[OOC: Directly follows
this prompt.]
UtopiaThe Red Skull had promised utopia. A world in which the old order would be destroyed to make way for a glorious new nation where the deserving would rule. He’d promised that they would take down the capitalists, the democrats, the weak men who believed in flimsy, silly things like “liberty” and “
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She rounded on Sam, trying to look casual, sizing up her options. "What are you doing here?"
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Somewhere, in the back of her head, Sharon could hear a tiny voice screaming. What are you doing? Sam is your friend! He's only trying to help! But another voice was stronger. He was messing with the plan. And you don't deserve help.
She landed on her feet, prepared for her next blow.
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Once he got into the fight, it felt like amateur hour. Which was odd, this was the Red Skull. It shouldn't be this easy. And then, when he used his repulsors to jam the weapons of two of the henchmen at once, knocking them together to take out a third and fourth -- and as he looked down the row of soldiers fighting in an eerily familiar style, he had to laugh out loud. It wasn't that they were bad, it was that he and Steve and Sam, tonight, were really that good. Avengers he thought, with conviction, whether Falcon was willing to accept the title or not. Tonight they literally deserved that ( ... )
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And then Tony Stark showed up, and what little progress Sharon had made went flying right out the window at the end of the hallway.
"You," she said. And before Sam could react, she'd pulled away, snatching her gun back from him and aiming it at Stark's exposed face. Her tears were drying on her face, and she could hear Faustus' voice in her head again, stronger than it had been in some time, as if he'd discovered her near-betrayal and was using all his concentration to regain control. Yes, Sharon. Use that anger. He's ruining the plan. And he, too, shares the blame for the death of your beloved Captain.
"You killed him too," Sharon said, teeth clenched, gun aimed.
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He glared at Stark. "You have terrible timing."
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And this had been going so well.
Now he had a pissed-off female with a gun pointed at him, and that was a situation that he'd been in too many times for his taste.
But he wasn't worried. They could sort it out later. It should only take an instant to stun her. To raise his arm and turn the repulsor blast in her direction -- a weapon he could operate with the speed of thought -- he just needed to lift his arm -- as soon as he could think it -- just lift his arm -- just lift his arm -- just a thought --
Oh, fuck. His armor wasn't moving. His body wasn't moving. With great effort, he managed to lift his eyes toward Sharon and Sam. He actually hoped this was an armor malfunction, that it wouldn't be affecting the others.
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