Quicksilver
Battery Park! It was just as thrilling as Pietro, Piers if you knew him well enough, remembered. Vague memories of the first time he and Wanda visited drifted through his mind. The Statue of Liberty loomed in the background, watching over the city like… it was pretty creepy if he thought enough about it, so he tried not to. “What building is that?” Wanda had asked excitedly, pointing to yet another Skyscraper. “What bridge is that?” To Piers, they all looked the same, so he made up random names that Wanda eagerly believed.
The first time that the twins visited the park, he mistakenly called it Central Park, because there were no batteries or electrical outlets he could find. Piers stopped briefly to watch some buskers, and bought a hot dog from an older looking man with a cart, adding both ketchup and mustard because there simply was no finer combination. He turned around, half expecting to see his sister chastising him for always eating, though truth be told, she made sure to pack plenty of snacks when they were together. He missed that. He missed them just being them. He didn’t care how it sounded - which was a lie - he’d never say it outloud, of course, not to anyone but Wanda, but this was definitely was not what he planned or hoped for. Sure, Wanda would disappear now and again. He was no stranger to wanderlust himself, and less of a stranger to needing some time and distance. The thought helped him sleep at night at least, at least until the alarm went off.
Beep Beep Beep – he snapped out of his stupor, and he involuntarily scowled. “Jebiga,” he swore under his breath, pulling the card from his pocket. Rogers wants a meeting? That elicited a curious eyebrow quirk. At least that would keep his mind occupied. He started to speed off, stopping only momentarily to offer what he considered a sexy lopsided grin at two pretty women in the park. His smile faded as he backed into a corner mail bin, near sending him sprawling. It elicited a laugh from the two women, which he’d be comfortable thinking was a flirty gesture back when it replayed in his head weeks from now as he tried to sleep. He sheepishly took a few steps back and spinning on his heels, took a cleansing breath before sprinting to the Avengers Mansion on 5th. He’d be there in a blink.
Piers stopped short in the situation room, quickly assessing the uh… situation. “Torch. Fury. Cap, he said, nodding in greeting. “Arrow Kid, Kid I don’t know, Cat napper, holy crap, other Cap,” he smiled at Captain Marvel, impressed. “Kid who…” he stopped mid sentence. Kid who looked like him, wait, what? He did a double take, eyeing the other speedster with the silvery hair, both his eyebrows raised. No, noooooo…. He inwardly chuckled. He was careful, always, and if he didn’t have anything on him, he could be to a bodega and back in a blink with a full pack. He narrowed his blue eyes to get a better look. “Quick… Silver…” he introduced himself to the room, in case there was anyone he hadn’t yet met. He was bad with names. And faces. And made up heroey names, and most plotlines of novels he had to read when going to night school, but that was a different story for a different time. For now he had to focus. Concentrate. Breathe.
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Dagger
Tandy stood in the front of the mirror in her room, feet in Croisé, like the woman instructing on her phone. Sure, New York was teeming with dance studios, but at 19, she was far too old to start en pointe training, and besides, who had time for any of that? This was New York, there was always something happening somewhere. Some sort of trafficking that needed to be dealt with, some big baddie strolling up like he owned the place. Besides, Ballet was mostly a form of meditation, a workout like no other, and she liked her feet too much to spend hours ruining them.
“Plié ….. Plié ….” the woman droned in a French accent. “Grande Jeté…” Tandy lept to the side, just as the card in her pocket sounded.
“Captain Rogers in the situation room….” She hastily swapped pulled a pair of pants over the leotard, rolling them at the waist. And pulled her hair out of the bun, tousling it for good measure. “Assemblé” she chuckled to herself, sliding into a pair of running shoes.
Tandy wouldn’t say she loved New York, but then again, she didn’t hate it either, better or worse it was home, and home was something else she didn’t take for granted. Kate was already in the situation room with Torch and some others. She resisted the urge to ask what was the sitch, cursing the late nights she and Cloak would spend watching Kim Possible down at the shelter. This wasn’t for play, not with Captain Marvel there, and with an emergency meeting called, she took her place with the others.