#thewinglesshawk

[onceupxnadecember]

[timelessxsoldier]

Take Your Best Shot || Steve and Clint

As much as Steve tended to be team oriented, he understood that some members didn't want to be here. 

The city was in the middle of a crisis, not to mention SHIELD had practically disbanded. So truthfully, they didn't have to come - not really. And although Steve didn't always pick up on the little things, there was an aura of discontent that filled Stark tower even more than the last time they were assembled. 

Some members had other obligations and allegiances - to SHIELD mostly. And working through the corruption and infiltration was difficult enough, especially with every secret they'd ever kept being streamed on the internet. H'ed captured a little bit of insight, courtesy of Natasha - though her secrets were well reserved for specific times. 

That being said, his relationship with other team members were shaky at best, and he was sure there was some speculation about the nature of his relationship with Agent Romanoff. As far as he could tell, the others tended to be indifferent, keeping to themselves. Though there were a few exceptions. Steve spent his time attempting to make plan, strategies really, for a more effective way to be a team - one that may bring out a little more trust in the people that were supposed to be working together. 

But their team seemed to be less than cohesive, and the Captain was quick to blow off steam. Everyone around seemed to have strong personalities, and sometimes, it wasn't worth arguing - not really. And although his time with Natasha was savored, he didn't want to put yet another thing on her - because as much as she kept a strong face on, he had a feeling that her patience with him would soon wear thin. And perhaps that was pessimistic, but with all that had been happening, it surely wouldn't surprise him. 

Frustrated with the way his thoughts were getting the best of him, Steve made his way to the gym close to the ground floor of the tower, seeking out something - anything that would relieve his nerves. Surely there would be punching bags, though he'd learned fairly quick that those wouldn't withstand his strength for more than a few minutes. 

So he found himself standing on the hard floor, met with someone who looked equally as frustrated. And maybe it was just the way he channeled his concentration - though, Steve was hesitant to disturb him. 

"Training for the Olympics?" he asked, taking his best shot at something that may be humorous. Hell, any conversation was appreciated. 

[fxlconsnest]

with these wings || Clint and Sam

“How sweet of you.” Sam purses his lips, then let’s out a long sigh. No point in being angry. There’s plenty worse people who could have walked in, and Clint’s only looking at him with awe and fascination. For now, there’s nothing to fear (that's wrong, but he wants to trust Clint. So he will). Sam rolls back his shoulders and his feathers flutter, shuddering with relief, loosing up the tension built from grueling training and the general stress of being here.

(Sam thinks he’ll need to get away. Get away, far, and soon).

“It’s okay, ” his wry grin doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but the sincerity is clear as day, “You can touch them. Been bundled up all day.” The room isn’t big enough for Sam to stretch out completely, and his breath quickens imperceptibly. Everything just feels tight and small all over. He wants to run, stretch his wings, and fly like he was meant to.

His plumage seems to flutter, primary’s twitching as if they were fingers. He may be able to hide his expression on his face, but his wings never fail to give him away.

[fxlconsnest]

Wings: Clint arched his brows slightly as he looked at the appendages. He'd heard things about mutations... about things that no one really talked about. " The Falcon really does have wings," He mused with surprise.

"There's this thing that you do where you knock before entering, man." Sam says, voice dry. His wings stretch out automatically as he straightens, steely grey wingtips brushing the walls. Sam's fingers twisted into his shirt clutched in his hands. "Yeah," he says quietly, "The Falcon's got wings. Jealous?" He's being overly flippant, trying to quell the sudden panic that rises in his breast. No one's supposes to know about this.