It's Called Being a Badass

Exclusive RP blog with Avengers Mansion RP

[flylikeafalcon]

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.

[justatrainingexercise]

DC Shakedown // Maria & Jim

[justatrainingexercise]

furyslefteye‌: 

I’m not here to yell. Maria knew she deserved the harshest words, but it was relieving to hear she still had time to prepare for the hurricane. She let out a deep sigh, letting some of her tenseness subside.

“The Interface has two functions. It was started back when Loki’s scepter was in Shield’s custody. The first function is what Ross has been working on for years - basically mind control. The second he referred to as ‘Pleasant Hill’. The Interface can store people’s minds when they’re not ‘in use’, as he calls it. They can be connected together, and the Raft workers built a simulated world for these minds to interact in. They’ve been using the prisoners lives as playgrounds to do whatever they want to these people. To the prisoners, their lives inside the Interface feel very real.”

Maria finally looked up at James. “This is why I’m calling for a siege on the Raft. If he can’t control these people, he’s going to let the Interface kill them. He’s tortured these prisoners - our friends - into complete submission. If we don’t act then he will have the Thunderbolts up and running within the month and he will be unstoppable.”

Maria placed the binder on the table. “Here’s Ross’ paper trail. Please keep it safe - most of what’s in here was in the files I sent. No one but you has responded, but I do know that Tony received the e-mail because he was taken prisoner.”

Jim pulled the binder across the table but clapped a hand over it as Maria kept talking and the whole world stopped. Again.

“He -- what? When?”

Then time caught up with him and he opened the binder, started flipping through it, then looked up at Maria.

“He’s going to kill them? Why -- when did this -- ”

He pressed a fist to his mouth, took a breath. This should be old hat by now, really -- Tony disappears, Jim hunts him down, they save the day, rinse and repeat. At least this time Jim had the benefit of knowing exactly where he was. He also knew what was being done to him, which...wasn’t helpful now, exactly, but it probably would be later, when Jim had to watch Tony put himself back together.

Again.

But just like Afghanistan, Jim was part of the system that had landed Tony in captivity. But not just Tony -- hundreds of people, some of them barely adults, that Ross could have framed or straight-up kidnapped for his under-the-table dealings.

Jim lowered his fist from his lips and tented his fingers on the table. If there was one thing he couldn’t afford, it was to panic. As long as Tony complied, he’d be fine, and then Jim would get him out. Later, he and Maria and Ross could be held accountable for what they’d done.

“I can think of a few people who will be up for this,” he said, more calmly now, “but we’re obviously scattered to the winds a little bit here. You got anyone lined up to help us out?”

[batmanscloak]

<p>my twitter: @docmysticarts</p>

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

dark-dimension-clea:

Clea felt cartilage and muscle shift beneath her fist as it made contact with the Colonel’s nose, followed by an audible crack that seemed to echo endlessly through the Sanctum’s foyer. The force reverberated through her fingers and up to her elbow, bringing a tingling sensation along with it that she couldn’t quite dispel. It didn’t hurt, not yet at least; she suspected it would once the adrenaline wore off.  

Rhodes, on the other hand, was bleeding profusely onto both the sorceress and himself. His eyes were watering as he reeled from the hit, but he didn’t cry out in pain.

She wanted him to. She wanted an audible confirmation that he was suffering just as much as Stephen was in that moment. He deserved to, Clea told herself. It was justified.

But that thought, that need for violence, still made her feel horribly similar to her uncle.

When she became queen of the Dark Dimension, she banished her mother and father for their crimes.  She should have hated them for what they did, but it had hurt her so immensely that she’d been unable to finish the spell without assistance. Clea had empathy for monsters then, so why couldn’t find it now?

“Wait.”

“Hey, woah, okay–”  

The other human- Sam Wilson- was talking behind her, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her blood rushing through her ears.

“Clea, that’s enough.” Wong was calling out to her too, but wasn’t actually making any move to stop her- in fact, he hadn’t moved from his original position over by the staircase at all. By the tone of his voice, it sounded like he cared more about the shattered window than Rhodes’ nose.  

Good. Then they were on the same side.

All the sorceress wanted to do was keep punching Rhodes until she couldn’t feel her hand anymore. He was the source of all her pain,  and she wanted him to feel everything she had over the past seven months. All the anger, fear, and sorrow she had to keep bottled up inside so that she could pretend to be strong for her people.

Stephen was the first person, human or otherwise, who ever bothered to show her real kindness. Losing him felt like losing a part of herself, and she need to do something to try and take that piece back.

Clea roared when someone- Wilson- moved between her and Rhodey, trying desperately to keep her hold on the one person she could punish for all this, but her body betrayed her. She lost her grip when he struck her elbow; enraged, she tried to lunge after him, only to be blocked by Wilson.

“Move.” She hissed. The Flames of Regency continued to flicker over her head, but energy was beginning to pool around her fingertips as well. Clea didn’t want to hurt Sam, but she would if he kept standing in her way.

Wong must have noticed her escalating, because he finally approached and placed a hand on Clea’s shoulder. She turned to look at him, his presence grounding her in reality.  

It took her a few moments to realize that he was purposely radiating a calming aura around her, but by then the effects were already taking hold.

“listen – regardless of what any of us did or didn’t do, we’re trying to fix this now. If you don’t want in, that’s cool! That’s cool. You can beat the shit out of us afterwards. But seriously, it’s just a handful of us against an entire federal prison. We need you, but more importantly, so does whoever you have on the inside.”

He was right, and the sorceress knew it.

She wanted Stephen back more than she wanted to keep throwing punches, and they needed Rhodes and Wilson if they had any chance of freeing her husband.  

Clea slowly unclenched her fists, and the Flames of Regency eventually vanished from above her head. She couldn’t help but be calm now, even as she stared at Rhodes from across the room with a look of utter contempt.

There were splatters of his blood on her clothing and arms, from where it had sprayed out of his nose. She’d never really seen this much human blood before, not since the Cloak of Levitation came home covered in it..

No, she couldn’t think about that right now.

The sorceress hadn’t escaped the fight unscathed either, however. Her knuckles had been sliced open by the punch as well, speckling her hand with her own blood. It was purplish-blue in colour, much brighter than the deep crimson liquid splattered around it.  

Clea closed her eyes “Fine.” she said, turning around so that she could pace the foyer. She was calm now, so there was no need for Wong’s aura anymore. And It was a distraction from her more unpleasant thoughts- not a good one, but it would have to do for now.  

“You say a handful. How many people is that, specifically? What advantages do we have going in?” Clea asked. She’d led a rebellion and stormed a fully armed castle before, she could take down a human prison - granted she had the right tools.

“Do you have any useful information? Floor plans, shift changes- anything.”

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.

[flylikeafalcon]

Now the Ground Begins to Quake // Sam, Rhodey, & Tony

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

thefuturistknows:

Hunger strike, Rhodey offered. It sounded a lot like Steve, and it didn’t. Too passive for him, or maybe suitably extreme. It certainly wouldn’t have been the most potentially self-sabotaging form of resistance Steve had put on until now. Was he resisting or was he giving up – Tony couldn’t even really tell with him anymore, with the way he’d surrendered so easily today. (”Find another Captain America,” Steve had said.) It seemed terribly self-defeating to be so opposed to a law, and then still yield to its consequences. Then again, that was what Tony himself was doing, in his own way.

He tried to keep his attention on the numbers and coordinates and status updates on his HUD as he flew away with Rhodey, leaving the sinking prison and Steve behind. The HUD made the world look like a video game sometimes. Sometimes, Tony still uselessly wished he would wake up one day and this would all turn out to have been some feverishly drawn-out nightmare scenario he’d concocted. Or maybe Rhodey would suddenly turn off the TV and say no more games for the night. Might be just some Pollyannaism, but as Tony recalled it, everything seemed to be way easier when it was just him and Jim.

“The best thing we can do is find him a really, really good lawyer and try to get his trial to happen sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. How many times have they hit the snooze button on this trial again?”

Tony didn’t need an answer for that. He sped off like he could somehow outfly everything about this situation, though he knew that technically they were just flying directly toward even more of a headache. He touched down on the landing pad at the Avengers facility a few seconds before Rhodey, enough to have sent his own empty armor away.

“Let’s be careful with Sam, yeah?” Tony said as soon as he knew Rhodey could hear him. “He’s getting sort of frisky and I think I have even less of a hold on him than I ever had on Steve.”

Sam knew the exercises, the meditations, the self-talk, yadda yadda yadda – and he was trying to keep his head, he really, really was. But he was sore and exhausted and hated, fucking hated being kept in the dark, and he was just as pissed at Steve as he was at Rhodes but hey, Steve wasn’t there, so Sam was going to have to address this shit first and that irked him because he knew that really, if Steve hadn’t run off on his own, if he had just called Sam –

Sam stopped pacing and forced himself to take a breath. Hold. Exhale. Whew.

And then Rhodes and Stark walked in.

“All right,” Sam said as he crossed the room to meet them. “I know I’m projecting some shit onto y’all. I’ll cop to that. But I’m dying here. Are we supposed to wait for permission to find the people who broke into the Raft and set this whole thing up? ‘Cause you and I both know that the longer we wait – ”

“Sam, I get it,” Jim said, but that was all Sam needed to throw all his woosa exercises out the window.

“No, man, I don’t think you do. The ink is still wet on my registration so I could go on a mission that shouldn’t have happened if your boss knew what the fuck he was doing. He’s wasting our time and everyone’s money on locking up good people – civilians, man! Kids! – while ex-HYDRA insurgents are still running around! They broke into your fucking prison, man, and they killed people, and our people are paying for it. So why the fuck are we here and not actively searching for them, huh? Is it just Ross’s dick I gotta suck?”

“Let’s be careful with Sam, yeah? He’s getting sort of frisky and I think I have even less of a hold on him than I ever had on Steve.”

“I’m not sure anyone but Steve can say they have a hold on Sam,” Jim said dryly. 

Seemingly to prove Jim’s point, Sam was already talking as soon as Jim and Tony had entered the room. Jim kept his trap shut and nodded along for as long as he could, but it was rapidly becoming apparent to Jim that Sam may have been out for a fight as much as he was out for any solutions.

“Sam, I get it,” Jim said -- calmly and rationally, he thought, but then Sam was off like a bat out of hell. 

“So why the fuck are we here and not actively searching for them, huh? Is it just Ross’s dick I gotta suck?”

“I said I get it, Sam,” Jim said, more forcefully now. “You asked us to meet you here, so we’re here. If you want me to put in a mission request to chase Rumlow and his friend, I can do that. Everyone in there still has the right to due process -- ”

“You sure?” Sam injected, and Jim stiffened as Sam turned his attention to Tony. “Aight. When’s Steve’s trial? What’s he even being charged with? Who’s his lawyer? Y’all know? ‘Cause I sure as shit don’t.”

“If this is just about Steve,” Jim said coldly, “you can take this somewhere else.”

Sam turned back to stare Jim down. Or try to. Jim wasn’t one to pull rank or otherwise abuse power, but he also wasn’t going to walk away from this just because Sam was being dramatic. Is Sam wanted to talk, then Jim would talk, but he sure as hell didn’t owe it to Sam to be his punching bag for his own hurt feelings.

[justatrainingexercise]

DC Shakedown // Maria & Jim

[justatrainingexercise]

furyslefteye:

Maria called ahead to the restaurant, reserving the ‘usual room’. She went there every time Ross needed to present something to her without any cameras around. Whenever they went there, it meant she was about to sign off on something terrible.

The night she sent out the emails, she had finished making copies of the paper trail. She stashed it all in a binder in her office, which she made a note to grab on her way out. It would be safer with James than it would be with her, considering the circumstances. Ross trusted her enough not to sift through her belongings, but she couldn’t risk the questions. Not when she was so close to exposing him.

The moment she was seated, her leg started bouncing. The waitress set down two glasses of water and shut the door.

So many thoughts were racing through her head, she didn’t notice he walked in ten minutes late. She saw his gesture and glanced away.

In a tired, monotonous, almost robotic voice, she said: “Even if you don’t share the feeling, it’s nice to see you.”

It’s nice to see someone sane.

Maria continued, not looking up again. “I know you probably expected somewhere more discreet, but this is the only place close by where Ross can’t track what I’m doing. He knows I’m with you, and right now he’s discussing moving forward with the Thunderbolt program. His top scientists said they have finally found a way to get Stephen Strange to cooperate with the Interface. That’s just from this morning, so why don’t you take a seat instead of standing there trying to find a way to yell at me for lying?”

“Even if you don’t share the feeling, it’s nice to see you.”

Jim considered that, then dropped his head and nodded. All things considered, he was glad she was okay. If Ross had had any idea that Maria was preparing to open the door on him, she probably would have disappeared already. He took a seat at her bidding and folded his hands on top of the table in full view -- a gesture of trust in what Maria had to say.

“I’m not here to yell,” he said. “I just need to know what’s going on that’s got you recommending a siege on the Raft. I thought the Thunderbolts and the Interface were hypotheticals?”

[justatrainingexercise]

dark-dimension-clea:

flylikeafalcon:

“It makes no difference to me what you call yourselves. The Avengers are registered. An Avenger arrested my husband, and nearly killed him in the process. You may not agree with what has been going on behind closed doors, and I understand how that feels, but you cannot simply separate yourselves from the government you have been serving for months now.”

Sam openly raised an eyebrow at Jim. He wouldn’t throw Jim under the bus, but he also wasn’t above reinforcing his point that the SHRA wasn’t copacetic anymore, if it ever had been to start with. To his credit, Jim did look humbled; if he was going to convince these two that the Avengers could get them into the Raft, he was probably going to have to own up to the depth of his involvement.

“How much do you two know about the Raft?” Jim asked.

“We know that its hidden somewhere in the ocean, and that it’s impenetrable to magic….We also know about the the things that they do to the prisoners there, the torture.”

Jim nodded, more to himself than to anyone else, and crossed his arms again.

“We just learned about the torture ourselves,” Jim said. “But I helped design that prison, and I had a chat with one of the people who was involved in the…with the torture. We’re going to have an opening in a couple weeks to get everyone out, but we need all the help we can get.”

There it was. For the first time since he had lost his cool on Jim and Stark, Sam was starting to feel the bridges rebuild between them – or, at least, as though there was potential for repair eventually. For now, he trained his gaze on the sorceress and nodded in accord with Jim.

“I know you have no reason to trust us,” Jim continued. “Frankly, I don’t think most of the Avengers roster will trust each other for a while. But…”

Jim stalled and looked to Sam, seemingly unsure of how to put into words the appeal he was trying to make. Sam, of course, was quick to pick up the thread. This was sort of his expertise, after all.

“We understand if you don’t want to risk it. We’ll still get your people out. We wouldn’t say no to whatever firepower you’re packing, though.”

Clea had to admit, she was somewhat surprised when James Rhodes and his companion didn’t immediately object to her opinion of the Avengers. It was a  harsh thing to say, yes, but it was also an honest view of their current reality, and not something the sorceress  was willing to ignore. It certainly wasn’t easy, for these men to accept that they had been just as much a part of the problem as their enemies had been, but it was necessary if they were going to be working together. It was interesting to see that Rhodes seemed humbled, not offended, by her words.

“We just learned about the torture ourselves… but I helped design that prison.”

The mood in the Sanctum instantly shifted.

Clea froze at the words, a shiver passing through her as her blood ran cold.  Wong turned away from the two men with a disgusted look, shaking his head. Whatever interest they may have had in these possible allies was gone now, and replaced with a flurry of emotion that neither of them could properly identify.

James Rhodes, the human standing in front of the two sorcerers, had designed the prison. He was  personally responsible for what was being done to prisoners of the raft, and yet he stood there and claimed to just be finding out about the torture now? It was almost laughable, how little self awareness he had.

“I know you have no reason to trust us…“

Rhodes was talking, but Clea couldn’t hear him anymore over the deafening roar of her own thoughts. What had he done to Stephen, under the justification of keeping him imprisoned? Capturing sorcerers was difficult enough in her home dimension, and they had access to magic themselves. What were these humans doing to him, without the aid of spells or hexes?

She’d seen what they’d done to Jane Foster, a pregnant human, In Loki’s memories. It was horrific, and whatever they were doing to hold a magic-user as powerful as Stephen was likely even worse than that. 

And the man responsible for it was standing right in front of her.

 “We understand if you don’t want to risk it. We’ll still get your people out. We wouldn’t say no to whatever firepower you’re packing, though.” 

Firepower? She’d show them firepower.

Clea’s eyes flashed as the flames of regency suddenly appeared above her head, surrounding her face with a crown of living fire.

"How DARE YOU?”

 The house itself seemed to shudder as Clea spoke, the light fixtures overhead flickering and swinging wildly overhead. Behind her, the frosted glass in the front door cracked and shattered under the mystic pressure.

“Clea, the house.”

Wong sounded displeased about the damage to the Sanctum, but she didn’t care. Months of rage and grief and dispair were pouring out of her now, and all she wanted to do was make the person responsible pay. 

The sorceress teleported behind Rhodes and slammed him into the wall, the drywall cracking behind him from the impact.

“ARE YOU A TERRIBLE LIAR OR JUST A COMPLETE FOOL?”

The entire foyer changed as Clea pulled them all into the most vivid of the memories she took from Loki’s mind:  a pregant Jane Foster, Now the All Mother of Asgard, sitting in her cell. She looked underfed and sickly, surrounded by freezing cold water. 

“YOU DID THAT,” she yelled, grabbing Rhodey and slamming him into the wall again for emphasis. “SO HOW DARE YOU STAND HERE AND TELL ME YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE TORTURE." 

Clea punched him in the face. She could have hit him with magic, if she wanted to, but that was too impersonal for this; she wanted to feel it.

In hindsight, Jim would wonder why he didn’t expect this. He couldn’t remember the last time talking down a superhuman or metahuman or synthezoid had worked out well for him, if it ever had.

Of course, this time, he was unarmed. He and Sam both were. They’d arrived in good faith, and at best, Jim had anticipated getting turned away -- not for the whole goddamn house to quake as the head of the woman in front of him erupted into flame.

"How DARE YOU?”

“Now, hold on -- ”

And then the woman was gone. Jim had about enough time to look to the man before someone grabbed him and flung him with ferocious force into the wall. 

“ARE YOU A TERRIBLE LIAR OR JUST A COMPLETE FOOL?”

Jim had to suck in a breath against the dull pain that grasped his chest on impact and took hold of her forearm. Even though he could still feel the wall against his back, he wasn’t looking at the mansion behind her anymore as her voice continued to fill what felt like all of space and time.

Offhand, Jim didn’t recognize the woman in the cell, but he didn’t need to know her to see that she was very pregnant and that the conditions she was being held in were grossly inhumane. He knew it was in he Raft, and somehow -- maybe thanks to whatever magic this sorceress was using to show them this -- he knew it wasn’t a fabrication.

He’s also seen Steve with his own eyes. Twice. Despite the budgeting and resource suggestions he’d made, he knew now that the people in the Raft were being underfed and largely neglected. Tony, Sam, and Sharon all knew it, and so did these two sorcerers. Present situation aside, Jim knew this was promising; he’d been in enough combat situations by now to keep his head, and he was still confident that they could band together on this if she’d just let him get a word in.

“YOU DID THAT, SO HOW DARE YOU STAND HERE AND TELL ME YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE TORTURE."

She slammed him into the wall again, and he was about ready to break her hold when she, quite literally, beat him to the punch. A fist to the face was no joke from a baseline human, but this woman was clearly a little to the right on the bell curve and clearly knew what she was doing: she nailed him square in the nose, forcing his eyes to water and pain to rocket up between his eyes.

Okay. Now he was pissed.

[flylikeafalcon]

dark-dimension-clea:

justatrainingexercise:

After another minute or two, the door opened again, and this time an otherworldly-looking woman greeted them.

“We are open to discussion, if you’ll follow us inside.”

Jim and Sam exchanged another glance to establish that they were, in fact, ready to trust the two strangers in the mansion, and then Jim unfolded his arms and nodded.

“Thanks.”

He followed her into the foyer with Sam close behind, careful not to turn around as the door shut behind them. Inside, the mansion looked as ornate and old-fashioned as Jim might have expected, especially compared to Tony’s more postmodern aesthetic. He spared a moment to assess the staircase before them, but as best as Jim could tell, it was just the four of them present in the front room, so he turned back to the mansion’s occupants.

“I probably didn’t make the best first impression,” he said. “We’re not here on behalf of the government. We’re here on behalf of the Avengers. How much do you two know about the Raft?”

“Thanks.”

Clea nodded, then turned to lead the two men into the main foyer. They seemed to be assessing the room as they entered, particularly the stairs, though that was to be expected; this was unexplored, possibly hostile territory for them. It would be foolish not to consider the possibility of an ambush, or any other unforseen dangers that the Sanctum might hold. She would be doing the same thing, if she was in their place.

“We’re the only ones here, if you’re worried about others being present.” she said. The sorceress doubted the humans would simply take her word for it, but it was better to show honesty, if they were going to be working together. “Everyone else was captured, or they fled after my husband was arrested.”

Wong was standing off to the side, arms crossed as he observed the two men now standing in his foyer. He didn’t look happy to be letting them inside, but he and Clea didn’t have any other options. Not if they wanted their people back.  “We lost our last sorceress, Illyana Rasputin, two weeks ago.” he added. “We don’t know her current location, but its likely that she’s on The Raft.”

The tention in the Sanctum was palapable, when the Colonel spoke again. “I probably didn’t make the best first impression. We’re not here on behalf of the government. We’re here on behalf of the Avengers.“

That was a lie. A beautiful one, meant to bring comfort, but a lie nontheless. The truth was that the second the Registation Act became law, the Avengers stopped being protectors of the common people, and became weapons instead. They were simply tools of the Government now, arresting eachother to spread fear and distrust.

 Clea smiled at the Colonel, but there was no joy behind it, only sorrow.

“It makes no difference to me what you call yourselves. The Avengers are registered. An Avenger arrested my husband, and nearly killed him in the process. You may not agree with what has been going on behind closed doors, and I understand how that feels, but you cannot simply seperate yourselves from the government you have been serving for months now.”

The sorceress looked away, shaking her head. This was becoming dangerously personal for her now, even more so than it already had been, but she couldn’t let the guilt from her own past mistakes distract her from saving Stephen.

“How much do you two know about the Raft?”

 They knew next to nothing about it, all things considered. Just the terrible things she had heard from Loki, but it was neither recent nor useful information. Knowing what they were doing to her husband and not being able to act was worse than not knowing anything at all. It was eating her up inside, she couldn’t sleep without seeing his face….

“We know that its hidden somewhere in the ocean, and that its imprenetrable to magic.” she said, trying to maintain her composure, and to keep the anger out of her voice.

 ” ….We also know about the the things that they do to the prisoners there, the torture.“

“It makes no difference to me what you call yourselves. The Avengers are registered. An Avenger arrested my husband, and nearly killed him in the process. You may not agree with what has been going on behind closed doors, and I understand how that feels, but you cannot simply separate yourselves from the government you have been serving for months now.”

Sam openly raised an eyebrow at Jim. He wouldn’t throw Jim under the bus, but he also wasn’t above reinforcing his point that the SHRA wasn’t copacetic anymore, if it ever had been to start with. To his credit, Jim did look humbled; if he was going to convince these two that the Avengers could get them into the Raft, he was probably going to have to own up to the depth of his involvement.

“How much do you two know about the Raft?” Jim asked.

“We know that its hidden somewhere in the ocean, and that it’s impenetrable to magic….We also know about the the things that they do to the prisoners there, the torture.”

Jim nodded, more to himself than to anyone else, and crossed his arms again.

“We just learned about the torture ourselves,” Jim said. “But I helped design that prison, and I had a chat with one of the people who was involved in the…with the torture. We’re going to have an opening in a couple weeks to get everyone out, but we need all the help we can get.”

There it was. For the first time since he had lost his cool on Jim and Stark, Sam was starting to feel the bridges rebuild between them – or, at least, as though there was potential for repair eventually. For now, he trained his gaze on the sorceress and nodded in accord with Jim.

“I know you have no reason to trust us,” Jim continued. “Frankly, I don’t think most of the Avengers roster will trust each other for a while. But…”

Jim stalled and looked to Sam, seemingly unsure of how to put into words the appeal he was trying to make. Sam, of course, was quick to pick up the thread. This was sort of his expertise, after all.

“We understand if you don’t want to risk it. We’ll still get your people out. We wouldn’t say no to whatever firepower you’re packing, though.”

[justatrainingexercise]

The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle // Carol & Jim

[justatrainingexercise]

justatrainingexercise:

captaincarol-danvers:

Carol was tired of galas and formal events and making connections. After years in the military, they all felt the same- polite conversations about weapon development, putting on a good show for her superiors, and meeting with people who seemed to think a woman had no place in their ranks.

She had made the mistake of bringing a date a few times, and found that many people seemed to see it as a sign that she was leaving the service soon, “settling down”, and getting married. After that, she kept her dates private and far from her work.

She looked around the ballroom at the sea of people she didn’t really know. Normally, she had a few cocktails, relaxed, and made small talk until it was polite to go home. This fundraiser, however, seemed to go on and on. The music was slow, the people were boring her, and it was her last scheduled appearance as Colonel. Starting next month, she would be working for SHIELD off planet. She had no reason to stay late tonight, but she thought that she would get something to eat before she left, and headed over to the bar.

She saw the Lieutenant Colonel approaching her, and braced herself for a painfully boring conversation, so when he asked her if she had tried the stuffed mushrooms, she surprised herself, and smiled. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust after all.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel.” she looked him over again, past the dress blues, and found that she liked his eyes, and the way he looked more than a little excited to be talking to her.

Plus, he’s handsome.

“I haven’t tried them, no. Are they good? Or does something else around here have your recommendation. I’m wary of catered food. Got food poisoning at one of these things once.”

Pull yourself together, Carol. He’s handsome. He’s not that handsome.

She felt her ears turn pink, and compensated by straightening her posture, not letting herself get too relaxed. “I’m sorry, that’s an awful topic, forget I said it.”

She hadn’t embarrassed herself like this in a long time, and thought that maybe it was better that she was usually all business at events like these, because at least it made her look like a professional, and not whatever this was.

“….mm.”

He looked from the Colonel to the chafing dish and back to her.

Screw it. Balls to the wall, Rhodes.

“They’re probably fine, but I’d rather have a steak any day. There is a dive a few blocks over that has a really, really good Philly cheese steak.”

He attempted his most charming smile and prayed he didn’t look as rusty as he felt, even as he questioned the sense in recommending a dive right after she’d mentioned food poisoning. Immediately after that, it occurred to him that she may have come with other people, but he could almost hear Tony in his head, making fun of him for having the balls to fly for the Air Force but not enough to just ask someone out.

Then again, she hadn’t offered her name -- not that she was obligated to, but in Jim’s experience, that tended to indicate a lack of interest. He hadn’t done a spectacular job of not being as dull as the rest of the gala, though, so what harm could one more shot do?

“If you’re party doesn’t mind,” he added. It was an easy way out if she needed it, but to drive his genuine interest home, he set his untouched plate of hors d’oeuvres on a nearby standing table.

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

dark-dimension-clea:

“I understand you know someone in the Raft. We were hoping to talk to you about that.”

Wong narrowed his eyes at the Colonel’s words, clearly not interested in whatever conversation the man wanted to have about Stephen or The Raft. It sounded like a thinly veiled threat more than anything else, or some kind of ploy to gather information in order to further incriminate them. Clea was already wanted on multiple accounts, and while there wasn’t any notable proof that he himself was involved in Stephen’s relocation efforts, he was still illegally harbouring unregistered superhumans in his home.

Speaking to someone who clearly worked for the US government might as well have been a death sentence.

Wong was on his way to uttering a quick ‘No thank you, goodbye’ and slamming the door in their (unwelcome) guests’ faces, but one of the men- Sam Wilson- leaned in just far enough to keep him from doing so.

Clea could only see the faintest outline of the humans through the door, but she saw well enough to know that one of them was getting too close to Wong, and to the inside of the Sanctum. She didn’t like what they were saying before, and she liked it even less now that they were advancing on the door.

Wong visibly tensed as he stared the other man down; behind him, he heard the faint hiss of Clea swearing in her native tongue, and the sound of a blade being unsheathed.

“What Jim means is that we want our people back, and we bet you want your people back, so let’s get our people back, you know, together. We could use all the firepower we can get.”

Wong raised an eyebrow. Were…they offering to help break Stephen out of prison? And casually standing on the front stoop while doing it? His gaze briefly flickered over to Clea, who stared back at him with a similarly confused expression. He turned back to the two men.

“I see.” Wong said, then shut the door on them.

“I can’t tell if they’re trying to trick us into letting them past our defences, or if they’re actually foolish enough to announce their battle plans in public.” Clea said, turning to Wong. She still had her dagger out, but she looked more bewildered than battle ready at that point. It was like they were asking to get themselves arrested, if this wasn’t just some elaborate ploy to earn their trust. 

Wong sighed, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t recognize them, and after what happened to Stephen, I’m not willing to put my trust in strangers.”

Clea looked over at the door; the two humans were still out there, waiting. “Do you think this has something to do with Illyana’s disappearance?”

“I pray to the Vishanti that it doesn’t.. but it’s entirely possible. ” He’d been hoping that she’d just been called back to Limbo,  but even he knew that they’d never get that lucky.

“Well, I suppose there’s only one way to know for certain, isn’t there?” The sorceress asked, and  then tucked her dagger back into her belt.

She placed her hands on her temples, taking a few steps towards the door as she muttered a quick focusing charm under her breath. Humans never bothered to build up any mental barriers, so a simple psychic pass over their minds would likely be enough to know the pair’s true intentions.  

Upon entering, Clea was hit with more information than she’d been expecting to receive. Their minds were troubled, burdened by specific thoughts and memories that all too easily bubbled to the surface.

They knew about what the Raft truly was, about the torture she’d learned about from Loki months ago, but had been helpless to stop. They were registered, and felt guilty over arresting a friend…Steve Rogers. She knew him, he had helped Stephen relocate unregistered superhumans. He was a good man.  

Tony Stark was missing as well, likely arrested and taken to the Raft. Clea wasn’t exactly surprised. As much as she wanted to hate him for what happened to Stephen, she had been inside his dreams before, and had seen the kind of man that Tony was. He was haunted by his past, but wanted so desperately to make up for it, and to improve the world he lived in.

The man supported the registration of superhumans because he thought that was what was best for the world. It was the humans running The Raft who warped the narrative to convince Tony that the questionable activities he saw taking place were necessary for ‘the greater good’. That, or he risked losing his own freedom by defying them.

Clea knew this because she’d done the same thing, at least until she’d had the courage to defy Dormammu and escape the Dark Dimension. She had witnessed horrific things, and suppressed them in favour of blindly following the narrative of a benevolent god who had saved her people. She didn’t act out against any injustices she saw because she was terrified of what would happen to her if she did.

The sorceress had put quite a bit of thought into this, after months of crying herself to sleep and trying to find someone, anyone, to blame for what had happened. One of Tony’s men had nearly killed her husband,yes, and they’d brought him to that horrible place….but hating Tony Stark for his actions  would only make her a hypocrite.

The whole process only took a few moments, and Clea was left trying to shake away the wave of foreign thoughts and feelings from her head. Wordlessly, she turned back to Wong and nodded. He returned the gesture.

Together, they approached the front door and opened it.

“We are open to discussion, if you’ll follow us inside.” Clea said.

Sam frowned at the now-closed door, then turned to Jim, who didn’t look too amused himself.

“Think we came on a little strong?” Sam said dryly. Jim did that thing where he inhaled deeply and held it, nostrils flaring a little as he determined the most diplomatic thing to do, but didn’t say anything. It was usually kind of funny, but Sam was more than kind of tired of diplomacy by now.

Sam raised a hand to knock again, then stopped when Jim turned to him.

“What’s the call, Colonel?” Sam said. Jim’s nostrils flared again.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have led with that,” Jim said, a little more humbly than Sam had honestly expected considering Sam had been joking. “Force of habit.”

Sam had to smile at that. It was getting harder and harder to hold a grudge against the guy the more time Sam spent with him, and Sam usually wasn’t one to hold grudges to begin with.

“I guess we’ll give them a minute, then?” Sam said. Jim crossed his arms and gave Sam a one-shouldered shrug, and then the two of them turned back to the door.

After another minute or two, the door opened again, and this time an otherworldly-looking woman greeted them.

“We are open to discussion, if you’ll follow us inside.”

Jim and Sam exchanged another glance to establish that they were, in fact, ready to trust the two strangers in the mansion, and then Jim unfolded his arms and nodded.

“Thanks.”

He followed her into the foyer with Sam close behind, careful not to turn around as the door shut behind them. Inside, the mansion looked as ornate and old-fashioned as Jim might have expected, especially compared to Tony’s more postmodern aesthetic. He spared a moment to assess the staircase before them, but as best as Jim could tell, it was just the four of them present in the front room, so he turned back to the mansion’s occupants.

“I probably didn’t make the best first impression,” he said. “We’re not here on behalf of the government. We’re here on behalf of the Avengers. How much do you two know about the Raft?”

[justatrainingexercise]

DC Shakedown // Maria & Jim

[justatrainingexercise]

furyslefteye:

“James,” Maria said quietly. She was in a meeting when her phone lit up, and she quickly dismissed herself. “I wish you told me you’d be coming.”

She looked over her shoulder and she kept getting curious glances from Ross. They were discussing the progress of Pleasant Hill.

“I’ll…meet you in 30. I’ll text you an address.” Maria didn’t wait for a response before hitting ‘end’. Any phone call longer than a minute felt suspicious.

“Colonel Rhodes is on his way here,” She said as she walked back in the room. “Surprise visit. Do you want me to distract him while you finish up this briefing?”

Ross looked pissed. “I thought I told him you would handle this office…yeah, keep him away. We have a lot to go over, I’ll let you know when he can come through.”

Maria nodded before grabbing her belongings and exiting the room. She texted James the address of a high-end restaurant - one with private rooms. They couldn’t risk eavesdroppers.

“I wish you told me you’d be coming.”

“I sent you an email,” Jim said flatly.

“I’ll…meet you in 30. I’ll text you an address.”

The phone pinged in his ear before he could respond, but the efficiency suited him fine. A few seconds later, he received Maria’s text and Googled the address, expecting a hotel but finding a restaurant instead -- not ideal, but he supposed Maria had her reasons for not wanting their rendezvous to be too private. 

He inhaled deeply and held it as he exited the airport terminal to find a taxi. He’d had the flight over to think on it, and yes, he had plenty of reason to be suspicious based on her email alone, but not quite enough to go in angry or to wholly mistrust Maria.  He still didn’t know what Maria thought she had to answer for or why she’d suddenly condone a prison break. Maybe the situation would be salvageable if she and Ross got an outsider opinion.

Jim frowned, staring at the window at the passing scenery without really seeing it. That was the problem, according to Sam: Jim had agreed to fall outside of the primary Raft oversight, to accept at face value that Ross would do right by the people Jim and Maria helped put in there. But Jim didn’t have access to the daily goings-on, didn’t actually know how the people inside were faring, and frankly hadn’t given it much thought. He’d done his job, and he knew the prison he’d helped design was humane and safe, but what had Maria done?

It took Jim almost forty minutes to get to the restaurant thanks to lunchtime traffic, so Maria was already there when the maître d' led him to their private dining room. He didn’t smile or speak as he approached her, instead opting to raise his hands slightly, palms up, in a subtle what the hell? gesture that he expected would convey his opening thoughts just fine.

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

dark-dimension-clea:

The Enemy of My Enemy || Rhodey, Sam W, Clea

Clea and Wong both froze when the doorbell suddenly went off one day, the old chimes echoing eerily thoughout the Sanctum Sanctorum. They hadn’t heard the sound in months, not since the SRA had passed and Stephen had started working in secret.

The two remaining residents wordlessly met in the foyer, where two shillouettes were faintly visible through the frosted windows of the front entrace.

The sorceress quickly scanned them. “It’s two humans, no traces of magic.” she said, looking over at Wong. “Should we answer?”

It was a difficult question. The passing of the SRA meant they were both fugitives of the law, and could potentially be arrested at any given moment. So far no one had been brave enough to try and target the Sanctum directly, but they both knew that could change in an instant.

However, this was still the home of the earth’s Sorcerer Supreme. It was their duty to assist anyone who came in search of aid, especially with the difficult times they were currently living in.

“Yes, we should.”

That didn’t meant they shouldn’t ensure their own safety first, however.

Clea pressed herself against the wall, out of view of the open door, but still within arm’s reach of Wong if these ‘visitors’ decided to become hostile. Her hand hovered over the sheathed dagger on her thigh, her body temsed and ready for a fight.

The front door, once open, would be their only entry point into the Sanctum; the dozen or so specialized wards that surrounded the old brownstone would prevent them from trying to enter elsewhere, or breaking the door down once it was sealed. So, in theory, all she and Wong had to do was keep them on other side of it. 

The sorceress had learned from her own rebellion, however, that things rarely ever happened according to plan. She really hoped the humans hadn’t figured out how to break past their wards, otherwise this situation was bound to get far messier than they wanted it to be.

Clea nodded to Wong and he nodded back, before slowly opening the door of the Sanctum. He kept it partially closed, his body blocking the theshold.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Truce notwithstanding, the ride to the magical mystery mansion was decidedly tense. Sam kept his eye on the passing buildings to their right in search of the sigil that was supposed to be on the front of this building, and Jim likewise kept his attention to the left. Only once they found it did either of them speak.

“Ready?” Jim said as he parked along the curb near the front of the mansion. Sam cocked his head and nodded.

“Sure, man,” Sam said. He loosed his seat belt and moved to open the door, but Jim turned in his seat toward Sam, prompting Sam to stay put.

“Hey,” Jim said. “I’m on your team here.”

Sam dropped his head against the headrest but kept his eyes on Jim.

“I know, man,” Sam said. “But Hill isn’t, and we thought she was. If even half of what she told you is true, then we all really fucked up.”

Jim dropped his gaze for a moment. It had almost become his default since he’d returned from his visit with Maria Hill in DC, during which time Stark had once again disappeared, and while it wasn’t particularly uplifting to see, Sam did appreciate that Jim had the humility not to defend the Raft or the SHRA to Sam’s face anymore.

They still had a lot left to do, though, and Jim said he had it on good authority that the people they were paying a call on were so opposed to the SHRA that they had done a good bit of covert rescue-and-relocate missions before one of them had disappeared. All Jim had said he had to go on were the files Maria had sent him, but that seemed like more than enough to go on to try and rally together a rescue mission.

“Yeah. Well.” Jim scrubbed a hand over his face, then popped his seat belt loose and opened the driver side door. “Let’s go see if these people will help us fix it.”

They approached the front door in lockstep. Jim pressed what looked to be the doorbell. They heard the deep tones of the bell through the door, and then they waited. After almost a minute, Jim and Sam swapped glances, and Jim shrugged.

“There’s no magic password or something, is there?” he said. Sam smiled, and a weight lifted that Jim only now seemed aware was there. It was almost disgusting that he cared about Sam’s approval, but with Tony almost certainly at the Raft (where else would the dumbass have disappeared to this time?), it was steadily becoming more obvious to Jim that he could probably afford to build a few more bridges.

“Dunno,” Sam said. “I’ve always wanted to open a door with ‘open sesame.’”

And then the door opened, just enough to reveal a broad and wary-looking man.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Colonel James Rhodes,” Jim said. “This is Sam Wilson. I understand you know someone in the Raft. We were hoping to talk to you about that.”

Jim could almost feel Sam rolling his eyes as he leaned over to get a better look at the guy in the door.

“What Jim means is that we want our people back, and we bet you want your people back, so let’s get our people back, you know, together. We could use all the firepower we can get.”

[flylikeafalcon]

Now the Ground Begins to Quake // Sam, Rhodey, & Tony

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

thefuturistknows:

“I’ll be fine! Finish the job.”

Tony followed Steve’s gurney until an armed soldier gestured for him to stop. Great, so the military was officially, openly involved in Raft duty now. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Steve disappeared behind a barrage of other security people whom Tony had initially assumed to be there for the Hydra captives, not Captain America.

It’s because he’s a super-soldier. That’s why. He couldn’t afford to think this was about anything else.

He allowed his helmet to retract completely, making a deliberate effort to inhale and exhale full breaths. Sam and Rhodey were arguing behind him. His mind was being blocked out of the security systems of the prison somehow. He should be able to hack back in given proper time and resources, but all this was indication that Ross had been serious about cutting Tony off.

“Jim. Will they let us see him?”

Tony was looking neither at Sharon nor Rhodey, but he still tuned in for Rhodey’s response as if that was a naïve question he had just asked himself. He already knew the answer. He still had to close his eyes when he heard it.

He turned just in time to catch Rhodey’s glance, then he looked at Sam and Sharon then back again and they were all quiet for a second and this is where Tony should come in and say something self-assured and practical and right. But nothing came to him. It was such a stupid thing to worry about at this stage, whether he’d be able to live up to his image, but it seemed like the lies were all he still had and he couldn’t even do them any justice.

Sam, Sharon and Rachel headed toward the jet. Tony’s eyes followed them, and then the aircraft as it took off, and new alarms starting going off inside his head. Sam could very easily end up being the next Steve Rogers in this story. Tony bit the inside of his cheek and just for a second his expression reflected the fear inspired by that scenario before it settled back onto something more neutral when he focused back on Rhodey.

“I can go deal with this if you wanna get some rest.”

Tony shook his head, pursed his lips, and under different circumstances he might have even smiled.

Jim. Jim was something he still had, besides the lies.

He wasn’t sure he could take up Rhodey’s offer, though – Ross would most likely want to talk to him soon, and even if he didn’t, Tony wouldn’t let Rhodey take any of this heat on his own. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, then stepped up toward Rhodey, only stopping when he was close enough to talk to him using barely more than whispers.

“You saw him,” Tony said. He broke eye contact and looked down and then to the side, and Am I crazy? he wanted to ask. Am I crazy or are they really starving him? “They know everything we know. About him. About his body, about what he needs. Why’s he—” Not getting it? Tony swallowed back the rest of the question once he couldn’t get it out. “You’d tell me if I was losing my mind, right? If I was being paranoid? Right?” He couldn’t stomach the image of Steve being purposely and deliberately starved. “Tell me I’m just being paranoid.”

By unspoken agreement, Rachel took the helm of the jet, leaving Sharon and Sam to themselves by the loading ramp as it folded into the jet’s belly. Neither of them bothered to take a seat as the jet rose through the hatch at the top of the Raft; instead, Sam folded his arms and looked to Sharon.

“This is bullshit. You know it’s bullshit.”

Sharon smiled sadly.

“Yeah. But Rhodes knows the game better than any of us…”

“Uh-uh,” Sam said, stepping in close. “You saw him, Sharon. You saw the shape he’s in. I’m not saying Rhodes is on it, but there’s probably more going on then he knows about. Could be a SHIELD-HYDRA thing all over again.”

They fell into a tense silence for a moment as the rest of Sam’s statement went loudly unspoken: and if he does know what’s going on – if he is in on it – I’ll get it out of him.

Then Sharon lowered her gaze and shook her head.

“We have to trust Rhodes. And Hill. The whole reason they were brought in was to keep things above board, wasn’t it?”

“Seriously? You’re siding with them now?”

“I’m not siding with anybody, Sam!”

“Bullshit! You gave Steve that intel, you knew he would act on it, you didn’t tell any of us – do you know what they’re doing to him in there? Huh? You know anything I don’t?”

Sam stood his ground as Sharon stepped back, though he did feel a pang of guilt as she glared at him with wounded eyes. But he was sick and fucking tired of signing up for causes only to learn they were a farce, and he had to know how real this one was.

“He made his choice, Sam,” she finally said. “You don’t get to pin that on me. He wouldn’t.”

Sam sighed, dropped his chin, nodded.

“Yeah. Okay. All right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m…yeah.”

He sighed again, and this time he actually felt himself deflate a little. He was still looking toward his feet when Sharon stepped back toward him and lay her hands on his still-crossed arms. After a moment, he unfurled his arms and raised his hands palm-to-palm with hers. She laced her fingers through his, and he nodded again.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I know,” she said. “Me, too.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. We’ll figure this out.”

This time, Sharon sighed. “I need to drop Rachel off at HQ.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Do you need to head back, too?”

“I should. But if you need me to go with you…”

Sam shrugged. “Nah. We’re just gonna talk.”

Sharon raised an eyebrow.

“I promise,” Sam added sincerely. “Call me when you clock out.”

“Okay,” Jim said. “You’re being paranoid. He might be on hunger strike or some shit, but he’s not being starved.”

Jim turned his eye warily to the guards lining the room, then nodded to Tony and flipped his face plate back down. When he responded, it was through their internal comms.

“Prisons aren’t designed to keep people comfortable, Tones,” Jim said, solemn and serious. “But we can touch base with Hill. As far as I know, she’s still involved in Raft operations. Either way, he does kinda look like shit.”

Behind the face plate, Jim closed his eyes and sighed, then took off for the Avengers facility. The Raft was already sinking back into the Atlantic almost as soon as they cleared the hanger doors, and Jim couldn’t ignore that some of his certainty in the Raft’s inner workings was going down with it. He was still sure that signing the SHRA, building the Raft, and even bringing Steve in (both times) were all the right play, but maybe he’d gotten complacent. He’d trusted Maria to keep him in the loop with the day-to-day, but had he really had reason enough to?

“This is bad, man,” Jim said. “We have one HYDRA guy who can still talk, and if it’s Steve’s word against his, I don’t know that Ross will give Steve the benefit of the doubt. The best thing we can do is find him a really, really good lawyer and try to get his trial to happen sooner rather than later.”

Try. Unacceptable. Tony was well past trying, and Jim knew it. Do or do not and all of that.

[flylikeafalcon]

Now the Ground Begins to Quake // Sam, Rhodey, & Tony

[justatrainingexercise]

flylikeafalcon:

[Immediately follows the events of Various Methods of Escape.]

It was with no small amount of chagrin that Sam stood by as the Raft personnel wheeled Steve away, and he made that chagrin clear when he turned to Jim.

“You feel good about throwing him in here twice?” he said. 

Jim’s face plate was up before Sam had finished his sentence.

“There’s a full medical ward here, Sam,” Jim said, as close to nose-to-nose with Sam as he could get in the War Machine suit. “This is literally what you signed up for.”

“I signed up to save my dumbass friend,” Sam said, jabbing a finger at the door through which Steve had just been taken, “and this kinda the opposite of that.”

“How? He’s fine in here – ”

“He’s lost at least fifteen pounds!”

“– it’s prison, not the goddamn Ritz!”

They were both almost shouting now, which Sam only noticed when Sharon took hold of his arm.

“Jim,” she said. “Will they let us see him?”

Wow. Jim was very not in the mood for this.

“I very much doubt it since he just established himself as a flight risk,” Jim said. “He -- ”

“Oh, hell no,” Sam interjected, “let’s not act like he would have left if a bunch of HYDRA thugs hadn’t broken in -- ”

“Sam,” Sharon said firmly. She locked eyes with Sam, and Jim openly frowned as they had some kind of silent conversation that he couldn’t follow.

Fine. Two could play at that game. He swiveled around toward Tony with full intent to roll his eyes or otherwise express his frustration, but as soon as he caught sight of Tony, Jim’s defenses dropped.

In truth, Jim was tired and torn. Bringing Steve back to the Raft was a decision that had been made for both of them when Jim had registered and Steve hadn’t, whether Jim liked it or not -- and he certainly liked it less and less as he watched Tony fall apart behind the scenes and Sam get in his face in the middle of the Raft hanger. But the fact that Steve still thought he had the right to act as a free agent -- leaving the facility, stealing a government helicopter, flying into foreign airspace unannounced -- was proof positive that he needed to be reigned in. Just because he couldn’t level a building like the Scarlet Witch didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

Right?

Jim was sure he telegraphed all of that to Tony before he blinked slowly and cocked his head in a gesture that read “let’s get this over with.” They all clearly had some shit to air out, and if Sam wanted to do that here and now, Jim wasn’t going to back down.

But when he turned back to Sam, he and Sharon were already pulling back.

“We’ll meet you at the upstate facility,” Sam said shortly, and then he turned on his heel and returned to the jet Sharon and Rachel had flown in. After a beat, Sharon gestured for Rachel to follow, and the two of them joined Sam.

Jim waited until they were in the air before he turned to Tony again.

“I can go deal with this if you wanna get some rest,” he said. As much as he wanted Tony to back him up, he also knew Tony was already juggling enough bullshit on the front lines. Seemed like the least Jim could do was handle the in-fighting backstage.

[justatrainingexercise]

DC Shakedown // Maria & Jim

Jim took the first commercial flight out of New York to DC the morning after receiving Maria’s emails. He had barely left the terminal before he had his phone to his ear to call Maria.

“Hill. I just touched down at Dulles International. I’ll buy you lunch if you wanna tell me what the hell you and Ross did.”

[furyslefteye]

Encrypted Messages from Maria Hill

[justatrainingexercise]

furyslefteye:

FROM: “Maria Hill” <HIDDEN ADDRESS> TO:  “James Rhodes” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “Tony Stark” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “HIDDEN RECIPIENT” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “Natasha Romanoff” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “Margaret Carter” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “Hank McCoy” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>, “Elizabeth Ross” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>

Subject: An Opportunity

These are the last email addresses I have for all of you. I’m sure you all know in varying degrees the damage the Registration Act has caused. There are many people who can take the blame for this - myself included. Bottom line is: General Ross needs to be stopped.

In two days, I will be holding a press conference in Washington around 9:00am EST. Ross has a meeting the morning with the president slated for the same time.

During the conference, all the security measures on the Raft will be lifted. If you know anyone still imprisoned, I suggest you all arrange a rescue team. There will be other ‘heroes’ stranded as well.

Spread this to whoever you trust.

Maria Hill

– –

FROM: “Maria Hill” <HIDDEN ADDRESS> TO: “James Rhodes” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>

Subject: [NO SUBJECT]

James,

I haven’t been entirely honest with you about everything General Ross and I have been doing. If you can’t make the conference, I’ll send you a copy of my speech before the event starts.

Maria Hill

– –

FROM: “Maria Hill” <HIDDEN ADDRESS> TO: “Tony Stark” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>

Subject: [NO SUBJECT] ONE ATTACHMENT

Tony,

I apologise now if my upcoming actions are going to be a PR nightmare for the Avengers, and anyone else affiliated. I’ll try my best to deal with everything on the Washington front, but I know you’ll probably want to join in as well.

Attached is a file that will take you directly to a ‘hidden’ database where Ross was hiding all of his and Shield’s darkest secrets. I don’t know how much you know already, but this is the worst of it. Tread carefully.

Maria Hill

– –

FROM: “Maria Hill” <HIDDEN ADDRESS> TO: “Virginia Potts” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>

Subject: Letter of Resignation

Pepper,

I am resigning from Stark Industries effective immediately.

I’m sorry.

Maria Hill

Jim sat back in his seat, his arms half-crossed and a fist pressed to this mouth, and read Maria’s emails twice more before sitting back up to reply.  He frowned at the screen for a while as he mentally filtered through what he wanted to say, than sighed and lowered his face to his hands. Maybe if he scrubbed his face hard enough, he could un-see all of this.

He hadn’t been strong-armed into working on the Raft; he’d be the first to assert that. He’d agreed because he’d believed the SRA was their best of very few options for curbing public mistrust and keeping rogue agents like the Scarlet Witch and Vision in check. He’d agreed because he believed the SRA was, at its root, fair and just.

So what pissed him off wasn’t the unwitting role he’d played in whatever Ross and Maria had cooked up -- he’d been as duped as everyone else -- but that Maria had apparently fucked up so badly that she, Maria Hill, had openly recommended a prison rescue. Whatever she had inculcated him and Tony and everyone else in must be pretty fucking bad, and she’d watched him put their friends in Ross’s hands without saying a word until now.

(Or maybe she hadn’t; Jim was willing to bet the hidden recipient was Steve, just as he was willing to bet Steve wasn’t going to see this email for a long, long time. He wasn’t sure which option would be more infuriating.)

But he had plenty to say to her. When he raised his head and lowered his hands to the keyboard, however, his reply was terse.

FROM: “James Rhodes” <HIDDEN ADDRESS> TO: “Maria Hill” <HIDDEN ADDRESS>

Subject: RE: [NO SUBJECT]

I’ll be there.

The rest could wait until he got to DC.

[a-man-outof-time]

Various Methods of Escape // Steve, Tony, Rhodey, Sharon, Sam

[justatrainingexercise]

thefuturistknows:

“I will say this about Stark facility lockdowns,” Ross said. “They really won’t let anyone through.”

Stark could feel Ross pacing behind him, even though he wasn’t looking. His eyes were stuck to the screens where selected bits of recent Raft security footage were playing.

“Not even when we need people to get through,” he continued. “Unless they’re Hydra, of course.”

Schmidt and Rumlow had no scruples, and that was hardly surprising – Stark’s shoulders tensed and he closed his eyes briefly as a reflex to the headshot and spray of blood that was caught on tape. He then noticed with his peripheral vision that Ross stepped up so they were standing side by side. Tony shoved his nervous hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, he’d been caught by surprise and was woefully underdressed.

“What happened, Stark?”

In corporate jargon, something Stark would refer to as a situation.

Jim couldn’t do much more than watch as Tony was escorted to the hanger, though he already knew he was going to be talking to Tony as soon as he got his clearance to go --

“Colonel Rhodes.”

Jim stopped walking and saluted Ross as he entered the hallway.

“I'm arranging a twelve-man SWAT team to pursue Rogers and Rumlow. I need you to debrief them ASAP.”

Jim didn’t bother trying to mask his disbelief.

“Sir, I’m more than prepared to -- ”

“Consider it a favor that I’m not sending you,” Ross interjected. “This is a dead-or-alive retrieval, and far be it from me to ask you to put your job before your vigilante buddies.”

Ross was giving Jim his best steely-eyed, stone-jawed I fucking dare you to fucking fuck with me glare.

Jim didn’t even blink.

“Unless that’s twelve SWAT for Rogers and Rumlow each, Sir, that’s not enough -- and, unless you know exactly where they’re headed, we don’t have time to drag that many people around for the search. I’ll have a team ready and up in the time it takes you to prep the fifty men you’d need just to find the door.”

Jim really, truly did get a kick out of the particular shade of red Ross turned when his bluff had been called. Ross stepped in close; Jim held his ground.

“To be clear: Stark has just been relieved of duty. So. If all of you don’t want to end up on trial for collusion, then you will retrieve every last one of those sons of bitches, and you will not hesitate to bring them back in body bags if you have to. Understood?”

Jim indulged in a few seconds of staring-off before he answered.

“Yes. Sir.”

Jim threw up a quick salute, then turned on his heel to return to the hanger, which was now devoid of Tony’s copter, and climbed back into the War Machine armor. His first instinct was to call Tony, but with the clock ticking, he started with Sharon.

“Agent Sharon Carter.”

“It’s Rhodes. I need a team ready to rendezvous ASAP, coordinates TBD. We’re looking at Rogers, Rumlow, and at least five metahuman hostiles. Got anyone?”

“I might. Have you called Sam?”

“Wilson? He’s not registered.”

Sharon paused but didn’t push the issue.

“No other heavy hitters? What about Vision? Rescue?”

“Tony’s en route,” Jim said (he didn’t need confirmation to suspect that was true), “and Vision’s on probation. I’ll try Pepper en route. I’ll send you the coordinates as soon as I have them -- just call whoever you can.”

“On it.”

“Sharon. Ross doesn’t care if any of them come back dead.”

Sharon was silent for a moment.

“Get going,” Sharon said, “and bring him back.”

As it turned out, Pepper wasn’t yet cleared for combat, so Jim was already on the phone with Tony by the time he was ready to take off and in the air as soon as Tony passed on Steve’s coordinates. (Ross’s loss, benching Tony.) His suit wasn’t streamlined enough to achieved supersonic flight, but he pushed the limit as he shot over the Atlantic toward the Swiss Alps.

“What is it with HYDRA and the fucking tundra,” Jim grumbled to himself as he landed next the to helicopter Steve must have taken. Sharon was due to arrive within the hour, but that was hour Jim couldn’t afford to waste if Steve was really stupid enough to face up to seven combatants by himself -- and Steve absolutely was stupid enough.

He relayed his location to Sharon and Tony, then made his way into the mountainside complex. From there, it was déjà vu all over again, only this time he found Steve wearing barely more than pajamas as he fought not one but three...super-soldiers?

“Oh-kay, that’s enough.”

Jim raised an arm and fired three taser shells in succession. The first two landed, providing enough of a shock to at least stun the two soldiers, but the third fighter dodged it. Before Jim could fire again, something slammed into his side and exploded, forcing him to one knee.

“The hell -- ”

“There’s a sniper!” Steve yelled. He was panting, and that sure wasn’t a good sign. “And two more -- unf -- ”

Steve didn’t resume his thought, but Jim had the gist of it: two more hostiles, a sniper, plus Rumlow and the woman. The blow to his side had to have been some kind of armor-piercing round; the HUD was relaying a breach on Jim’s right side, and he could feel a lag in the armor’s right leg as a result.

“We got back-up incoming,” Jim said, though he had already switched to lethal ammunition. Fuck this noise. “Just stay on your feet ‘til they get here.”

Somewhere behind him, Jim heard a wet, heaving cough, but no answer.