he greatly explained more hidden controls and tricks until Thor behind Mjolnir soared up to grab his brother rather rudely without so much as a hello and soar off to fulfill some unshared promise of their attending something that night with the team. An act that had the group of Beserkers chuckle and help you to do a few more maneuvers to make the most of the time you had on the water before taking him back in.

“Would you-,” Mrs Stacy said in her rise up to leave her newest son in your arms so she could head to the bathroom.

Lost in a means not to cry the swaddled infant peered up at you mid broken crackle of a squeal as you just stared back at the pudgy pug like face all their boys seemed to have been born with by their older pictures. Eddie at your side adjusted his arm from his lap to smooth across your back to Captain Stacy’s continued rant. “And then some Sergeant came in and tried to have me pushed out of my own office! I’m a Captain, I outrank him! Even if they try to say the two don’t equate as I didn’t achieve that out of the military. I get it, but still, and they won’t tell us what’s going on!”

“Dad,” Gwen said coming out of the kitchen with a tray of drinks in hand, “They’ll probably say something eventually.”

“Or they’ll just try to put us into Marshall Law again like with the Titans.” He snapped back continuing to pace as he stole a glance your way seeing the stroke of a curled finger against his son’s cheek that tugged a hint of a grin across his lips to the sound the boy made from it.

They didn’t know what it meant, to be so trusted with a child knowing your same hands had killed a hundred at least. True you hadn’t ever hurt anyone under the age of schooling, but all the same you knew had they known this you would be the last person they would ever allow to be within a mile of any of their children. And in holding this boy deep in your chest you had to plan a time later to deal with the sensation of what it might have been for your own mother to have finally held you in her arms.

“What I know is they’re aiming to block up the city again with some plan the Avengers are cooking up.” You spoke up.

That had him pause and look your way again as what you said sank in, “Oh well that’s just lovely. Next thing we know half a block or hell, let’s throw in a bridge or two for them to topple in the process of what they’re up to. I am telling my guys, I don’t care what they say, they are not just taking control one day did not go well last time. Least now we’ll have a heads up and my guys can gripe it out before it happens.”

Mrs Stacy was soon back to claim her son whose telling whine had you and Eddie head out with a hug and goodbye for Gwen and her dad to let the mother and baby sleep after he had been fed again.

Down to the lobby you rode in the elevator. “They at least let you finish your work today before they sent you off the base?” Eddie asked not having been able to ask earlier at the promise to meet you here for this meeting.

“Well they had to, keep looking in like the whole city will blow if they don’t. Still doesn’t stop that one guy from staring while I’m in the diner. Seems like I turned legal and now I’m suddenly able to be hunted. Guys on my team have been keeping them away though. Don’t like it either.”

“Let us know if you need some knee capping done.” Venom hissed and Eddie nodded, continuing, “Certainly no secret that plan is being readied for. Kid let you in on any dates yet?”

“This month, is the best he could slip me. They keep bouncing back and forth on dates, something about a clear sky and they need some rod conductors from something most likely stupid.”

“Of course it’s going to be stupid, they still haven’t called in the big guns yet.” He said with a smirk at the doors opened and you stepped out.

Right to the street you walked to where he’d parked his bike, “Said he heard something about Selvig though.”

“They know where he is now?”

“Loki does,” Eddie nodded and smirked in offering you your helmet.

“Well then maybe me and Buddy should take a look around town. See if we can catch onto anything. Drop you someplace with food and let you know what we find out.” You added the helmet and he asked, “You okay, with the baby and all?”

“If they knew,” you said and he cut you off.

“Every baby I have you are watching and loving. I know, stingers and all, that’s how much I love you, how much I trust you. You’d let Buddy hold your babies wouldn’t you?” he asked and you giggled. “You know the goop monster is taking his fair share of time too.” Guiding you to settle onto the bike behind him to start the ride across town to the diner you frequented. Signs were everywhere that again the walls were going to start closing in.

Eddie had tried to be calm, but as Carnage was now surprisingly inside New York and working his way through Uptown there was a good number of buildings that had entirely shut down driving the elite elsewhere until the menace could be found.

Resounding silence in places like First through Fifth Avenue at certain parts of the day hinted to the effects. While those of the working classes seemed a fraction at ease that they seemed to be below the target list of income. Wall Street already was in the middle of being moved out to a newly purchased area of land in Arizona to keep their billions of imaginary dollars safe and brokers could work either at home or dare to head into the offices without a manager in sight to dictate their orders for the day beyond a morning virtual conference meeting. Even he was in town readying for what came next sensing it might just be too big for a tiny bee to scare away on her lonesome.

Pt 6

#Loki x oc #Escaped Child Assassin #Building Blackhowls #Eldfalls #Rhodey #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Loki #Eddie Brock #Venom #Gwen Stacy #Captain Stacy #Trouble is Coming #Carnage #Marvel #Tony Stark

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bisexualunicronrunningloose · 2 years

Text

Turtledove - Chapter 7

Ch.6

Y/N POV

The next day

You woke up the next morning. You sat up in bed and almost fell out of bed when a voice said “Good morning, Miss. y/l/n. Hope you had a good rest.” A strange voice said coming from… where was that voice coming from.

“Uhh… who’s there?” You questioned looking around for your knife… where was it?

“Apologies, I’m FRIDAY. Mr. Starks AI and home system. I assist him and the Avengers with their day to day lives and missions” FRIDAY replied

“Oh? Let me guess. James or Mr. Stark have already asked you to run a search on me?” You replied

“Yes they have” FRIDAY replied

“I wonder what you were able to find. What does it say after the explosion? I always wondered what was mentioned after that night” you asked

“I was unable to find much of reliable information after that night. It looks like you either died or just vanished” FRIDAY replied

“Have you shared this information with Mr. Stark and James then” you asked

“Yes Miss. It’s my understanding that they both wish to speak to you about what happened next.” FRIDAY replied

“I suppose you might be right” you got up from the bed and looked around the medical room you were in.

“If you are looking for the bathroom it’s the door behind you” FRIDAY prompted

“Thank you” you chuckled

You stepped into the bathroom. Your jaw dropped. You had never seen such a big shower. You took off your gown that you had put on yesterday and had a much needed shower. The stress and events of the last 24 hours had left you feeling sticky and in need of hot water to feel refreshed. You scrubbed your hair clean. And sat under the shower head letting the hot water and water pressure relax your tense muscles.

You got out the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself and went to grab some clothes from your bag. You grabbed a pair of black jeggins, a top in y/fc and grabbed a black leather jacket with silver zippers you had bought recently. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you brushed out your hair. You found the hair dryer and dried your hair. You pulled your necklace out from under your shirt. You opened the locket and looked at the photo of you and James at Coney Island. That day felt like a life time away. You were so different now but you still loved him, he had been your rock for years. You wondered if the two of you would be able to go back to what you were before. You shake your head and take one last quick look in the mirror and leave the bathroom.

“uh FRIDAY?” You asked unsure on how to get the AI’s attention

“Yes, Miss y/ln? How can I help you?”FRIDAY responded

“Y/n you can call me y/n. I was wondering where everyone was? I mean Nat, James, Steve and Mr. Stark? I think I probably should go and talk to them? Also where should I bring my stuff?” You ask.

“They are all currently in the common room and kitchen. I can give you directions. As for your bags. I’ll have someone take them to the room that Mr. Stark and Nat have set aside for you” FRIDAY replied

“Thank you.” You replied. You grabbed your satchel bag with all your files that you had grabbed from HYDRA when you escaped. You didn’t want them in anyone’s hands except your own. You still hadn’t decided how or when you were going to share them. But you figured you should probably do so soon. Keeping that a secret for too long would eat you up. If you wanted to be trusted by the Avengers you had to share everything with them and let them decide.

FRIDAY gave you directions to the common room and kitchen area. You could hear people talking before you turned around the corner. You took a deep breath before turning the corner. Everyone stopped talking when they saw you standing there. James slowly stood up. But before he could walk over to you Nat was by your side. She must have sensed how nervous you were and wrapped her arm around your shoulder looking at you with a huge smile.

“Look who decided to finally join us! Come on sit. I’ll grab you some food and introduce you to everyone else she smiled”

Nat said pointing to all the free seats infant of you.

You hesitated before taking a seat on one of the single arm chairs.

“Thanks” you looked around at all the people sitting around on the sofas and floor.

“Everyone, this is y/n. Y/n this is Wanda, Clint, Sam, Bruce, Tony, Vision and you already know Bucky and Steve” Nat said as she introduced you the the members of the Avengers. You nodded and smiled at everyone.

“I’m sorry, did you just say that she already knows Bucky and Steve” the man called Sam asked. “So she is your girl then Barnes, why didn’t anyone tell me!” Sam said jokingly.

“But that would mean …How? I mean … you don’t …” Sam looked visibly confused

“Old? Like I should be what 90 something by now? Or dead” you joked looking at Sam

“Yeah…” Sam replied looking at trying to figure out exactly how you hadn’t aged.

“Long story… I … um *sigh* how do I phrase this … was on ice for a while…” you responded.

At that James snapped his head to you. Who looked concerned and shocked all at once. You wondered why he looked like that.

“I … uhh … have these files that have some information about me that I believe will be useful. Um Nat? I think you better take a look and um maybe whoever is in charge or can make sense of them. I’ve read over them countless of times and still don’t understand everything in them” you handed over the satchel to Nat. She looked at you to check if you really meant it. You nodded, you figured now was a good time as any to finally share your past. You figured that Nat would be the best person to hand the files over too.

“I figured since you already asked FRIDAY to look into me this will help fill in the gaps. Also it should help you decide how much you trust me. Considering the content of them.” You looked at Nat. You raised both your eyebrows in question ‘should I tell them now or wait until you’ve looked at them?’.

“Y/n what do you mean if we can trust you?” James asked he looked visibly confused. Poor guy, you thought how is he going to take this… considering everything that has happened to you since he last saw you you wondered how he was going to take it.

“Uhh…” you looked at Nat. She had opened one of the files and was scanning them. She looked up to you and walked over to the man named Tony showing him the file she had just read. He looked at it then looked at you.

“By any chance are you the same y/n y/ln that my father talked about you was presumed dead after an explosion in a lab?” Tony asked. My father you thought… wait is Tony Howard’s son? You looked at the man in front of you and you saw the resemblance. He must have been the Mr. Stark FRIDAY was referring too earlier.

“Your father? Wait Howard Stark is your father” you asked

“Yes” he replied, he had a ghost of a smile on his face.

“You look a lot like him you know. But to answer your question yes. But the explosion didn’t kill me. It almost did … but by the file you are looking at. I’m guessing you may have an idea as to how I survived”

“I’m sorry. What explosion!” James asked standing up he started to walk forward but Steve stood up and put his hand on James’s shoulder.

“I hope you understand when I say I want to look over all of these. Talk to you and dig deeper with FRIDAY before I can let you join us. Also keep you somewhere away from the rest of us” Tony replied

“I expected as much and I completely understand why. I do have questions as well. I also hope that you might be able to help in undoing some of what was done to me” you said

“Would someone tell me what is going on! Why can’t we trust her! She’s y/n! Steve and I know her. Isn’t that enough!?” Bucky asked

“Tony doesn’t know if you can trust me because… *you took a deep breath* I was used by HYDRA to do their dirty work. They ran experiments on me and controlled me for years. I was finally able to get away a few years ago.” you looked down at your shoes you couldn’t bring yourself to look at James or Steve.

“So HYDRA… had more than one human weapon doing their dirty work” Sam said.

“What there was someone else?” You looked up shocked.

“I think it’s best if I show y/n to her room and go over some details before we share anything else with her. Sorry, but just to be safe” Tony cut in.

His father had mentioned you a few times. Skilled nurse, volunteered to help with the war effort and research. She had been in a lab where they were trying to replicate the serum when something went wrong. She helped get everyone out but ran back inside to get some files when the whole lab blew up.

You followed Tony down a few corridors until you came to a door where Tony scanned his hand and plugged in a code. You followed him through the door and he opened a door on the right. It was a small room with a bed, desk and a en suit bathroom.

“I’ll have someone come by and drop off your bags” he said while taking a seat at the desk. Nat had handed him the satchel with all the files. He began reading them flipping through the pages of them he had a solemn look on his face.

“Looks like you put up a hell of a fight against them. They didn’t use you as much as ….” Tony trailed off

“Who?” You asked

“Barnes” he looked at you

You blinked. James had been used as well. You wandered if the two of you had been kept in the same place. Had the two of you been down the hall from each other all these years? You had so many questions running through your head.

“From what I understand. It looks like they used a computer chip to control you?” Tony asked brining you out of your thoughts.

“Uh yeah. That, I know very little about, just that it is what they used to control me. If I refused to comply or try and fight the programming they would zap me through it.” You turned around and showed him the scar at the back of your neck.

“They had some sort of device that would turn my self control off and that gave them the ability to tell me what to do” you explained.

“Right… and I’m guessing that chip is still there. And if someone were to find that device or replicate it. They would be able to control you” Tony said closing the file and putting it in the satchel

“Yes. And that’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve been on the run the last few years since I escaped them. I caught wind that the Avengers had taken Hydra down. But I was still worried. Just because you take the head off the monster doesn’t mean a new one won’t grow back or someone will crawl out of the woodwork wanting to continue their mission” you said.

Tony nodded his head. He stood up and turned to face you.

“I’m going to go over these files and get FRIDAY to look somethings over. I noticed that there are some hard drives here as well. May I ask how you have all of this” Tony asked

“When I was being held I noticed once that they kept everything about me in a box along with what I had on me when the found me. When I escaped I grabbed everything so they wouldn’t be able to do what they did to me to someone else. The hard drives hold videos. Some are of the experiments they did on me, so you better have a strong stomach watching those. The rest is video surveillance from what I did. I understand that you will have to share this with the others at some point. I just ask to warn James and Steve. Seeing someone you know be subjected to what I went through might be too much.” You stated.

“You know, my dad mentioned you a few times. I think he felt responsible for what happened. I’ll go over the file on the chip in your neck in more detail and consult with someone who I think might be able to help. They have experience with getting HYDRA out of peoples heads. You seem like a good person you just had a lot of bad things happen to them. Once we get that thing out of your head and I’ve gone over these files I don’t see any issue in you joining us. If that’s what you want.” Tony made his way to the door and opened it.

“Oh. When you are hungry just let FRIDAY know and she can help you with ordering some food and get it sent to you here” Tony turned back and walked through the door closing it behind him.

You fell back on the bed. You took a deep breath and sighed. You had done it. You had shared the files and now they knew. What happens next was out of your hands. Your stomach grumbled. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were. When was the last time you had eaten?

“Hey FRIDAY?”

“Yes y/n? How can I help?” FRIDAY replied

“How do I order food? Like is there a menu or? You asked

“If you look at the small tablet on the side table you will see the menu options for this week. Just select what you would like and I will get it sent up to you” FRIDAY replied

You picked up the small tablet and looked over the menu. You selected a burger (with meat or vegetarian) with a side of fries and (a drink of your choice) you also selected something to drink.

—— meanwhile in the conference room——

Bucky’s POV

The team where all sitting around the conference room waiting for Tony. He had called everyone to meet him there. He was on his way after talking to y/n. He was replaying what she had said.

“Tony doesn’t know if you can trust me because… I was used by HYDRA to do their dirty work”

She had been used by HYDRA… they had used her to do who knows what. And she thought that because of that she couldn’t be trusted. He was going to have to talk to Tony. If Tony was able to begin to trust him then he should trust her too.

Tony walked in carrying the bag that y/n had handed to Nat. What was in there that she thought she couldn’t be trusted. He knew that sharing his past had been difficult so he was going to be supportive in helping you.

“Ok. So I had a conversation with y/n. She gave me a brief explanation of what she has gone through. Seems like she was captured, experimented on and controlled is a similar way to Barnes” Tony began

“When?” Bucky interrupted

“Sorry?” Tony asked

“When did that happen” Bucky explained

“Uh..” Tony looked at the file “Looks like a few days before Steve went into the ice” Tony replied

“So what almost 2 years I fell of the train” Bucky replied

“Anyway” Tony continued “She was very willing and accepting that she stay in our holding area while we go over her files. She even explained what is on the hard drives. It seems like it’s videos of what they did to her and want she was forced to do. She doesn’t understand everything that happened to her and wants answers. She’s also worried the wrong people will find her and control her. I think we might have to contact Shuri for help in extracting the chip in her neck along with any programming”

“So what your saying is you are willing to trust her” Bucky asked

“I’m willing to begin to see if we can. Yes. So shall we all look at these files and videos” Tony responded

“I guess before we move forward we should” Sam replied

“I do have share something she told me. She said that the videos may be hard to watch” Tony said looking at Steve and Bucky.

Bucky looked at Steve, he could only imagine what they were about to see. He had flashes of what he had been through and wondered what you had been through. He mentally prepared himself for what he was about to see. Steve looked at him and raised his eyebrows. Bucky nodded his head.

“Ok, let’s start” Steve said looking at Tony.

“Alright” Tony said. He pressed a few buttons on his tablet to turn off the lights and plugged in one of the hard drives and opened up the first file.

Ch. 8

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