#worthystill

her  new  job  is  a  promise  that  she's  doing  something  good.  dealing  with  bad  people,  and  mostly  they  are.  but  this  isn't  what  she  was  forged  to  do,  never  was.  so  today's  assignment  is  strange.  it's  a  high  risk,  but  she's  not  sent  in  first.  others,  that  aren't  immortal,  are  the  bait.  she  wears  her  tactical  clothes,  face  hidden,  only  her  eyes  out.  apparently  she  was  to  catch  the  target  off  guard,  but  only  now  she  finds  he's  immortal  too.  sighing,  sif  approaches  ever  so  careful  once  she's  given  the  go.  it's  a  bloodbath,  and  after  a  few  steps  in,  her  sword  up,  she's  surprised  by  a  strong  arm  over  her  neck.  groaning,  sif  moves  her  weapon  in  a  swift  move,  sliding  it  against  her  attacker's  side.

Hospitals. He loathed when assignments involved hospitals, but this wasn't an assignment. No, this was personal. The attempts to track him down had been obvious, and blocked, for his own good. But after reading the report that Thor's helicopter went down, Loki was done with the company line.

Even in a hospital gown, his brother's frame was still formidable. He'd gained considerable muscle since Loki saw him last, and that had been... some time ago. Loki himself had also changed. The way he carried his body, the way he assessed every room disguised as a cursory glance. Funny how it was easier to learn all there was to know about every staff member who ventured near his brother, easier to pay off every medical bill the instant it arose, than it was to say, I'm sorry. How the hell was he supposed to explain his line of work? The skills he'd developed? He'd been referred to his operative name, Trickster, for so damned long, he was starting to forget what his own sounded like on someone else's tongue.

The touch was solid, comforting - given the moment. Now if only it lasted just a second longer. His observation breaks the silence between them. A soft 'hm?' head tilting down towards the obvious bloodstain on her upper arm, followed by an 'oh.' equally as low.

❝ Looks like I am- ❞

She shifts, positioning herself in better lighting. Slipping her arm out just enough for the area to be tended to. She's concerned about how much she's been bleeding through; this wasn't the first refresh and she's afraid this wouldn't be the last. Even though she tries not to let it show, it's quickly given away by her scrunched brows.

Claire looks at Thor with her eyebrows somewhere in her hairline. She's screaming the number 4 at him, then the colour red, and he's not tuning in to her frequency. It's a bust. It takes her another beat to register that psychic isn't telepathic. Oh. Fuck. Now she's the one frowning in confusion. What was psychic again?

"Blame my brother." She offers. "He's the one who ratted you out." To be fair it had only been a passing comment. A tease. She thought having a psychic for a friend would be fucking exhausting — but that was when she had her wires crossed with psychic and telepathic. Egg on her face, she supposes. Good thing she didn't let that one slip. Chris' squad would not let her hear the end of it.

The mission had gone sideways in a way Ada hadn’t calculated. This was rare for her, normally she was in and out without a second thought. The files and preparations didn’t give her enough of a warning.

She didn’t see the blow coming until it had been too late. A mutated creature the size of a large truck slamming its massive hand right at her. She didn’t have time to dodge or make a cleaver escape to avoid it. So she braced herself, heeled feet planting themselves against the ground her arms up.

However the impact never came, dark gems rose from behind the brace of her arms. As she seen the male take the full hit. Her feet were moving rushing to where the male had landed.

Skidding to a stop her gun aimed at the large creature, she looked over her shoulder. Normally someone would offer gratitude, Ada Wong offered a formal complaint. “You just made my job here alot more complicated.” She hissed firing two rounds into the creature.

“Don’t get reckless and sacrifice your life like some hero.” She continued on after all she knew the pattern, it was one she herself wouldn’t follow. At least not noticeably she wouldn’t. “Don’t do it again.” @worthystill

Though he was going for nonchalance, there's undeniable frustration that seeps into the undercurrent of Tony's voice as he speaks; flexing his fingers slightly as they uncurl from the fists they'd become at some point. It's not directed at Thor, who Tony hasn't even met the eyes of yet, pacing around the room instead - and it's not like he's even bitter at anyone in particular, but. It's fine to get frustrated sometimes, isn't it? It's pretty normal, Tony would say. Even if it always seems to end up with something going poorly.

"Being a god and all. ...It probably makes all these petty human problems seem pretty small, huh?" But then Tony smiles wryly for a moment, and finally lifts his gaze from the floor again, trying to force the tension out of his body at the same time. It's actually a bit easier than he expected. Maybe that's just exhaustion, or because he managed to get his feelings off his chest... and it doesn't stop the headache, but hey, you can't win them all.

"How do you do it, anyway?" he asks, firing off the question before he's had a chance to overthink. "Dealing with all that, uh. Kingly responsibility, pressure... you know, all the good stuff."

PROMPTS FOR PATCHING UP WOUNDS. ( ACCEPTING! )

" okay, bossy britches, have at it. " she tries for a chuckle, but she's so exhausted that all she can muster up is a half-hearted sigh. her hand extends, knuckles resting into his palm, a stubborn wound across her own that the stone simply refuses to heal. she's grown to understand what this means. the obstinate decline to mend the broken skin; it comes from the silent reminder that rest isn't optional. no matter how powerful one might be.

Jill would never leave this shower if she didn't eventually have to get some sleep. She wants to relish any last scrap of comfort she can get her hands on before they have to spend days hunting for clues on the BSAA bioweapons in the frigid mountains. Reluctantly she steps out and throws on a pair of thick pajamas and regrettably a bra. That bra is going to be the first thing to go if Thor really was going to be stubborn about the sleeping situation.

She half expects him to be konked out in the middle of the floor by the time she returns to the room. She can't resist walking over to Skalli and bending down to rub her exposed belly, careful not to wake the dog from her slumber.

"I could never really manage having a dog with my line of work. Having one take up all the space in my bed sounds kind of nice," she says wistfully. She'd always wanted a pet but refused to put an animal through the level of separation her job asked of her. She'd had some fish for a time but you can't exactly cuddle fish when you're feeling lonely.

She considers the man before her and thinks about the twinge of want she almost indulged in during her shower. Just one more comfort maybe. It has been a long time after all.