[ If Joaquin makes one more joke about there being a disturbance in the force, Sam might just re-think this entire gig and kill the man himself. Well, he adores Joaquin, is the thing. That's his friend and partner before anything else, and Sam couldn't have done the Cap thing for three years without him. His presence is a tremendous help in Sam's tentative efforts to rebuild the Avengers. But seriously, if he makes that joke one more time...
Carol Danvers put them on this trail. And Sam still can't believe that he gets to just put the intergalactic nuke on his team and coordinate with her. Granted, Carol won't likely be around for every single street level mission; but she's on the roster. Apparently her fancy space tech - and Sam has access to that now, what a novelty honestly - has picked up weird readings somewhere in the ass end of nowhere, Utah, or some shit like that.
Sam and Joaquin are scouting it out from the air. Just get some readings, some visuals, to send back to the likes of Banner and Strange with a big question mark attached. A quinjet hovers nearby with some other members of the team, just in case shit goes sideways.
What they find is... well, it looks like a tear. Except it's mid-air. Not very big, all things considered. A little taller in height than Sam. It looks like a widening crack in a wall or something. Well, except it's kind of purple and glowy. Sam and Joaquin agree that 'purple and glowy' are usually signs that point to 'shit's weird' and 'well that's not good'. That's their professional assessment, anyway.
Redwing's getting a nice visual scan from all angles, while Joaquin and Sam are hovering mid-air, a safe (safe-ish?) distance from the tear, collecting some readings and data with various tools and instruments Danvers, Banner and Strange thrust at them along with enthusiastic nods that translated to 'you got that, we're gonna stay inside where it's nice and cozy and neither purple nor glowy'. Assholes. Sam would threaten to cut their pay, except he's not Stark, so none of them are technically getting paid. Goodwill and all that jazz.
He's about to announce that all the beeping little devices seem satisfied and well fed, when the tear decides to widen. And... well, that's probably not good. Joaquin and him are about to fire up the thrusters, put some more distance, but the tear snaps open from one second to the next, and before Sam knows it...
A storm rolls through the gap between realities. ]
[ The storm that rolls through the gap shouldn't feel all that different to those who monitor it. It's abrupt, the way the clouds gather and darken around the rift, the way lightning sparks and crackles, how the temperature dips in the storm clouds but suddenly spikes around the tiny bolts of thunder. No, all that should be normal, if sudden. What is not normal at all is the body that finally drops out of the glowing purple tear through space and time.
The woman that falls out is fully unconscious, her long, white hair and the wings of her black and gold cape rippling upwards as she plummets towards the ground at a breakneck pace. Gravity pulls on her, and nothing is making her slow down...
To the naked eye, she might seem like a normal human body. But to anyone getting any readings on her, they may note how her body exudes a spike of energy. Like a bolt of lightning contained in flesh, running terribly hot as she'd just come from the icy wetness of a heavy cloud primed to release a doozy of a rainstorm over the nearest city. She won't sizzle when touched, but she may or may not crackle with static that'll short out any comms devices once caught. If she's caught at all. ]
[ She falls, and Sam doesn't even think before he goes into a dive, wings folding back inside the pack, thrusters kicking in to push him down faster. He gets out a barked 'hang back, I got her' before his comms crackle ominously from the proximity alone.
It's dicey, with the storm beating down on them, but Sam's trained for this, as flown through sandstorms and other heavy duty weather to save people and kick some ass respectively. He has no intention of letting this be any different, no matter how hard the wind tries to buffet him, no matter the poor visibility in the downpour. Sam hears Joaquin's voice in his ear, informing him of the readings the team's getting from the woman's body...
... but then Sam's momentum catches up to her. He gets his arms around and under her, and just like that, Joaquin's voice cuts out with a sharp 'pop' as Sam's comms short-circuit. He winces, but he doesn't have time to be concerned. His wings snap open as he pulls her unconscious body close, tucks the woman against his chest and lets his momentum carry them into a long dive and sharp upwards curve to avoid hitting the tree tops and ground beneath.
The maneuver is unsteady, they get flung around more than he likes, but his focus is on keeping her secure more than on keeping himself perfectly stable. For now, with her very proxmity messing with his comms and sensors, Sam flies blind, going by his eyes rather than any readouts he's no longer getting. He pulls up and away from the portal, from the storm, carrying the woman bridal style against his chest. First call is to get out of the storm. Second call is going to be injury assessment. Third is going to be reconnecting to the team and getting himself and the stranger to safety. ]
[ For long moments, she feels as he must expect - dead weight since she's unconscious, lean muscle under the smooth material of her uniform. Her clothes are slick and wet from the rain - but her hair steadily dries from an unseen static, curls bouncing around the more they fly and get away from the storm. But Sam's flight isn't particularly smooth, and soon enough the rough ride has her blinking her eyes open against his chest.
The sensations and recognition come slowly. Someone is carrying her. They are flying. The someone is armoured. There are wings, mechanised ones, cutting a path through the air. Everything sings of ozone and energy - the lightning was not solely hers, and hers has died down to a harmless crackle.
She looks up, bleary, and makes a few connections. Blue, white, red, and warm brown skin. ]
Captain.
[ Her eyes fall shut, but she isn't asleep. Just resting as the tension slides away. She can rest, almost curl into his chest, because she's so tired, but she knows who she's with. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
For @agoddessonce
Carol Danvers put them on this trail. And Sam still can't believe that he gets to just put the intergalactic nuke on his team and coordinate with her. Granted, Carol won't likely be around for every single street level mission; but she's on the roster. Apparently her fancy space tech - and Sam has access to that now, what a novelty honestly - has picked up weird readings somewhere in the ass end of nowhere, Utah, or some shit like that.
Sam and Joaquin are scouting it out from the air. Just get some readings, some visuals, to send back to the likes of Banner and Strange with a big question mark attached. A quinjet hovers nearby with some other members of the team, just in case shit goes sideways.
What they find is... well, it looks like a tear. Except it's mid-air. Not very big, all things considered. A little taller in height than Sam. It looks like a widening crack in a wall or something. Well, except it's kind of purple and glowy. Sam and Joaquin agree that 'purple and glowy' are usually signs that point to 'shit's weird' and 'well that's not good'. That's their professional assessment, anyway.
Redwing's getting a nice visual scan from all angles, while Joaquin and Sam are hovering mid-air, a safe (safe-ish?) distance from the tear, collecting some readings and data with various tools and instruments Danvers, Banner and Strange thrust at them along with enthusiastic nods that translated to 'you got that, we're gonna stay inside where it's nice and cozy and neither purple nor glowy'. Assholes. Sam would threaten to cut their pay, except he's not Stark, so none of them are technically getting paid. Goodwill and all that jazz.
He's about to announce that all the beeping little devices seem satisfied and well fed, when the tear decides to widen. And... well, that's probably not good. Joaquin and him are about to fire up the thrusters, put some more distance, but the tear snaps open from one second to the next, and before Sam knows it...
A storm rolls through the gap between realities. ]
no subject
The woman that falls out is fully unconscious, her long, white hair and the wings of her black and gold cape rippling upwards as she plummets towards the ground at a breakneck pace. Gravity pulls on her, and nothing is making her slow down...
To the naked eye, she might seem like a normal human body. But to anyone getting any readings on her, they may note how her body exudes a spike of energy. Like a bolt of lightning contained in flesh, running terribly hot as she'd just come from the icy wetness of a heavy cloud primed to release a doozy of a rainstorm over the nearest city. She won't sizzle when touched, but she may or may not crackle with static that'll short out any comms devices once caught. If she's caught at all. ]
no subject
It's dicey, with the storm beating down on them, but Sam's trained for this, as flown through sandstorms and other heavy duty weather to save people and kick some ass respectively. He has no intention of letting this be any different, no matter how hard the wind tries to buffet him, no matter the poor visibility in the downpour. Sam hears Joaquin's voice in his ear, informing him of the readings the team's getting from the woman's body...
... but then Sam's momentum catches up to her. He gets his arms around and under her, and just like that, Joaquin's voice cuts out with a sharp 'pop' as Sam's comms short-circuit. He winces, but he doesn't have time to be concerned. His wings snap open as he pulls her unconscious body close, tucks the woman against his chest and lets his momentum carry them into a long dive and sharp upwards curve to avoid hitting the tree tops and ground beneath.
The maneuver is unsteady, they get flung around more than he likes, but his focus is on keeping her secure more than on keeping himself perfectly stable. For now, with her very proxmity messing with his comms and sensors, Sam flies blind, going by his eyes rather than any readouts he's no longer getting. He pulls up and away from the portal, from the storm, carrying the woman bridal style against his chest. First call is to get out of the storm. Second call is going to be injury assessment. Third is going to be reconnecting to the team and getting himself and the stranger to safety. ]
no subject
The sensations and recognition come slowly. Someone is carrying her. They are flying. The someone is armoured. There are wings, mechanised ones, cutting a path through the air. Everything sings of ozone and energy - the lightning was not solely hers, and hers has died down to a harmless crackle.
She looks up, bleary, and makes a few connections. Blue, white, red, and warm brown skin. ]
Captain.
[ Her eyes fall shut, but she isn't asleep. Just resting as the tension slides away. She can rest, almost curl into his chest, because she's so tired, but she knows who she's with. ]
Sam.