Dec 19, 2012
Agent Morse.
I'd like to have a word with you...
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from India
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Mexico
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
Agent Morse.
I'd like to have a word with you...
Brandon was sitting in his cell, running a bolt through his hands, he couldn't do much more, the cell having been made for people with his powers, but at least it kept him amused. He knew it wouldn't take long for Greer to come and help him, he had faith in her. The bruising had blossomed over his jaw, but he knew it wouldn't take long to heal, he never had bruises for long anyway. He sighed, he missed Jeremy.
After the events of the past night, when he got back home and started working on his gift to Bobbi as a desperate attempt to distract himself, Tony realized that visiting her today wouldn’t be as pleasurable as it would be convenient. He had a Vanity Fair interview at two, so he really needed a chance to just step out of his own world and practice his wide array of fake smiles. What better excuse than a friend in need? Especially considering how he was partially responsible for what was wrong between her and Clint? Tony could tell that his situation was bad when he realized that dealing with that guilt was about infinity times easier than dwelling on Pepper’s resignation, and the events that had led up to it.
He had texted Bobbi at ten in the morning, panicking when his cell phone rang, until he realized it was just Jeanne telling him he didn’t have to worry about meetings for the day, which was great, considering his massive hangover. He still didn’t feel or look well when he set off to Bobbi’s place, but he didn’t want to be alone, not that he would ever admit it. In one pocket, he had the sophisticated USB drive he would give Bobbi (a very simplified version of J.A.R.V.I.S., which could be connected to her home network so that she could voice-command all her electronics. He’d also uploaded all of the items of the list she’d sent him), and in the other, he carried a polished steel flask containing what was left of the Macallan scotch Pepper had got at Sotheby’s the other day, just in case Bobbi didn’t offer anything to drink. He knocked on Bobbi’s door and waited for her to answer, running a hand through his hair and adjusting the lapels of his jacket, which he was only wearing because he thought he’d be heading off straight to the interview after this.
Calling Bobbi
Tony: [taps fingers on his desk as he waits for Bobbi to pick up]
Roses
The cafe was only small, pretty busy, but she'd managed to snag a table for herself and Bobbi. She waited with a cup of mocha on the go. She was looking forward to chatting with Bobbi again, it was just a shame about the whole thing between her and Clint. Tasha had already decided not to bring it up unless Bobbi wanted to talk about it, she could imagine it was painful for both of them.
She took a sip of her coffee, Bobbi should be here soon.
#ugh kill me.
.... what's with the couple of extra metal legs there? What happened?
Peter closed his books and stretched his arms at his desk. It was evening, and after all the homework he felt like he needed some down time. Maybe some CoD would help him out.
However, instead of being holed up in his room again, he decided that it would be better if he went out. Then again, he knew that going out alone was boring, so he decided to give Molly a call.
As he picked up his cellphone, the thought of Bobbi also crossed his mind. It was her he usually called at times like this, but ever since what happened with her and Max, he hasn't spoken to her.
Peter called up Molly, but all he got was ringing. He tried a couple more times and got the same thing. He tried calling up her home number. No one answered.
Peter wondered if Molly had gone and disappeared again, and now he wondered for what reason this time. He suited up and jumped off his balcony to scour the city.
I, Phillip J. Coulson, do hereby resign from SHIELD effective immediately.
It has come to my attention that I am not fit to run this organization, and would like to pursue interests where I'm actually, you know, needed.
Clint, Bobbi, Wade, I hope you are happy with this out come.
I wish you well.
- Phil Coulson