skurgetheexecutioner:

He found he was a little surprised that she was listening to him without visible doubt. This woman trusted too easily; she should be worried that he was tricking her, that he would break out at any time and destroy this place. SHIELD had plenty of experience with the Trickster. Maybe Loki wasn’t on Midgard, and hadn’t been long enough for this organization to relax. Big mistake. The bastard would take advantage of that lapse faster than Thor could drink a pint of mead. He almost felt bad for this girl, seemingly so innocent, pretending to be tough.

“Thank you.” He couldn’t expect more than some cruddy, weak Midgardian slop, but at least it was something. He’d get real food later. When she spoke again, he gave her a look. There was no humor in his face or voice when he said, “No.” Scratching his arm, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Make it meat. Rare.” He cracked open an eye for a moment, before closing it again. “Please.”

Miranda nodded again, her eyes darting up to the camera in the corner of the cell before settling back on the large man slouching against the wall on the ground. She was slightly surprised that he had said pleased. The only other Asgardians that she had ever come in contact with were Loki, Thor and Amora and two out of the three of them weren’t exactly the most polite beings in the universe.

“Rare?” she wasn’t sure how she was going to make that happen, seeing as how the agent had already gone off to fetch whatever it was that they would serve a ‘prisoner’, “I’ll see if I can make that happen.”

She gave another glance up to the cameras in the cell and hope that someone else had heard that and was making the preparations. She didn’t want this man getting upset over something so trivial as…as meat. But then again, what were they getting out of him, bending to his every whim? Her eyebrows knit together in a face of annoyed confusion and she spoke again.

“I can’t seem to grasp why you would come here,” she clenched the doors frame slightly and stared over at him, “You’ve had dealings with SHIELD before, didn’t you expect us to treat you as a threat? Especially after you ‘break in’ to one of our cells? It’s bewildering is what it is. “

Miranda bit the inside of her mouth, “People don’t do things like that.”

agentainemcevilly:

agentradar-desmond: 

-She smiles softly and nods- Yeah, we’re SHIELD agents. Not many people know about us to begin with…so the fact that we’re so unknown in our own division…-She trails off and stares at the ground for a moment before lifting her head and swallowing hard- It makes me feel small, you know? But, augh, you’re right. -she shakes her head- Field assignments are my best bet.

You know how to shoot, right? *peers at her. Miranda’s always seemed so jumpy* Field assignments can be dangerous but they’re really fun. I enjoy them. Just being able to concentrate on a task and jump into another role. It’s really … relaxing. *scrunches her face up* That sounds weird, doesn’t it? 

-Miranda glanced up at Aine then looked back down at the sidewalk- Yeah…I’m a decent shot. Not as good as most, but I can hold my own in a gun fight. -She smiles slightly- I understand and it doesn’t sound weird. We all have our own ways of relaxing, there’s nothing wrong with that. If I do start going on more field assignments I’ll have to start hitting the shooting range a bit more. Get some much needed practice in, you know? Just in case…

skurgetheexecutioner:

He turned his gaze to the wall, chuckling quietly at her sudden growth of a spine. The girl had some strength in that tiny little body. Not only was that not good for her, but it would probably get her killed. A beast may have a fearsome bark; that didn’t mean it also had a terrible bite. And he’d seen bigger bites on Midgardian kittens.

“If I wished you harm, none of you would be alive,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t pointless bragging; he could’ve taken the lot of them out with a single swing of his great axe. “I only wish for peace. I am troubling no one from here, am I?” He didn’t see any harm in talking to this one. The other mortals probably had a dozen or so of their little cameras trained on him, but there was nothing he could say that would give them any important information. He didn’t know where Amora was. He didn’t know where that green snake was, and he liked it that way. If these SHIELD punks got a little too eager, he could always cut and run. A blow from his axe would tear that little machine to shreds, and he’d be off. It was only because of such technology that he was here in the first place.

Deciding the bench was too small and narrow to hold him comfortably, Skurge moved to the other end of the cell and sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall behind him. He left the axe on the other side of the room as a show of good faith to this curious girl (though he could still rip the door off its hinges if he really felt like it). He found himself thinking of Valhalla, of the hallowed halls where he would have spent the rest of eternity, without pain, without sorrow, without death. Except Loki had come and brought him back to the land of the living, probably for some stupid plan. If those damn Valkyries had kept better watch… though they couldn’t really be blamed. Loki was a devil and only his brother could ever really stop him.

Skurge said, without looking at the door, “Got any food? Or mead?”

Miranda watched him rise and followed him with her eyes as he sat on the opposite end of the room. She heard the rustling behind her and glanced back to see that a few of the agents that were set up around the cell had raised their guns in preparation. Frowning she shook her head at them and mouthed, ‘stand down’, before turning back to Skurge. He honestly didn’t seem like such a bad person. He was dangerous yes, his file was big enough and contained enough information to remind her of that, but there was something about the way he was talking to her, about the way he was carrying himself, that told her he was tired. Maybe not physically tired but mentally. She glanced down for a moment then looked back up at him, she knew how that felt.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “You’re not hurting anyone here.”

Looking back, she gave a curt nod to one of the agents, a small confirmation to bring him some food. If he wasn’t going to behave like a prisoner than why should they treat him like one.

“We’ll get you some food, but-” her lips formed a thin line before she began again, “Why are you here at SHIELD? Isn’t there somewhere…safer, uh, somewhere better that you’d like to be?”