i'm amazed by how much great feedback this is getting! it really means the world to me that so many people are taking an interest in my stuff!
Love you guys, and enjoy! It' a little longer than the last few! :D
~Chapter 3
"What is this thing you call an 'oven'?" Thor questions curiously, peering at the contraption in front of him. After multiple times of breaking things, Tony had told him to ask Pepper about things he had no knowledge on before touching them.
Tony almost feels bad that he landed such a taxing job on Pepper, along with all the other work she had piled on top just from Stark Industries alone.
"It's for cooking, Thor." Pepper replies with a smile. "You know, almost like a campfire in a box," She says, trying to simplify it in a way he might understand. Thor isn't stupid by any means, but Pepper still feels as if she's explaining things to a child.
A large, very buff, very strong, and almost scary child- but a child nonetheless.
"Ahh… so one might roast a poptart in there, yes?"
"I'd say just use the toaster, but I think it might be broken." Pepper can't help but smirk. Though she wasn't fond of having to constantly replace things, she was always cheered up by the reaction supplied by Tony as one of his favorite gadgets was destroyed without a second thought.
"Indeed. The silvery contraption has toasted its last piece of sustenance—that was undoubtedly the most delectable 'bacon'." Thor says thoughtfully. "I do like this bacon."
"You made bacon in the toaster?" Tony says, eyes wide. Pepper can't tell if he's in awe or if he's horrified, but she still cracks a smile at the look on his face.
Thor nods, saying, "Before leaving, Clint was kind enough to tell me which piece of metal did what."
Now Pepper can clearly tell that Tony is horrified as she struggles not to laugh. Tony was getting what he deserved, and for once it wasn't coming from her. She would have to thank Clint when he came back.
"You remember when I made those fruit-filled beverages for all of the team."
Pepper is suddenly glad she didn't partake in that smoothie movie night.
"Clint had informed me to use this blending invention in the water spout." Thor seems proud that he knows his appliances, but Tony couldn't seem more terrified.
"You mean the garbage disposal…"
*(*)*
Something had told Clint he needed to run. And he needed to run now.
It's hard to run in snow, but Clint had lifted some snow boot prototypes from the tower, and they seemed to be doing a good job, as he wasn't sinking in more than an inch.
He hears them know, hiding up in the trees, using the thick branches and snow as a camouflage that was nearly perfect.
Clint swears to himself as bullets start flying. He shouldn't have let his thoughts about Tasha distract him. Now he was in a bit of a snag. He zigzags back and forth, shooting down whoever he saw as he moved quickly.
He ducks as a bolt from a crossbow whizzes over his head.
Crossbows? Seriously? He thinks internally. They were just cramping his style now. Archaic weapons are his thing.
He stops behind a tree, breathing hard as he nocks another arrow and lets it fly quickly, then starts running again. The trees thickened a bit ahead right before the edge of the mountain, so if he got there-.
Pain slams into him and he very nearly falls forward with the force of it, and he knows someone got lucky and hit him right where his Kevlar ended. The bolt had buried itself probably an inch or more into his shoulder, not rendering it completely useless, but he would have trouble shooting his bow for a while.
He stumbles forward and gets behind cover again for a moment to assess the damage.
He hadn't been hit by a bullet, which was good, but instead by a bolt from a cross bow. It did less damage, but was just as painful.
Clint steels himself and grasps the arrow, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He tears it out with a swift movement, tossing the bolt aside as his head spins. He knows that leaving it there would decrease his chances of dying from blood loss, but if they were using crossbows, it's likely they had some sort of poison on them. He'd have a better chance facing blood loss than he would poison. He could fight against that. Poison is a whole different story.
But he had to keep running.
So run he would, even as he felt blood dripping down his back, and freezing a minute later. He'd run, and hope to the Gods there weren't more waiting for him there.
*(*)*
Natasha knows very well how to act around those that consider themselves noble.
Russia is a proud country, and its people acted as such, some in a bad way, some in a good way.
Here, she was amongst those who were mostly the bad type of pruod. The ignorant, self centered, I'm-better-than-you kind.
So she would swirl the contents of her wine goblet, and laugh at even the worst of jokes, hoping that her recently hair color change and dark makeup would keep anyone with a good memory from recognizing her face.
Times like these made her wish she had Clint next to her. They made a very convincing couple when they worked at it, and though Clint had barely any understanding of the Russian language, she valued his input on the conversations (though she had to translate for him most the time) to be helpful in getting information discretely.
But she is also glad Clint isn't with her. He would be put in danger, and though that is nothing new for him, she didn't want that kind of red on her ledger if he was hurt or killed. Not while she was trying her hardest to blot out the biggest contribution on it.
"Miss Aristov!"
That's her que.
*(*)*
Never in his life, was Hawkeye more than happy to climb a tree. Even though it tugged at his now burning wound, and made it hard for him to properly breath, he couldn't have enjoyed the feeling of being high up and away from his enemies more.
To seal the deal, he draws one last arrow, and with shaking hands, pulls back the string, aiming at the side of a smaller mountain as his pursuers kept running, following the blood trail he'd left.
He lets it loose, and it flies striahgt, buries itself in the snow.
It explodes and snow flies, as the balance is interrupted and snow tumbles down the mountain in a sizable avalanche.
Hawkeye watches as the snow consumes the men hungrily, burying them far deeper than they could dig themselves out.
He lets out a sigh as no new faces appear and decides it's safe for him to treat his injury.
Clint shrugs off his white, now stained red snow jacket, and sets it aside.
He had a first aid kit somewhere in his small satchel, and sets about digging to find it while the throbbing in his shoulder increases as the adrenaline wears off. He'd be feeling that in the morning, that's for sure.
He tears open a pack of pressure pads (another medical achievement produced by none other than Stark and Banner) and presses it on the still furiously bleeding wound. It had been medicated with some sort of drug with a long name to help fight any infection that might pop up while out in the field and a hospital is out of the question.
He lets out a breath as the pain increases despite the pain killers he popped half a second ago, and realizes just how drowsy he is.
But that's odd…he slept for nearly a full day in preparation for the hike up the mountain, and those pain killers never made him sleepy before.
A realization hits him and he manages to slur out one word.
"Damn."
muahahahaha... i am so evil :D but alas, when I leave you with big cliffhangers, i'll give you some srt of way to get a cookie and todays challenge is...
Guess my favorite color on your first try and you get a sneak peek of what happens next! You only get one try, so choose wisely! it's not an off the wall color, but i change my fav a lot, so if you creeped on my profile yesterday, that's not right, because i never changed it on there XD
anyways, who else wants a smoothie made by Thor?
I know Tony does (i be trolling)
right, so anyways, another big thanks to everyone who wrote me a review, added to favs or alerts, or is reading this right now! :D i love you all for your support, and if it keeps up, i can keep updating for you daily!
:D
love,
gilraenstar :D
P.S. don't forget to try your hand at guessing! but if you're anonymous, i can't get you a cookie (i'm sorry!) because there's no way for me to PM you so you can read it! D: sorry!