Security Clearance Level 7 Required

I Know The Rules: @frostirons || Liability

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 15:51:42 -0600

I Know The Rules: @frostirons || Liability:

Loki looked down and easily broke the shackles then turned his attention to the IV in Clint’s neck. “Sorry about this, Pet…” He pulled the IV out.

“Master…You came back for me.” He sobbed, pain flashing through him as the needles were pulled out.

@my-name-is-not-agent

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 15:07:13 -0600

my-name-is-not-agent:

coulsoncommaphil:

He put the gun away without a fuss - the firearm was /far/ from his most dangerous weapon. “I’m not sure how it happened, but this isn’t my….” He wanted to say territory, but that would give away too much information. “home. I’m here, somehow, by accident.”

The fact that he couldn’t feel his pack was throwing him off. He was used to the quiet rumblings of Nick and Clint and Nat and Jasper in his head. To suddenly have nothing was…difficult.

Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “This seems to be the weekend for it, though I’ve never met a.. me… from an alternative timeline before.” He waved for the other Phil to approach. “Let’s go sit and see if we can figure out how to get you home.”

Coulson nodded, walking over, and looking around curiously. Everything smelled fresh here, clean — none of the underlying tones of alphaomegabeta that he was used to.

“You said you worked for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate as well?” He asked, watching Phil. He wanted to tell him what he was, but he had to be sure Phil was telling the truth.

@my-name-is-not-agent

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 14:51:02 -0600

my-name-is-not-agent:

coulsoncommaphil:

“I think that will depend on telling me /who the hell are you/?” He growled, eyes flashing a deep red, alpha-red to anyone who knew the difference, and frowned, watching the other.

He looked like himself - more importantly, he /smelled/ right, but this Coulson was injured, and older - while Phil himself was…/old/, he only looked in his early thirties. Perks of being a werewolf.

Possibly mutant. Possibly something else entirely. Definitely aggressive. However, considering he’d been a soldier for sixty-someodd years, he wasn’t going to be cowed in his own home.

Not when there were children just one floor up.

Suddenly, the unassuming man seemed a lot more dangerous, despite his injury, voice calm and authoritative. “Agent Phil Coulson, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Lower your weapon,” he told him. “Now. And then we will talk.”

He put the gun away without a fuss - the firearm was /far/ from his most dangerous weapon. “I’m not sure how it happened, but this isn’t my….” He wanted to say territory, but that would give away too much information. “home. I’m here, somehow, by accident.”

The fact that he couldn’t feel his pack was throwing him off. He was used to the quiet rumblings of Nick and Clint and Nat and Jasper in his head. To suddenly have nothing was…difficult.

frostirons: Supernatural fandom, let’s all take the pledge “I WILL NOT ROMANTICALLY SHIP MISHA,...

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 14:21:08 -0600

frostirons:

Supernatural fandom, let’s all take the pledge

“I WILL NOT ROMANTICALLY SHIP MISHA, JARED, AND JENSEN’S CHILDREN”

but srsly stop

@my-name-is-not-agent

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 14:19:18 -0600

my-name-is-not-agent:

coulsoncommaphil:

Phil cursed, ducking behind the wall. This was fucked up - he could tell this wasn’t his home, but he didn’t know /where/ it was. He couldn’t smell Clint or Natasha or Fury, didn’t sense any other werewolves at all, actually, and he was close to the ‘Panic’ stages.

He was tempted to shift and explore, but he could smell someone coming …but his nose had to be wrong, cause how could he be approaching himself? He pulled out his colt .45 and waited.

Phil stepped ‘round the corner, still leaning on his cane. He’d accidentally ripped the stitches in his thigh and had to re-do them this morning before checking on his son and his… de-aged fiancé. He paused seeing…. himself.

Holding a gun.

“I’d rather not be shot twice in one week, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I think that will depend on telling me /who the hell are you/?” He growled, eyes flashing a deep red, alpha-red to anyone who knew the difference, and frowned, watching the other.

He looked like himself - more importantly, he /smelled/ right, but this Coulson was injured, and older - while Phil himself was…/old/, he only looked in his early thirties. Perks of being a werewolf.

markshepphardon: heysammy: [x] Jensen’s reaction -...

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 14:10:50 -0600

markshepphardon:

heysammy:

[x]

Jensen’s reaction - priceless

MY FAVOURITE THING ABOUT THIS is Mark’s reaction. HE LOOKS SO IMPRESSED WITH OUR FILTHY MINDS I CANT

frostirons: shakespeareintellectualbadass: clarrisani: mishasminions: JUST SAW A COMMENT ON MY...

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 14:10:24 -0600

frostirons:

shakespeareintellectualbadass:

clarrisani:

mishasminions:

JUST SAW A COMMENT ON MY DASH THAT SAID
“omfg i’m so glad it’s a girl!!! now west and thomas can compete on who gets to date her when they grow up”

UM. IF THE ACKLES BABY TURNED OUT TO BE A BOY, I DON’T THINK IT’D BE ANY DIFFERENT.

Nah, let West have Baby Ackles. Thomas can have Maison. :P

^my thoughts exactly

How about we stop shipping babies and toddlers and unborn children???

@my-name-is-not-agent

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 13:49:36 -0600

Phil cursed, ducking behind the wall. This was fucked up - he could tell this wasn’t his home, but he didn’t know /where/ it was. He couldn’t smell Clint or Natasha or Fury, didn’t sense any other werewolves at all, actually, and he was close to the ‘Panic’ stages.

He was tempted to shift and explore, but he could smell someone coming …but his nose had to be wrong, cause how could he be approaching himself? He pulled out his colt .45 and waited.

camuizuuki: starrysleeper: chickenortheseabass: starrysleeper: If you think that the Glee fandom...

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 13:57:37 -0600

camuizuuki:

starrysleeper:

chickenortheseabass:

starrysleeper:

If you think that the Glee fandom is the only one that gets upset after watching an episode, just remember that in 1830 people actually started a revolution and formed a new country after an opera performance gave them too many feels.

And that’s what you missed on the history of Belgium.

is Belgium tumblr

our prime minister is gay and likes bow ties you do the math

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 13:40:22 -0600

shieldshawk:

coulsoncommaphil:

shieldshawk:

Clint shook his head. “No Sir, that works for me.” Fuck yes, he was in. A real roof over his head, not some crappy tent in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, no terrorists shooting at him at all hours of the night, no nothing. God, this was going to be so, so nice.

“Good. Grab your bow and come with me - you’re moving in as soon as you sign the papers.” Coulson smirked.

“Sir, Yessir.” He smiled, loosing his last arrow, before slinging the bow over his shoulders, and following Coulson out to his office.

“You’ll start training tomorrow, you’ll being training a month, and then we’ll start deciding on missions.”

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 13:31:28 -0600

shieldshawk:

Clint shook his head. “No Sir, that works for me.” Fuck yes, he was in. A real roof over his head, not some crappy tent in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, no terrorists shooting at him at all hours of the night, no nothing. God, this was going to be so, so nice.

“Good. Grab your bow and come with me - you’re moving in as soon as you sign the papers.” Coulson smirked.

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 13:12:33 -0600

shieldshawk:

“Really? You’re takin me?” He grinned, not bothering to hide his excitement. “So, what’s my first assignment? I ain’t as good with a gun as I am with a bow, but I’ll shoot anythin ya put in my hands. I’m also real good with blades…but ya’ll already knew that, didn’tcha?” He trailed off, excitement pulsing off of him in waves.

“Your wording was correct. I’m taking you - I’m the one that’s going to be your boss. Just me. Not Nick Fury, not Sitwell, not SHIELD. Me Personally. We do this on occasion - with me being your Personal Handler, you’ll answer only to me. You’ll stay in my quarters, and you’ll only go on missions with me, or with Handlers I personally approve of. You’ll also be given access to your bow for every mision that will allow you to use one.” He smiled at him.

“Do you have any arguments?”

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 12:58:11 -0600

shieldshawk:

“He’s out sir. They came in here three hours ago, stuck a bow in his hands, an took him out to the range.” One of the more promising recruits, Kukula, spoke up, looking at Coulson. “Think it was Sitwell, or someone? Anyway, He should be back soon, they said it wouldn’t be more then four hours…I think.”

Phil nodded, and left the room, heading down and watching Clint shoot, full of pride, before walking in. “Rule 24, Boys.” Everyone but Clint left the room, and Phil smiled at his new operative. “I never cease to be amazed by your fantastic shooting.” He praised him, smiling.

“Your contracts been finalized.” He said next, not wasting any time.

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 12:47:24 -0600

shieldshawk:

coulsoncommaphil:

Phil sorted through his folders, and looked around, before grabbing the other folder and combining them, sorted now into the one folder. He sighed, and then casually wrote ‘Barton, Clinton F.’ on the tab.

Their newest operative, but he was already registering higher than anyone else ever had on their shooting tests, and that was with guns - when he had a bow in his hand, he shattered the targets.

He hesitated, and then very calmly wrote his name under handler, and stamped. ‘Security Clearance - Level 1’. This wasn’t normal. But he was doing something he’d never done before. He wasn’t making Clint an agent of SHIELD. Oh no - Phil knew that SHIELD would chew Clint up and use him up until he was empty, broken.

No, Phil wouldn’t allow that to happen to the archer. He was making Clint answerable /only/ to him, an agent of Phil Coulson’s, not SHIELD. Fury wasn’t going to be happy, but Fury would trust him.

He hoped.

Finally, they gave him a bow. It wasn’t high powered, or fancy, or anything like that, but hotdamn, would he make her sing. He’d been cooped up in the barracks with the rest of the recruits for a freekin week, he meant to make the most of his time on the range.

Phil walked into the fourth floor (down) in the SHIELD complex and looked around. “Barton!’ He called, walking farther in and ignoring the jealous looks of their other potentials. They would be tested some more, and those that didn’t make it would have their memories wiped.

New Mission Parameters (@shieldshawk)

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 12:29:00 -0600

Phil sorted through his folders, and looked around, before grabbing the other folder and combining them, sorted now into the one folder. He sighed, and then casually wrote ‘Barton, Clinton F.’ on the tab.

Their newest operative, but he was already registering higher than anyone else ever had on their shooting tests, and that was with guns - when he had a bow in his hand, he shattered the targets.

He hesitated, and then very calmly wrote his name under handler, and stamped. ‘Security Clearance - Level 1’. This wasn’t normal. But he was doing something he’d never done before. He wasn’t making Clint an agent of SHIELD. Oh no - Phil knew that SHIELD would chew Clint up and use him up until he was empty, broken.

No, Phil wouldn’t allow that to happen to the archer. He was making Clint answerable /only/ to him, an agent of Phil Coulson’s, not SHIELD. Fury wasn’t going to be happy, but Fury would trust him.

He hoped.

Photo

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 16:56:05 -0600

welcome back.

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 15:09:37 -0600

welcome back.

+Accipitrinae started following you

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 14:12:20 -0600

accipitrinae:

“Oh, thank you! I’ll be the bestest ever!” The archer had to pull away just to laugh, grin easy and amused. He paused at the mention of forms, though, face twisting in disdain. “I don’t have to fill them out, do I?” Maybe it wasn’t worth it to be friends, then. Of course…Stark could always pay someone to do it for him…

Clint was already biting back laughter at the mention of a hammer falling from the sky, holding back the jokes as best he could while Coulson talked. “So, we’re going to check out a hammer. A very magical hammer.”

As Phil passed the tablet over, however, the archer leaned forward, growing a bit more serious as he took, though there was still the hint of a grin. Norse, hammer wielding god. Definitely more interesting than he’d hoped. “Right, of course. Just speculating.” He passed the tablet back over after a moment, only to nod. “Sign me up.”

“Good to know you’re on board. We leave tomorrow at 0500. Pack for two weeks, hopefully it won’t be that long.” Not that he really minded - any excuse to spend time with the archer was a good one in his books.

He paused, and looked at Clint. “I don’t think I need to tell you to use discretion when talking about this mission, with others?”

asksylar: impossible-astronauts: ~wintermindpalace >:...

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 14:07:53 -0600

asksylar:

impossible-astronauts:

~wintermindpalace

>: |

NO THIS IS THAT BLOG RUN BY THE PERSON WHERE THEY ALL LOOK LIKE HIPSTERS QUOTES BUT THERE ALL SPN + DW + HEROES AND TEEN WOLF XD

+Accipitrinae started following you

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 10:12:42 -0600

accipitrinae:

coulsoncommaphil:

“I think there are many reasons as to why you’re not supposed to meet Tony Stark, mainly because that much snark condensed into one area would be cataclysmic.” Phil laughed quietly.

“A good chunk of the mission is re-con, but you’ll be my primary Sharpshooter. Should something come up, you’ll be the one with the power to make the call.” Phil said, already thinking of the paperwork he’d have to turn in with his own to finalize the decision.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else watching my back, anyway.” He said casually, just speaking the truth.

“I think you mean hilarious.” Fury might have a heart attack, but damned if that wouldn’t be hilarious, too. It was all perfect. Clint was absolutely dying to meet the man who made everyone squirm just as much as he did.

He gave a small hum in response to the information, not surprised by the decision. He’d worked with Coulson long enough that the arrangement was all but natural. Coulson called the shots and Clint took them. That was how it was and that was how Clint had come to like it.

He gave a small, pleased smile at the last comment, shrugging his shoulders and glancing off to the side in an attempt to hide it. “I’ll be your eyes, then. M’sure there’s bound to be somethin’ of interest out there.” If not something he could shoot.

“Tell you what - be a good boy on this mission and we’ll see about letting you meet Stark.” He smirked at Clint, amused. “And I’m not filling out any forms that come out of the collateral damage that /will/ occur if you two are friends.”

He nodded as Clint spoke. If he was Fury’s one good eye, it was only because Clint was both of his. “The meeting is supposed to be simple recon, going to see about Hammer that fell from the sky, and apparently the Local’s have been trying for two days to pull it from the ground - no dice. It ruined three cars, and caused two ER trips when it dislocated a man’s shoulder, and another managed to fling himself from his Motorcycle.” He looked at Clint, and decided fuck it. He hadn’t gotten this far with the other by keeping strictly to protocol.

He carefully sat the tablet down and slid it over to the side, folding his hands together. “If one were to speculate, completely off the books of course, it would be likely that one would suggest that this hammer has the markings on the side that Suggest Mythology. Specifically of the Norse variety.” He looked at Clint. They had no confirmed knowledge, but what they did have made it almost impossible to misunderstand. “Total speculation, of course, you understand.”