bring me to my knees (-open-)

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future She walked from her room, her footsteps silent on the wooden floor of the Avengers Mansion. She breathed in the clean air, slightly tinted with the smell of coffee. She rolled her eyes, running a hand through her blond locks. She licked her dry lips and yawned, narrowing her dulled sleepy eyes. She trudged down the hall, a few strands of her hair falling into her face. She groaned slightly as she round a corner to close to the wall and her toe slammed into the wall. She hissed and curled her toes in her silver -gold accented Nikes. As she rounded another corner on her way to the kitchen, she stifled another yawn. She brushed the slightly curly hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, careful to avoid the small loops of silver that hung from the holes in her ears. She wasn't awake; her sleep had been haunted by bone chilling and ear piercing screams. She was surprised she wasn't scared out of her wits. Then again it wasn't easy to scare Agent Smith, but never the less it could happen. Everyone had things they were afraid of. That's what made them human right? Anyways, Amelia had been frightened of many things, losing her loved ones was one of them and that had happened more than once; first her parents in that dreadful crash and then Henry. Was it ever going to end, that agony of losing someone so close to her? Agent Amelia Raven Smith, or Sparrow, highly doubted that. With a sigh, she continued on her way, having stopped to think over the dream that had plagued her the night before. She had tossed and turned, trying - and failing - to figure out who -or what- had made that scream. It had been human. She knew that much. Perhaps it was nothing? Perhaps it was a sign? Oh! She didn't know. She feared she would never know. That was the downside to Smith's dreams; most of the time she never found out what they meant, if anything. Finally, after what seemed like hours and several other yawns had slid through her mouth, Amelia entered the kitchen. She scurried to where the coffee maker was and grabbed the pitcher, filling it with water and filling the maker. She snatched up the coffee grounds and the filter. She put it in and then poured in the correct amount of coffee grounds. She started the machine and leaned against the counter, not even feeling the needle prick of pain in her side when the corners of the counter dug into her hip. Her eyes drifted closed as the coffee maker gurgled and spit, steam rising in steady puffs. She fell asleep right there and then as the coffee sputtered away, the dark brown liquid dripping out into the pitcher with a gentle, slightly soothing. Dip. Drop. Drip. Drop. But Amelia's sleep was far from dreamless as she leaned against the counter, her fist pushing into her cheek as she fell deeper and deeper in a dark hole, the scream taking over and blocking out the soothing coffee maker.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Clint "Hawkeye" Barton]

[atrb=border,0,true] Clint, for the life of him, had been unable to sleep. The confrontation with Loki earlier had been on his mind, as well as the conundrum of his new quiver design. He had been coming so close to a practical design every time he tried, but never had been able to perfect it. There was something he was forgetting, and it was nagging him so badly. All this thinking made him tired, and the sleepless sharpshooter eventually got to the point where he was restless, too. So, he slipped out of bed, a gray black beret t-shirt and blue athletic shorts serving as pajamas, and quietly made his way down to the kitchen. The light was on, and also the coffee pot, Clint noticed immediately. Maybe someone to talk to would get his mind off things and make him be able to sleep. A light snore greeted him when he strolled in. Amelia had obviously come down to get some coffee, and the quiet drip of the pot had lulled her to sleep. She was standing peacefully against the wall, her chest rising and falling slowly. Clint smiled and made his way over to the steaming coffee. Let her be for the moment. She would more likely than not wake up soon and just go back to bed. Pouring some java for himself and her, he sat down at the small wood table they all used for breaks. Clint was about halfway through his cup when Amelia began to stir. She slumped to the floor. Something was wrong; Clint could see it in her face. Abandoning his seat, he hurried over and knelt by her knee. "Amelia?" He gently squeezed her leg. Tags: Amelia Notes: I'll write more as we go along... I was rushed for time on that first one. GIF: Jeremy Renner in MI: Ghost Protocol. Didn't we all love him?!?

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future It started at her spine, the pain and then shot upwards, shoving needles deep into her back. It bled into her existence, the agony, slamming a million bullets into her chest. She couldn't make a sound, her scream was lost in her throat as she choked up on the ruby liquid that sustained her life. Those imaginary bullets slammed into her, driving her down onto her knees and in the kitchen her body slumped, her face crumpling in pain. Every one was millions of times more painful then a real bullet. It tore through her chest the blood rising in her throat and spilling down her front, drenching her suit. She tried to scream as the faceless attacks turned to her friends. She saw her parents, saw the fear in their eyes as their throats were slashed and heard their bodies dropping to the ground. She saw Henry killed, the pain shooting through her own body. Then there was the Avengers. One by one they were murdered in all horrid ways. There was Clint and Natasha, Bruce and Tony, Steve and Thor. All of them were dead, dropping like leaves as they died. The tears pooled in her eyes as she tried desperately to open her eyes. But she wasn't allowed to until she herself had fallen forward, skin pale and eyes glassy with death. She jolted awake, her heard beating rapidly. It threatened to beat right out of her chest. Her breath came in great gasps and she clutched her stomach in sudden pain, bringing in a breath and holding it, huffing it back out in pain, her face contorting with it. Her azure eyes, both pained and horrified, rested on Clint's face. Only moments earlier she'd seen that same face. Pale with death and eyes hazy with sightlessness. The fear was raging in her eyes as she stuttered on his name, touching his hand on her leg to make sure that he was really there and not just some illusion of her cruel mind. Her hand shook like an earthquake as she tried to settle her heart and calm her breathing. It didn't work. Her head too was pounding, the dying screams of her family and her friends echoing in her head as a small tear bled from her eye and she cursed herself for being weak and allowing her emotions to show. In the end, however, she uttered too slightly breathless words, "I'm sorry." She turned her head away from the archer, whom her words were directed to, slightly ashamed at the tears that slowly dripped from her eyes, images of the ones she cared for lying in bloody heaps flashing in front of her eyes.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Clint "Hawkeye" Barton]

[atrb=border,0,true] A huge rush of sadness went through Clint as he got down on his knees in front of the SHIELD Agent. He hated to see Amelia like this- she was one of the sweetest ladies he knew, and a devoted friend. She had inspired him so much. This felt like only a small repayment of all that. "Hey, hey, it's alright." She must have been having one of her dreams again; about what Clint didn't know. He wouldn't bother to ask, either. Whatever it was, it had really gotten to her and she couldn't help but cry. Immediately one of Nick fury's lectures ran through his head: how unprofessional it was to show emotion in a situation. This was different, though. Clint cursed at himself inside. Even professionals needed to cry at some point. It they didn't, all the emotion would get bottled up inside and more likely than not become a geyser instead of a gentle rain. getting up, he wandered over to the drawer of towels that they kept and pulled out the softest one he could find. It was a nice cashmere one, Clint noted happily. The other ones had been destroyed long ago. Lucky this one was hiding in the bottom. Normally Clint would have had a handkerchief on him, but it was three in the morning, so, he didn't. The towel would have to do. He went back to Amelia and handed it to her. "Don't worry." He said in the softest voice he had used in a long time. "It was just another one of your dreams. It hasn't happened." yet. That was the thing about her nightmares- they almost always came true, or pointed to something. a feeling of dread crept across the Archer's heart. What had she seen that made her bawl like a newborn baby? Hopefully it was something that could be resolved. Tags: Amelia, open Words: 302- why won't they come? Notes: things WILL get better... GIF: Jeremy Renner in MI: Ghost Protocol as agent William Brandt.

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future Sparrow regarded him grimly when he tried to reaure her that it would be alright. She didn't know if she believed him or not. She wanted to, truly she did. She wanted to believe that no matter what she saw that everything would be okay...but she was afraid that she couldn't trust his word. Hell she couldn't even trust that angel on her shoulder saying that it wouldn't happen. Oh no, her believe sided with that little devil, perched on her other shoulder, sneering at her through blood scarlet eyes. Your worst nightmare is about to unfold, it seemed to jeer into her mind. She shook her head to clear her head from the thoughts of the imaginary devil on her shoulder. But she could never be ride of the demon that haunted her sleep and threatened to be her end in battle. Her visions would always plague her and there was no way to get rid of them. She'd tried, oh how she'd tried. She took the towel when Clint offered it to her and smiled softly at him, her eyes sad as she wiped her eyes and brushed the stains from her cheeks. "I'm sorry Clint...I suppose I just ruined your morning..." She looked away from his face, her azure eyes on the ground. At his words she could here the 'yet' hovering unspoken between them. She didn't want it to happen...if it happened... No. She wasn't going to think about that.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Clint "Hawkeye" Barton]

[atrb=border,0,true] She started to collect herself again and Clint leaned back on his haunches. In relief he relaxed a bit and realized how tense he was. He allowed his body to go slack like a hung rope, and began to force bright, hopeful thoughts into his mind. Strangely, he felt accomplished and happy on top of the lingering worry he was feeling for his fellow agent. It felt good that he was helping Amelia recover from her traumatic dream, and being there by her side when no one else was. That's what coworkers were for, right? Especially SHIELD coworkers. Thwy got into scrapes every day, and sometimes the only one who could get you out was your partner, or a good friend. Whenever you were counted on and delivered, it produced a rush of happiness and pride unparalleled. Was that why others became heroes, to experience that sense of gratitude and pleasure when they put their life on the line for someone else? Suddenly everything else in his thought vanished and a little thread of guilt seeped in to Clint's mind. Tony Stark often said that he was a philanthropist, a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist (which Clint was definitely not), and The sharpshooter tried his hardest to be so too (the philanthropist part, I mean), not out of emotional benefit out of respect for those not able to protect themselves in dangerous situations. Also, he fought for generations to come and his country. Pleasure should have nothing to do with it. Oh, what was the world coming to? "I'm sorry Clint...I suppose I just ruined your morning..." Amelia's voice knocked him out of this momentary stupor. "It's alright. I've had worse things ruin my morning before." A small smile spread across Clint's face at the memories that phrase brought up. "Are you feeling well enough to get up now and get what you came for? I left some coffee in the pot just for you." He offered out his hand out to her. Tags: Amelia, open Words: 332 Notes: None GIF: Jeremy Renner in MI: Ghost Protocol as agent William Brandt.

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future Amelia offered a thin smile, but her heart wasn't in it. She took his hand and hauled herself to her feet. "Thanks." She said, forcing herself to fall back into her normal perky self. She offered a shaky grin as she turned to the pot. She poured herself a cup and smirked, teasing him, "You left some? There's hardly anything in here!" Of course that wasn't true, she was just teasing him and trying to fall back into her normal rythem of being herself. She leaned against the counter, brushing a strand of her honeysuckle golden hair from her face, her blue eyes slightly troubled but glowing dimly. She took a sip from the cup and ran a hand back through her hair. "What's your plan for today, Clint?" She asked, taking another sip from her coffee mug.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Clint "Hawkeye" Barton]

[atrb=border,0,true] Good. She was starting to cheer up a little now. At least he hoped. She still didn't seem completely like herself. Admittedly, he wasn't either. Her worry was affecting him, too, majorly. He wandered back over to his seat as she went to the coffee pot. The seat was cold now, but he didn't mind that much. It made it all better to hear Amelia's normal voice again, especially as she teased him about not leaving much in the pot. Her silly accusation made his eyes widen playfully. Throwing his hands up in the air, he exclaimed innocently, "Hey, I'm sorry. Thirsty men need their java!" Picking up his purple cup, he brought it to his lips. The warmth of the liquid ran down his throat, nearly making him purr. That was kind of an awkward habit he had: his purr, like that of a cat. It was just natural; it had been there since he was small. "What's your plan, today, Clint?" Her next question made him lean back and think. He really hadn't thought about what he was going to do later, just pondered the problems her was going to overcome later. "Well, I'm probably going to stay just long enough to work out the plans for my new quiver. I've been needing one for months now. My old one is becoming a bit too small for my needs. Then I was planning on going back to my loft and hanging out for a while. Talking to my landlord, perhaps, or playing a little Black Ops." He took another sip and finished, "Unless you want me to stay with you. I don't figure that you'll want me to, but thought I'd ask just in case." Tags: Amelia, open Words: Notes: N/A GIF: Jeremy Renner in MI: Ghost Protocol as agent William Brandt.

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future Amelia padded to the seat beside him and plopped down, the warmth seeping through her hands and making a delighted shiver travel up her spine. Her body had slipped into an uncomfortable cold, that always happened when she had one of those visions. It was actually quite horrid, as one could imagine. First it was like ripping out your heart with the pain in what you say and what you felt and then it was like being stuck into a frozen pond to freeze. Sparrow smiled faintly at her friend and laughed at his comment. "Ever heard the phrase," she pushed his arm playfully, "ladies first?" She grinned at him, her eyes shimmering in the light of the room. She arched a brow at the slight purring sound that exited her friend. She teased, "I thought your name was 'Hawk'eye, not 'Cat'eye." She shot him a smile and took a sip of her coffee, relishing in the warmth as it swam through her body. The blonde haired woman frowned slightly at his words, "I don't figure that you'd want me to". She glanced at him, her sapphire eyes loosing their teasing light, a soft light burning. "Whatever do you mean?" She asked, cocking her head softly to the right regarding him with a curious gaze of blue.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Clint "Hawkeye" Barton]

[atrb=border,0,true] Between swigs of coffee, Clint shrugged and answered, "Have you ever heard of the phrase, first-come, first serve?" His lopsided grin got bigger. "Or, finders keepers, losers weepers?" She heard the purr. He had really hoped that she wouldn't. That was just a bit embarrassing. A bunch of nicknames ran though his head, having to do with cats. Clint flushed red. Clearing his throat, the sharpshooter hummed once, put on a bass voice and raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "If I am Cateye, then I'm a black tom with one white paw, long, white fangs, and claws proportionate to a T-Rex's." He was just kidding, of course. Cateye. That would be such a funny codename. Sounded like a Warrior name, actually. From those books. Though it wouldn't be one that Erin Hunter actually used, it was a bit of an... Obvious thing. Like he wasn't versed in all that crap... He had only read the last series. And the second-to-the last. And the second-to-the first. And the first. And all the supplementary guides. It was a novel (haha, no pun intended) thing, some little fangirl had asked him to read them and he had. The first series was good, but they had declined steadily in quality after that. He was glad for Hawkeye. And he'd leave it at that. "Oh, well, I thought that you'd think of me as overprotective if I just up and stayed here with you. Overprotective, and... Erm... creepy-ish, I suppose." He gazed at Amelia, a bit of a surprised look on his face. Not that he didn't care. He just knew how some women were so independent. Amelia had always seemed to him like one of those people. And so, he didn't want her to have to feel dependent on him. "I really will if you want me to, though." Tags: Amelia, open Words: 304 Notes: N/A GIF: Jeremy Renner in MI: Ghost Protocol as agent William Brandt.

[ameliaraven]

[atrb=border,0,true] we were born we are strong i may be able to see your future Amelia smirked at him and laughed softly. "Oh, I've heard of them," she nodded, "I just chose to pay them no mind." She smiled at him, her eyes shining as they normally did when she was in the presence of friends, especially those she could have fun with and tease. Of course, she'd tease anyone whether they liked it or not, it was just in Amelia's nature. Agent Smith had to laugh as she saw him flush bright red. She grinned at him. "Cats don't fit you, Hawky," she smirked at the nickname she had grown accustomed to calling him, "You're a hawk all the way." She took a sip of her coffee and snickered, "Just don't let Stark hear that little purr or whatever you wanna call it. You'll never live that down with him." She smirked, sending him a grin over her cup as she took another sip, trying to wash the vision from her mind. However, it lingered there, prodding her with annoying flashes of her friends' dead bodies. She couldn't get the image of their blood on her clothes from her mind, couldn't get the feel of the knife embedding itself into her heart from her head. At the thought, her chest began to ache and she put a hand over her heart, just to make sure that it wasn't bleeding. She drew it back, looking at it, her eyes shining somewhat uncertainly. Sparrow drew in a breath of relief and let it out when she saw only the pale peach surface of her hand and without knowing wrapped her hand around the two rings on the necklace she never took off. There were two wedding rings on a chain, a silver chain that could use polishing, but she refused to do that. Her mother had been wearing this chain the night she was killed, the original charm had been lost so Amelia took her parents wedding rings and strung them onto the chain and she wore it always. Even on missions, she was terrified she'd loose it but never once had she. It seemed as though she was meant to have it as a reminder of the parents she lost. Sparrow glanced back at Clint when he spoke again, catching the surprise glittering in his eyes. She smirked. "Overprotective?" She chuckled, "Please! Don't remind me of my...father..." She choked only slightly at that, but it could have easily been just that the coffee she'd just took a sip from got caught in her throat, and the tears filling in her eyes could have just been from the sensation of slight choking in her throat because as soon as it appeared, it was gone as though it had just been a hallucination. She nodded, "You're right about one thing," she told him, " Independence is the way I roll, but I don't mind friends." She shrugged, "There is a training room," a glint caught in her sapphire eyes. "You could try and beat me in the virtual room thingy." There was a virtual room down in the training room, sort of like a simulation where one would face Chitauri or other villains and it was often taken on with a friend, either for an alliance or for a challenge to see who could kill the most bad guys.

[/color]


[/div]

but only you can change it

to be Fighters!

we are survivors

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tagged: open~ 593 words ~ outfit: c l i c k y ~ notes: i can always write more or less

template made by alaya @ CAUTION 2.0

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]