Monthly Archives: December 2013

He tilts his head at her in amusement. A smirk donning his features. “So you’re the one Starks mentioned about.” ((I’m just gonna have Loki be a shit and ruin you and gadgets lives xD Also. Hai.))

raventheprinceofmischief:

iamthefirechild:

iamthefirechild:

Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”

She starts to laugh. He sounds so … familiar, with those words. Just a frustrated sibling, jealous of his older brother. “You sound like me,” she manages, knowing he’ll be offended at the comparion, but unable to help herself.

His brow twitches as she laughs though he can’t help but smirk a little at her. “Or is it that you sound just like me,” he counters back as he finally sits on a chair opposite to her. 

“Either. Both. It’s a sibling thing, what you said.” A few more giggles erupt from her mouth. “A family thing. The people who’ve known you the longest … ” She stops, for a second, and gulps in a breath, and begins again, slower. “They can’t see it. Change. It’s so small, in front of them, so they can’t see it. Like watching grass grow.”

gadgeteerphilanthropist:

iamthefirechild:

“That /would/ be a mild heart attack. How’d it get stuck in the armor, then? Aren’t you wearing it under the bodysuit?” She reached up and fingered the medallion.

“Nah; I was working on the Mark VIII, not actually wearing VII.  The chain got caught on the gauntlet and the clasp snapped.”  He reached back to hook one finger in the back of the chain, tugging lightly.  “Haven’t actually replaced the chain yet; it’s just held on with a paperclip right now.”

“I’ve got lots of chains, I’ll go get you one.” Summer didn’t really wait for his answer, just turned on a heel and bounced off toward the elevator. “What colour?”

theengineer-fitz:

iamthefirechild:

Folding her arms, Summer watched him twitch over the table. “That’s good … there a reason why you aren’t telling me the whole truth?” She tilted her head to the side. “Would you rather talk about it somewhere else?” One hand indicated the lab. “I’m not asking about it just for gossip’s sake.”

He balked at that, narrowing his eyes. There was something about her tone that sounded accusatory. “I am telling you the whole truth, thank you very much,” he snapped back. He caught his tone and then softened it to be businesslike. “Things are going well. We’ve go’ a lo’ of unique agens’ with unique talens’. There a reason SHIELD’s come asking after Agen’ Coulson?”

Reaching out, she put her hands over his wrists. “Someone has to watch out for people who go through traumatic situations. That’s me. I don’t think you can deny that Phil Coulson went through a traumatic situation. He died. I’ll be talking to him, too, don’t worry.” Summer squeezed slightly and let go, folding her hands behind her back. “Can we try this again, please? I want to know how things are going with /you/.”

вєуση∂ тнє νєιℓ || open.

turpisvirtute:

iamthefirechild:

The child, spying from a shadowed corner, twitches back further into the darkness at the prince’s raised voice. But it listens hard, paying attention to every word, to the smallest nuances — after all, it’s already seen what will happen if the mistress isn’t pleased.

The children’s nightmares are full of fire.

So it creeps out just a little, listening as hard as ever it can, and waits to follow the dark prince back out to the surface.

       ”If she sent you to follow me, you’re doing a horrible job,” Mordred says, a smirk dancing around his lips as he turned his head towards the shadows. Mordred’s cloaks brushed against his ankles as the breeze from the stairwell hit him and he looked up towards the landing at the top. Suddenly, the man reached out, taking the boy by the scruff of the collar.

      For a moment, he says nothing, just standing there as his cold gaze fixed on the boy’s face, lifting him from the ground. “Tell her, she is going to have to find her own way out, because she isn’t getting out with me.”

The child yelps and kicks out, hopelessly. It bares its teeth, and then Summer steps out of the shadows at the top of the stairs. “If you’re going to kill it, get on with it or let me do it.” She takes a step down, and another, completely disregarding the dragging of her skirts through the mess of the floor.

The child yelps again, and its struggles redouble. “Please, please,” it pants out, whimpering.

“And then we can talk about how you think you’re going to prevent me from taking the same path you do. If you find it.”

turpisvirtute:

iamthefirechild:

When she finally scrambled down to the narrow beach, Summer looped the reins of her horse over a convenient pillar which showed signs of being used that way many times before. She barely glanced at Mordred, pacing down to the water’s edge. After a moment staring out over the water, she pulled her shoes off and stepped down into the waves. The wind from the ocean swirled her hair, mostly fallen out of the braid, around her back and shoulders like a bright banner.

There was something easing to her soul about that place, standing between sea and sand, sun and sky. Summer stood there for a long time, face tipped up to the sky, until the last tension eased out of her body.

      The knight had only just reached the sands when he noticed she had placed herself in the water, and for awhile he sat, perched atop his horse, watching, waiting. For what, he did not know, but for something. Perhaps maybe, deep down he knew that Morgana may just send her men this far west. Only if she needed or wanted something so desperately.

      Eventually, the knight jumps down from his horse, lingering on the beach as he watched her and the surrounding tree line, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“What are you so tense about?” Summer said finally, turning to Mordred. “You aren’t paying any attention to me. There’s no one out here but us.” She put her hand over his on the hilt, then leaned her head on his shoulder.

xavierrud:

iamthefirechild:

Her mouth compressed at his admission. “That,” she said, “is why I’m asking you. Because I don’t /want/ you getting in your car and wrecking it.” She untangled her fingers from his collar, putting both hands back on her hips. “Come on, Xavier. I’m your friend. I care about you. So just tell me.”

{♙} — ; “No.” Simple worded answer, and his body’s defense mechanism kicked in then so he wouldn’t give off any tell-tale emotions, just went blank like he had done the other day with T… that guy.

“Oh, god, Xavier, please don’t make me force you,” she pleaded, voice breaking in the middle. Summer reached out again, putting a hand on his arm. “Xavier. I know … you’re hurt. Please, please just tell me so I can make it right.”