FIC: Anabasis, Act 1.0
Title: Anabasis
Pairings: Steve/Tony, future Clint/Coulson, possible others
Universe: MCU
Word Count: 981
Summary: The Avengers/Inception fusion AU for this prompt on the kink meme. They're the best at what they do, the elite of the elite, but when the future of two kingdoms are at stake, do they have what it takes to complete the job?
Rating: currently PG, but subject to change in future chapters
Warnings: none
Beta: no beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone; though if any errors annoy you, feel free to bring it to my attention
Author's Note: okay, okay, first time posting anything so I'm somewhat nervous about it...but as long as there aren't any rocks thrown at me, I'm all good. 8) I'm also kind of stuck for pairings; are there any other pairings that you guys want to see? I'll try and fit them in somehow~And yes, there will be a lot of background stories for all the characters, which I may or may not move into another series altogether.
Anabasis
Act 1.0 | The Initiation
They met in one of those dingy warehouses on the outskirts of town at exactly thirteen-hundred hours on an otherwise ordinary Thursday, sitting at a large table that made Clint think of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table-just, you know, without the king and the knights. Unless they had modern reincarnations, then they’d fit the legend to a T; Clint thought he would’ve made a pretty kick-ass knight, if he did say so himself.
He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, glancing to his left at Natasha who hadn’t moved for the past half an hour. The two of them were the first to arrive, having just finished another job together that left him itching for something with more excitement. And he knew Natasha felt the same way, even if she remained as quiet as ever, because he could totally read through her poker face; working with someone as long as they have tends to have its benefits.
Five minutes after them came Steve Rogers. From what Clint had read about in the file Coulson had given him some time ago, Rogers had been part of Project: Rebirth and the first ever and most successful participant in the Weapon Plus program, which had used dream-sharing as a means of creating the perfect soldier with peak physical capabilities. Clint didn’t have enough clearance to know the clear details, but from what he’s seen of the man, he’d say that it worked pretty well. Rogers sat himself next to Natasha.
They went through all the pleasantries-hello, how have you been, you got called in too?-then once again when Bruce Banner cautiously peeped around the metal door. Clint stiffened on pure reflex, finding that Natasha had reacted the same, and then wondered if everyone who knew of Banner’s rather big problem responded like them. S.H.I.E.L.D’s file on this guy was double that of Rogers’, and almost all of them were incident reports. Which made it surprising (and, in retrospective, it was stupid to have even think like that) when Clint didn’t get his fingers crushed when they shook hands and Banner decided to sit next to him.
Clint would be willing to bet his entire life savings that everyone in the dream-sharing business knew of the Big, the Green and the Ugly. What many didn’t know was how the creature that had flattened an entire dream-scape with one stomp was connected to the rather frail-looking scientist. Clint had never seen the transformation himself, but Natasha had. And judging by the way that she had clammed up about the entire thing and nearly bit his head off when he asked he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Another ten-maybe even fifteen, he wasn’t counting-minutes passed in utter silence. Banner was too busy trying to make himself as small as possible; Natasha was still as unresponsive as ever; and Rogers was fumbling with something in his leather jacket pocket; which left Clint to think.
Not that it took a genius to figure out who the last addition to their little team would be. The biggest hitters in dream-sharing were all seated around this one table, and there was probably only one other person who could out-do every single one of them when it came to being famous in their field of work, though not always in the positive light. That special person also had a stupid flair for being fashionable late.
Just as Clint was ready to stand up and stretch his legs, the door swung open with a loud thud as it hit the wall, and he tried not to roll his eyes when Tony Stark-clad in a three-piece suit that looks like it cost more than Clint’s car-strolled in looking like he owned the damn place with a smirk, which he probably did. The two of them worked a job together with Rogers before, a little thing in San Diego, and if there was one thing he learned from that encounter it was how utterly exhausting being in Stark’s general space was, even for a few minutes. He was relatively sure Super Soldier Man would vouch for it too.
“Too rich to dress like a normal person even in the middle of nowhere, Stark?”
“It’s called having taste, Barton,” Stark replied, lowering his sunglasses an inch to give Clint’s clothes an once-over, “something that you obviously suffer a severe lack of.”
Fury walked passed them with Coulson closing the flank, and glared at Stark with his one visible eye, enough that the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist actually bowed in a mock of an apology. “You’re going to be the one suffering a severe lack of something if you don’t sit your ass down right now.”
Stark looked like he was going to object, but obviously something in that head of his was working properly today since he did as threatened and took the empty seat next to Rogers. Clint didn’t miss the way that they glanced at each other-probably a story there-or the fact that the glance lasted a lot longer than a glance was supposed to and both turned away without another word. Yeah, definitely a story there.
“Now that you’re all settled, you’re probably wondering why I called all of you here,” Fury started, giving Coulson a bunch of manila folders to hand out. “There is an urgent problem that needs to be dealt with before it has the possibility of reaching our shores, and it requires each of your…specialized skills.”
Clint flipped through the file, not exactly sure what the hell he was looking at. There were photos of elaborate castles, long stretches of icy plains, and a lot of weird words that he’s never even heard of in his life. He looked up to see everyone having the exact same confused expression, though in different moderation, but it was Stark that voiced the first question.
“So. What the hell is an Asgard?”
Pairings: Steve/Tony, future Clint/Coulson, possible others
Universe: MCU
Word Count: 981
Summary: The Avengers/Inception fusion AU for this prompt on the kink meme. They're the best at what they do, the elite of the elite, but when the future of two kingdoms are at stake, do they have what it takes to complete the job?
Rating: currently PG, but subject to change in future chapters
Warnings: none
Beta: no beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone; though if any errors annoy you, feel free to bring it to my attention
Author's Note: okay, okay, first time posting anything so I'm somewhat nervous about it...but as long as there aren't any rocks thrown at me, I'm all good. 8) I'm also kind of stuck for pairings; are there any other pairings that you guys want to see? I'll try and fit them in somehow~And yes, there will be a lot of background stories for all the characters, which I may or may not move into another series altogether.
Anabasis
Act 1.0 | The Initiation
They met in one of those dingy warehouses on the outskirts of town at exactly thirteen-hundred hours on an otherwise ordinary Thursday, sitting at a large table that made Clint think of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table-just, you know, without the king and the knights. Unless they had modern reincarnations, then they’d fit the legend to a T; Clint thought he would’ve made a pretty kick-ass knight, if he did say so himself.
He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, glancing to his left at Natasha who hadn’t moved for the past half an hour. The two of them were the first to arrive, having just finished another job together that left him itching for something with more excitement. And he knew Natasha felt the same way, even if she remained as quiet as ever, because he could totally read through her poker face; working with someone as long as they have tends to have its benefits.
Five minutes after them came Steve Rogers. From what Clint had read about in the file Coulson had given him some time ago, Rogers had been part of Project: Rebirth and the first ever and most successful participant in the Weapon Plus program, which had used dream-sharing as a means of creating the perfect soldier with peak physical capabilities. Clint didn’t have enough clearance to know the clear details, but from what he’s seen of the man, he’d say that it worked pretty well. Rogers sat himself next to Natasha.
They went through all the pleasantries-hello, how have you been, you got called in too?-then once again when Bruce Banner cautiously peeped around the metal door. Clint stiffened on pure reflex, finding that Natasha had reacted the same, and then wondered if everyone who knew of Banner’s rather big problem responded like them. S.H.I.E.L.D’s file on this guy was double that of Rogers’, and almost all of them were incident reports. Which made it surprising (and, in retrospective, it was stupid to have even think like that) when Clint didn’t get his fingers crushed when they shook hands and Banner decided to sit next to him.
Clint would be willing to bet his entire life savings that everyone in the dream-sharing business knew of the Big, the Green and the Ugly. What many didn’t know was how the creature that had flattened an entire dream-scape with one stomp was connected to the rather frail-looking scientist. Clint had never seen the transformation himself, but Natasha had. And judging by the way that she had clammed up about the entire thing and nearly bit his head off when he asked he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Another ten-maybe even fifteen, he wasn’t counting-minutes passed in utter silence. Banner was too busy trying to make himself as small as possible; Natasha was still as unresponsive as ever; and Rogers was fumbling with something in his leather jacket pocket; which left Clint to think.
Not that it took a genius to figure out who the last addition to their little team would be. The biggest hitters in dream-sharing were all seated around this one table, and there was probably only one other person who could out-do every single one of them when it came to being famous in their field of work, though not always in the positive light. That special person also had a stupid flair for being fashionable late.
Just as Clint was ready to stand up and stretch his legs, the door swung open with a loud thud as it hit the wall, and he tried not to roll his eyes when Tony Stark-clad in a three-piece suit that looks like it cost more than Clint’s car-strolled in looking like he owned the damn place with a smirk, which he probably did. The two of them worked a job together with Rogers before, a little thing in San Diego, and if there was one thing he learned from that encounter it was how utterly exhausting being in Stark’s general space was, even for a few minutes. He was relatively sure Super Soldier Man would vouch for it too.
“Too rich to dress like a normal person even in the middle of nowhere, Stark?”
“It’s called having taste, Barton,” Stark replied, lowering his sunglasses an inch to give Clint’s clothes an once-over, “something that you obviously suffer a severe lack of.”
Fury walked passed them with Coulson closing the flank, and glared at Stark with his one visible eye, enough that the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist actually bowed in a mock of an apology. “You’re going to be the one suffering a severe lack of something if you don’t sit your ass down right now.”
Stark looked like he was going to object, but obviously something in that head of his was working properly today since he did as threatened and took the empty seat next to Rogers. Clint didn’t miss the way that they glanced at each other-probably a story there-or the fact that the glance lasted a lot longer than a glance was supposed to and both turned away without another word. Yeah, definitely a story there.
“Now that you’re all settled, you’re probably wondering why I called all of you here,” Fury started, giving Coulson a bunch of manila folders to hand out. “There is an urgent problem that needs to be dealt with before it has the possibility of reaching our shores, and it requires each of your…specialized skills.”
Clint flipped through the file, not exactly sure what the hell he was looking at. There were photos of elaborate castles, long stretches of icy plains, and a lot of weird words that he’s never even heard of in his life. He looked up to see everyone having the exact same confused expression, though in different moderation, but it was Stark that voiced the first question.
“So. What the hell is an Asgard?”