dark-dimension-clea:
justatrainingexercise:
flylikeafalcon:
Sam looked from the wizard duo to Jim, who didn’t look like he was going to answer her questions right away, and back to the wizard duo. She wasn’t on fire anymore and, for her part, didn’t look like she was going to punch Sam, though he kept his distance a little bit as he lowered his hands.
“Right now, we have…three for sure, including the two of us. All baseline humans.” Sam made a what can you do? face. “And I think one high-powered guy coming in?”
“The Vision,” Jim supplied through his hand.
“Right. Yeah,” Sam said. “And Jim got all the floor plans and shit from, uh” – Sam took another half-step back – “the person who was actually involved in designing the torture floors. We’re meeting tomorrow to hash everything out.”
Sam glanced to Jim again. Jim didn’t add anything.
“I think that’s about all I’m supposed to tell you right now?” Sam ventured. Jim cocked his head in what Sam figured was a I would fucking think so look.
Man. Jim had really liked this polo. But while Sam talked, Jim shucked it, haphazardly folded it, and pressed it to his nose with as much pressure as he could stand considering his nose was also clearly broken.
“Nothing personal,” Jim said stiffly. “We came here in good faith, but we need to keep our intel close to the chest. We’re meeting at a private residence in Brooklyn. If you want the address, we’ll give it to you, but that’s about all I think we’re prepared to offer right now.”
Jim could feel Sam giving him a don’t be petty face, but he kept his attention on the woman.
“Except,” Jim conceded, “that the place is rife with power dampeners, including magic. Without someone on the inside, you’ll have a hard time getting in there.”
Jim opened his free hand. Take it or leave it.
“Right now, we have…three for sure, including the two of us. All baseline humans. And I think one high-powered guy coming in?”
“The Vision.”
Clea stopped her pacing to turn and stare at Sam like he’d suddenly sprouted an extra limb. She desperately waited for him to clarify, to tell her more would be coming, but that genuinely seemed to be everyone they had. Four people against an entire prison.
Oh, AND all the information they were working off of was given to them by the person responsible for the more horrific torture going on in the prison. That particular detail made Clea’s blood boil.
How did they get the floor plans? Were they even viable? Did the perpetrator have a change of heart, or did they make some sort of deal in exchange for information? It could have just as easily been some sort of elaborate trap, meant to deliver them all directly to the prison…
The sorceress sighed in exasperation, shaking her head. “Oshtur protect us.” She went back to pacing, if only to try and clear her mind. A horrible sense of dread was starting to creep up on her, so strong that Clea felt as though it would overtake her if she stopped for even a moment.
She caught a glimpse of Wong, who was watching her with a concerned expression. She turned away quickly, not wanting to meet his gaze. He knew, he knew she was cracking.
“No, Sam Wilson. The existence of worse crimes does not clear Colonel Rhodes of his own. He knows what he did.” she shot back, venom apparent in her voice.
Clea composed herself, then continued. “I am not going to ask you how you acquired these floor plans, because the answer will likely just make me angrier than I already am.” she started. What the sorceress really wanted to know was who their informant was, but she knew she’d never get that from them. Not after she’d made her intentions so abundantly clear with Rhodes.
“Though I am assuming that you verified it with a more reputable source?”
Even if the information was accurate, however, their situation was still far from ideal. Humans were terribly frail creatures to begin with, and the three that they had had no powers to speak of. The Vision sounded fairly capable, but Clea didn’t know anything about them. There was no way for her to compare their power level with that of the others when she didn’t even know what their damn powers were. For all she knew, Sam’s definition of ‘heavy hitter’ was barely above the human average.
Everything about this screamed that it was a horrible idea, but it was also the BEST and ONLY idea they had. Maybe she was starting to go insane, but the sorceress was willing to take the risk if it meant saving Stephen from that horrible place.
Hopefully she and this Vision person would have enough firepower to get the job done.
Colonel Rhodes was holding his shirt to his nose now, an image that was providing Clea with an extreme amount of satisfaction. She didn’t particularly appreciate his tone, or his threats regarding the magic dampeners, but he could make petty jabs, if he wanted to.
The sorceress took the hand that was offered to her, squeezing it tightly. Not enough to break bones, but enough that it would make Rhodes mildly uncomfortable. “Well, you two certainly could not do it alone either,” Clea smirked at the Colonel “…If a single punch felled you. So I suppose we are both ‘in the same boat’, as they say.”
Clea let go and turned away, taking the brief moment of privacy to rub the fatigue from her eyes. She realized just how tired she really was, now that the adrenaline was fading from her system. Her outburst had been draining, both emotionally and physically, and she hadn’t slept in days…
But she was the sorceress supreme of three dimensions now, and who had time to sleep when you had to protect three worlds from possible destruction?
“Go, before you fall over and I have to drag you upstairs. I’ll finish up here.”
Wong. He was speaking to her telepathically. She shot him an annoyed look from across the room, but he just stared her down until she finally looked away.
“Fine.” she conceded, but she wasn’t happy about it.
Clea turned back to their guests. “I have a few matters that I need to attend to. Wong can take the address and show you out.”
“Gentlemen.” she bowed politely, then vanished up the stairs.
Once she was gone, Wong approached Rhodes and Wilson to collect the address. “We’ll be in touch.” he said.
With a gesture, the shattered remains of the front door reassembled themselves. Another gesture, and the doors opened on their own.
Rhodes stared at Wong. “Hey, before we go…“ he started, pointing towards his bloody nose. “…would you mind?”
“Yes. Now get out of my house.”
The doors slammed behind them.












