Carl Creel/Alloy

Later that night after testing Jennifer, Carl snuck into the gym. He needed the chance to vent. Thinking of Jen getting brainwashed had brought up... well, it brought things up that Creel had poured a lot of time punching HYDRA soldiers into to try and avoid. But late at night, when he closed his eyes, the memories of innocent death and a dark-skinned man with a smirk on his face telling him things would be better if he complied filled his mind.

So he was in the gym doing something he'd once loved.

“Uff, uff, ha!” Creel grunted, doing the tried and true combo of two jabs and right cross on one of the punching bags in the gym of the Avengers Tower. A breath in as he pulled back, a breath out as he punched out, feet constantly moving, hands flying. Creel had always been a slugger, even before he could turn invulnerable, so his hits were more akin to rocks falling than lightning striking. Not as fast, but just as hard hitting. He tried to move his feet quick. It was tough, digging up the old skills. He'd had to change his fighting style to account for his powers, and it had been a long time since he'd just went to his roots.

Memories forced themselves up to the front of his mind. The bag bent beneath his blows, the loud sound of flesh on leather filling the gym. Sweat dripped down his nose, landing on the mat. Whitehall smiled in his memories. The next thing Carl knew, he had changed into steel and the bag he'd been punching was ripped in half.

Creel panted for a moment, closing his eyes. The sound of sand falling to the mat and Creel's panting was joined by footsteps moving towards him. Creel turned to see Mahmoud walk up to him.

The younger man was wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt. He frowned, looking from Creel to the destroyed bag.

“Hey... You okay?” he winced. “I mean, obviously not, just... I'm gonna grab the vacuum.”

Creel closed his eyes again, trying to get his breathing under control while listening to Mahmoud's footsteps receding, then coming back. When he opened his eyes, Mahmoud was holding the vacuum out to Creel. The bearded man shrugged.

“Well, I didn't make the mess, did I?”

That surprised a laugh out of Creel. He took the vacuum, one of those handheld Starktech models. “Yeah, guess not,” Creel leaned down and started vacuuming up the sand, speaking as he did. “What are you doing down here, anyway?”

“Can't sleep,” Mahmoud responded, moving to lean back against a nearby locker. “I'm way too excited for the trip tomorrow. I keep fighting the urge to go out on patrol. So when I heard the sounds of a punching bag from my room...”

“Sorry bout that,” Creel said as the whisper quiet vacuum sucked up grains. “Just... boxing calms me down. Even now. Granted, can't really get back into it now. I ended up ruining it for myself,” Creel scoffed. “Don't know why they cared.”

“Maybe because most people can't make their fists turn into steel?” Mahmoud suggested sarcastically. “I heard you broke a couple of jaws in the day.”

“More than a couple,” Creel said with a smile he didn't feel. “It's good character building. I can guarantee the guys I beat that way duck a hell of a lot faster now.”

From the annoyed sigh Mahmoud let out in response, he didn't agree. Creel pretended like he didn't care, simply finishing his vacuuming and picking up the shredded pieces of bag.

“If you're not gonna leave,” Creel rose up and looked at Mahmoud. “You could always train with me.”

“If I do, I'm changing into an alien first,” Mahmoud narrowed his eyes. “Ain't about to spar with you and risk getting my jaw rewired for the sake of 'character building'.”

Creel winced. He'd been trying to be friendly, but apparently proceeding that by dismissing his cheating was a bad idea. “Yeah... Look, I'm not a great guy. All this hero stuff. I'm just not meant for it. But that doesn't mean I don't know right from wrong. I just... back then it all seemed to fall into place. Suddenly I didn't have to lose anymore. I could just live an easy life. No more crappy apartments or making deals with mobsters just to hear cheers. I got everything I wanted, and it was just...”

Mahmoud watched Creel hesitantly gather the pieces of the bag in his hands and roll them up. “I don't know. It got away from me. And then Whitehall got his hands on me and... I have a lot to make up for. Thanks to you, I have a chance to do it.”

The younger man didn't seem to know what to say about that, so he just coughed. “So, uh, you said something about boxing? Cause, Steve's been teaching me a bit.”

Creel, just as unnerved about how personal things had gotten, tossed the bag pieces away and grabbed another one. “Yeah, sure. You like boxing?”

“Ever since my first Rocky movie,” Mahmoud replied as Creel put up the new bag. “Though Steve said it's really fake.”

The bald man chuckled. “Yeah, lots of bobblehead dodges in that movie,” At the confusion on his friend's face, Creel explained. “The way the boxers dodge in that movie is really choreographed, so they look like those little toys, you know? Always shifting their heads around a mile before anything happens.”

“Ah,” Mahmoud nodded. “Well, I always like those movies anyways, as well as a few anime and manga based on boxing. So I always wanted to learn. And since I have a chance, Steve was giving me a few pointers. I could use a hell of a lot more.”

Creel nodded and picked up a pair of hand wraps and gloves, tossing them to Mahmoud, who blinked in surprise. Creel moved behind the bag, slapping at and gesturing at the Omnitrix user. “All right, take a couple of jabs, let's see what you learned.”

The younger man blinked, then hurriedly rushed to wrap his hands. Creel winced. “Whoa, whoa, not like that. Here,” Creel walked over and showed Mahmoud how to properly wrap his hands, then helped him put the gloves on. Once done, they went to the bag.

“Kay, let's see what you got,” Creel tapped the bag again.

Mahmoud unleashed two punches.

“Again, but try to move your hips into it.

Two more.

“Don't push the bag. All the damage is in the initial impact, pushing it after does crap, kid. Again.”

After ten minutes of that, Creel went for it. Back and forth, just focusing on the basics for the night.

Creel didn't dream when he went to sleep that night.

------

January 22nd, 2014

Clint Barton/Hawkeye

Early in the morning, Clint yawned on his way to the kitchen, fully dressed in a shirt and khakis but still shaking off sleep. There were certain perks to being an Avenger. Free upgrades to weapons, top-of-the-line entertainment and tech in every part of the tower, a room with a bed so soft you could swim in it, and of course, the kitchen. A kitchen constantly maintained by Stark custodians, chefs, and personnel, not just keeping it clean, but filling the shelves with snacks and putting delicious homemade meals in the refrigerator and freezer, with room service provided just in case.

Clint was looking forward to a big breakfast when he walked into the kitchen.

Instead, he stopped, mouth open mid-yawn. “...What the hell?”

The entire kitchen had been devastated. The counters were open with all the bags of snack opened and emptied. The trash was full of wrappers from candy bars, bags that had once held chips, and broken glass that must have formerly been cups and bowls. Clint, feeling out of his depth, rushed over to the fridge, opening it with hope in his heart. That hope was stabbed in the throat and left to bleed out at his feet on the cold kitchen floor as he saw that the fridge had been emptied out of everything except condiments.

And yet, everything in the kitchen was clean. It was as though a tornado had eaten all of the food in the kitchen, then cleaned up after itself. Even the cereal boxes were gone.

Feeling befuddled and frustrated, striding through the halls, Clint walked into the next room, the lounge area set aside for everyone to watch movies, play video games, and do whatever they wanted to relax.

Once again he stopped, eyes wide.

In front of one of the screens currently being projected on, three people sat on the couch, all happily eating. The table before them was groaning under the massive amount of food placed upon it.

Thor, Hulk, and Jennifer. The Asgardian and two green giants sat side by side on a much-beleaguered couch. They were all also wearing bathrobes and fluffy slippers. Well, Thor was. Hulk's bathrobe had long since given up the fight and ripped apart to leave him in tatters of soft downy towel pieces, only his armor providing any sort of decency. Jennifer's robe technically fit, reaching only to mid-thigh, and leaving a hell of a lot of skin to be revealed.

All three superhumans looked up at Clint as he entered. Thor grinned, swallowing a mouthful of turkey from the leg he was holding. Nevermind that it was in the middle of the morning.

“Barton!” Thor waved at him. “Welcome my friend! Come, join us!”

“Uh, sure,” Clint stepped into the room feeling as though he'd walked into the twilight zone. “What is all this?” Clint asked in confusion.

“Well,” Jennifer, looked over at her cousin and Thor with a grin. “The big guy told me he never really got the chance to eat until Dial fed him, and Thor's never watched cartoons before,” she chuckled. “Man, Thor. How crazy is it to know a god? He's definitely built like one.” Jennifer flipped her hair over her shoulder and sent a flirtatious look Thor's way, which was returned with a hesitant smile.

“Yeah, yeah, you're all incredibly good-looking,” Clint said casually. “So you decided to do what exactly?”

At that moment, the screen left commercial to go to a cartoon Clint, a father of two, was extremely familiar with.

“Hahaha! Your question makes my shoulders bounce! Fireball!”

As the four of them watched, a pixelated figure in a cartoon world unleashed a fireball from his hands as a boy wearing a hat with a blue pine tree symbol on it watched. Gravity Falls.

“I like him,” Thor explained calmly. “While I'm sure he won't become a permanent figure in the show, he has proven to be quite fun, with an attitude that I can relate to.”

Once again, Thor was full of surprises.

“How about you?” Clint asked Hulk.

“Hulk like Mabel!” with that declaration, Hulk shoved a bunch of sugary cereal into his mouth with a serving spoon and crunched loudly.

“So you decided to do a morning marathon with sugary food?” Clint asked Jennifer.

The massive woman smirked. “Yeah. I mean, Jemma told me I can't gain weight anymore, so I decided to abuse it,” with that, she grabbed a package of Double Stuf Oreo's and ripped it open to shove into her mouth, moaning happily.

Clint looked over the group. Three adults with superpowers acting like little kids... finally he was on familiar territory.

The father of two moved to sit next to Jennifer. “Move over, I love this episode.”

Jennifer shifted over as Hulk took the package of Oreos from her, the long-haired woman leaning back in her and Thor laughing at the events on screen. Clint grabbed a slightly burnt breakfast burrito and sat down for the show.

------

Ava Starr/Ghost

Bill had been given a lab to himself in the Avengers Tower, with enough room for Ava's 'room', the glass chamber that supplied her with quantum energy to keep her alive, several computers, and a new machine shaped like a spiky ball as tall as a small child. Ava stood inside her room, watching through the distorted glass as Bill and Fitz worked at the new machine. The British man turned from it and walked up to Ava, waving at her with a smile.

“Okay!” Fitz yelled. Ava sighed. Despite her constantly saying otherwise, people refused to understand that she could still hear them perfectly fine through the glass, even if she hadn't been trained in lip reading. “The machine is going to use the quantum batteries we made to gather energy directly from the quantum realm and send it to you!”

“I already know all that,” Ava said, crossing her arms and glowering. "Also, I can hear you fine."

“Oh. Good!” Fitz turned and went back to the machine, looking as though he was at a loss as to what to say to Ava afterward.

“Be nice to Dr. Fitz, Ava,” Bill said to his adopted daughter. “He's been extremely helpful on this project.”

As long as it worked. Ava clenched her teeth as she briefly tore apart, portions of her back stripping away in long lines of flesh erased from existence before slamming back into place. Her heart tore out of her chest, then returned. None of it was visible. But she could feel it.

“I have to say,” Fitz told Bill. “I still think we should wait to do research on Big Chill before we-”

“I don't think that's necessary,” Bill said, eyes twinkling. “Hit the switch.”

Fitz hesitated. With a look of trepidation, he pressed a few buttons on the machine and finally hit the switch in question. Together the two scientists turned to look at the glass cage. Ava found herself feeling a bit nervous as the walls began to glow before hitting her with waves of energy. She felt nothing at first then a relieving sense of coolness began to fill her. She stood in the glass room for a moment, unable to understand what was happening. Then the pain, the sensation of skin and flesh ripped across dimensions over and over again, began to recede. She gasped at the relief that filled her. Falling to her knees, Ava nearly cried in joy, staring as her hands began to stop shifting dimensions and solidify. For a moment, all was peaceful. That was before someoneslammed into her. From within the waves of energy, hitting her in her soul.

“YAAAAAAGH!”

“Ava!” Bill yelled in shock when Ava screamed in horror. Her eyes were wide in fear and agony as another mind slammed into her own. She tried to understand, to fight back, to do something. But this mind was powerful. This mind was a survivor.

And it was also kind. When it realized what was happening, it receded. Not before Ava saw her. In her thoughts, on the waves of quantum energy pouring into her.

Then the machine was turned off. Ava panted, tears of pain pouring down her cheeks. Bill opened the door and rushed into the glass cage, leaning down to hug her. “Ava! What happened?”

“I-” Ava swallowed reflexively. “S-She was... Who was that?”

“Who?” Bill looked over at Fitz, who put his hands on his head, looking befuddled. “Ava, no one else was in the cage.”

“I-I felt her!” Ava shook in her adopted father's arms. “Someone, I don't, she was...She was so strong... she's still in there... Who is Janet?”

Bill froze, eyes widening in realization. Thinking furiously, he looked over at Fitz. “Dr. Fitz, please call Director Hill immediately,” Bill said, forcing himself to stay calm through his fear for Ava. “I think things have gotten complicated. I... God damn it.”

As Fitz took out his phone and dialed Coulson to connect to the Director, Bill rubbed a hand on his face. “We need a consultant.”

------

Frank Castle/Punisher

Inside the Enterprise's barracks, Frank Castle was packing up a bag when Captain America walked up to him. “Hey, Frank,” Steve said, wearing his casual gear, though his famous shield rested on his back. “Thanks for all the work you've been doing. We all really appreciate it.”

Frank did a slow smile at that. “Well uh, it's an honor to hear that from you, sir. You headed home?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, home is the tower, really. I usually just take a room there. It's easier that way.”

For just a moment, Frank had no idea how to respond to that. Captain America living in a tower just waiting for next mission. On some level, Frank felt like the idea of that called to him, but on the other hand.”

“No offense, sir, but that sounds depressing as hell,” Frank finally said.

Steve looked surprised, then barked out a laugh. He shook his head, chuckling. “Well, it kinda was for a while,” he admitted. “But now the tower is kind of full of people, so I usually end up having someone to talk to. I'll look into getting my own place down the road, but this is good. How about you, Frank? Where's home?”

For a moment, a memory came up. His wife, asking the same question. Frank pushed away the memory. “I, uh, live right down there,” Frank pointed at the floor, indicating New York City below the helicarrier. “I was born there, actually. Hell's Kitchen.”

“No kidding?” Steve said, moving to sit on a nearby bunk. “Me too. Well, Brooklyn. Born and raised there.”

As though Frank didn't know, hadn't read everything about Steve's life the second he got the chance to work for the man. Captain America's house was preserved by the city, including his room with the drawing he'd made before heading to the war. Here he was, a living legend, and he didn't seem to know it.

“Bit tough to get a place there now,” Steve said with a wince. “Prices kind of skyrocketed there.”

“What, can't just ask for it?” Frank asked, only half-joking.

Steve chuckled. “Nah, I don't want BRIDGE giving me a place. Rather get one of my own.”

That was something Frank could respect. He finished packing his bag and stopped at the sight of a photograph. Maria, Frank Jr., and Lisa. His family. Frank turned and handed the photo to Steve. “There. That's home,” Frank said, trying to feel as certain as he sounded.

On taking the photo, Steve smiled. “Your family.”

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged his bag onto his shoulder and pointed at the three one by one. “Maria, my wife. Frank Jr., and Lisa,” Frank couldn't hide the pride he felt at the sight of his children.

“Gotta say, Frank, your kids look a lot cuter than you,” Steve teased, handing Frank the photo back.

Frank chuckled. “Fuck you, Steve,” Frank took the photo and stared at it. “You know, uh...” the soldier hesitated.

“Frank?” Cap asked curiously.

“Nothing, nothing, it's just... Sometimes I feel like I, uh, like I don't deserve them,” Frank put the photo in his pocket. “I mean, the things I did, in Afghanistan, they weren't what I wanted. I was supposed to be a soldier, and, uh,” Frank rubbed at his nose. “Shit, no idea why I'm saying this.”

“No, I get it,” Steve said, his voice filled with sympathy, though not in a pitying way. “You can't understand unless you've been there. During the war, we had to do things, make compromises for the greater good.”

Frank huffed a laugh with no humor to it. “Greater good. Cap, the shit I did wasn't for the greater good. I just followed orders. And I'm starting to feel like I shouldn't have.”

He turned and left, moving quickly. Steve called out to him, confused. Frank ignored him and left.

------

Mahmoud Schahed/Dial

The day after letting Jennifer get out to see the world, I was rushed into a Quinjet with a large group, sent out to the middle of nowhere with dozens of machines set up across the pavement of the defunct army base we were at. It was tropical, with palm trees, sun, and the smell of fish coming from the distance, but I had no idea where exactly we were. Probably Florida though, since California beaches were crap.

Besides myself, there were dozens of BRIDGE personnel around the base setting things up for the tests. I was sitting on the roof of a hanger by myself watching as everyone came in.

A big APC came in as I watched it roll past the lines of heavy machine guns and stop at a designated parking spot. The big metallic black vehicle was immediately surrounded by guys with big guns, a pair of gray tanks rolling to point at it.

Boom!

I jumped when the hangers roof shook at the impact of something big hitting it behind me. I turned to see She-Hulk walking towards me, leaving a giant dent from her landing. “Still working on those landings?” I asked, my legs swinging over the edge.

“Yeah, but I'm having fun anyways,” the towering gamma-enhanced woman flashed her white teeth and stepped over across the rooftop on bare green-skinned feet until she was looming over me. Tony had quickly designed a costume for her in the shape of a one-piece swimsuit-like thing in dark purple colors and it seemed to fit her pretty well. She flopped down next to me, swinging her legs in cadence with mine. “So, what's up?”

“The 'prisoners',” I used my fingers for quote marks. “Have arrived. Now we just wait for the puppies and the volunteers and we're in business.”

“Can't wait,” She-Hulk grinned down at the area below. “So my cousin told me you can change into aliens? What's that like?”

“Like moving your second brain with the muscles you've had your whole life,” she blinked at my response before snorting. I grinned at her. “It's using a body no human has ever experienced as though you had it your whole life. Seriously, it's like... actually, sometimes it's like being you,” I explained. “One second I'm in my normal body, the next I'm supercharged,” I thought of Frankenstrike and Feedback. “Sometimes literally. Then there are the weird powers, like being able to make indestructible crystals grow at will. Like, I can feel how I'm making it happen, but it's not in any way I can really explain.”

The green musclebound woman flipped her hair back, the long locks falling across her back. “That sounds sort of crazy. But then, my whole life has gotten pretty crazy since waking up yesterday.”

“You don't get used to it,” I said, talking to freaking She-Hulk while wearing an Omnitrix and watching a spy organization I'd helped rebuild prepare to test superhumans. “Seriously, the whole point of BRIDGE is to connect people with the weird world around them. Granted, your case is a bit more literal than we would have wanted.”

She laughed, then looked at me curiously. “I gotta say, you don't seem as weirded out around me as everyone else. I mean, you still look at my rack, sure.”

Cue my sputtering reaction. Damn it, I was trying my best here, she was just so... there. I'm only human... most of the time at least.

“But you also don't act all freaked out like everyone else, either,” she finished. She'd noticed my sputtering, but only smirked at me in response to it. “So what's up? You see a lot of women like me?”

“A few,” I answered without thinking. Superheroes almost always seem to fit in some level of super-attractive. Well, except for me. Which kinda sucked. “But it's mostly because I kind of expected it.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, confused.

Before I could explain, Thor landed on the pavement from out of nowhere, Hulk hitting the area next to him right afterward with one of his 'softer' landings. Following that, another APC came in.

“That's our cue,” I told Jennifer. “Do you mind helping me down?”

“Can't you just change into an alien and get down that way?” she asked.

“Kind of a waste of time and charge for a jump of... what is this, twenty feet up? Anyway, could you please...?”

“Sure,” she got up along with me and grabbed me under my shoulders before jumping off the hanger with me in tow. Her feet hit the floor with a slight boom that startled a few soldiers to point rifles at us before they calmed, and she gently put me down.

“Thanks, Glamazon,” I said, a smile coming to my face when she mouthed 'Glamazon?' in confusion. Oh, just wait, Walters. I got a whole list of nicknames made from decades of comics just waiting in the background.

We walked up to Thor and Hulk.

“Ah, Mahmoud, Jennifer!” Thor called, waving at us. “You got here early!”

“Yeah, I didn't have too much else going on today,” I said.

“When fight?” Hulk growled.

“Soon,” I told him, vibrations moving through my legs when he grumbled in response.

“Don't worry,” Thor told Hulk. “If the reports are true, this will be fun. A true bout!”

“Here's hoping,” Jennifer said behind me.

An SUV rolled past the gates then. The large car with a BRIDGE logo on the side came up to us and stopped. The driver got out followed by a few bodyguards, waiting for them to surround the car. Once the bodyguards were done, the driver opened the back door and Victoria Hand stepped out. She eyed us with confidence and walked over.

“Thor. Hulk. Dial... have you been given a codename yet, Mrs. Walters?” Victoria asked.

“Uh,” Jennifer shrugged. “No. Is that required?”

“It's good for marketing purposes. And for selling action figures,” I quipped.

“She-Hulk,” Hulk said, the ground rumbling with his declaration.

“Not the most creative name,” Jennifer said. Which... yeah, that was fair. “Eh, it works.”

Victoria scowled. Apparently, the fact Jennifer clearly didn't care about codenames annoyed her. Then again, Victoria, of all BRIDGE people I'd met in this world, was the closest to her counterpart in being a stiff no-nonsense sort of woman. In other words, the opposite of Jennifer.

“Very well... She-Hulk. Please, prepare to intervene with the others. While I know you aren't a combatant by nature, the possibility of one of the prisoners escaping is low enough that we can risk having you on guard. Dial, please prepare one of your more powerful transformations. I'd suggest... Four Arms,” she said the name with the sort of tone you'd hear the word 'vomit'. Apparently, she wasn't a fan of Ben's nicknames for his aliens. Just wait until she saw Upchuck.

I decided to ignore her clear distaste and just brought up the menu on my Omnitrix.

“Okay,” Victoria looked at the four of us before looking at the BRIDGE personnel in front of the APC's. “Let out the first group.”

Thor twirled his hammer and grinned, ready for whatever may come.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked. “I mean, they made a deal, you know?”

“Three of them made a deal,” Victoria said. “One was captured by you and made a deal afterward. Make no mistake, I don't trust that they'll remain loyal to SHI-BRIDGE,” she stumbled slightly on the last word. “If any of them try to escape custody, take them down,” she frowned. “Um. Please.”

“Wow, surprised you didn't choke on that 'please',” Jennifer said sarcastically. When Victoria glared at her, Jennifer only smiled back.

Huh. The two would make a good sitcom duo. Victoria as the no-nonsense one and Jennifer as the fun party girl, with the two constantly annoying the crap out of each other. Hell, I'd watch it.

As I thought up the newest hit on ABC, the first APC was opened, releasing a huge group of men armed and armored up for battle. They surrounded the area, pointing at the APC.

Following them came four people, all of them wearing black prison uniforms. First was Marian Pouncy, the concrete crunching beneath her feet as she hopped out. Melissa Gold came out next, the tiny woman almost hiding in the shadow of her giant friend. Helen Feliciano followed, the only Grappler I'd yet to meet. And fight. She looked around cockily before seeing Hulk and giving the big guy a grin.

The last person stepped out, saw me, and made a beeline in my direction. After an initial feeling of panic, I started walking towards her as well.

“Dial!” Victoria shouted in surprise.

I ignored her as the men with guns pointed at me in favor of meeting the woman across from me in the middle. She stared up at me, searching my face as I did the same.

“Hey, Davida,” I finally said.

The woman known as Titania smiled. “Huh. You haven't changed much.”

“Neither have you,” I looked over at Marian, Melissa, and Helen, who walked up to join us, then back at her, trying to channel Rath's toughness. “They're worried that you might try to run. Am I gonna have to worry about that too? Cause if so, I'll put mine up against yours.”

Thor laughed a deep belly laugh as he joined us. “Indeed! I'd take that bet,” his smile became challenging. Helen eyed him while Marian just looked nervous.

Hulk and She-Hulk came up to join us, and the eight of us shared glances as Victoria Hand and BRIDGE personnel watched nervously. Davida only chuckled after an awkward silence. “Yeah, we'll play nice. You guys saved my girl after all,” Davida nodded towards Helen, who suddenly looked embarrassed.

“Cool,” I looked over at Thor, who nodded at me.

“Does that mean we don't get to fight?” Jennifer seemed disappointed.

“On the contrary,” Victoria said, walking up to join us, looking a bit peeved. “After our initial test, you will engage each other in a series of spars.”

“Um,” Marian lifted a hand up, looking very shy. “Is it okay if I go last, then? I just, I don't deal with crowds very well,” she looked around at the large group around us with more uneasiness than a woman of her size and power should have. It was adorable.

“It okay,” Hulk growled, trying to sound comforting. “Hulk same way.”

“Just...” Victoria rubbed a hand on her face. “Just go over there,” she said, waving at a hanger.

“Hmm,” Thor mused as we followed her directions. “She isn't the most... relaxed person, is she?”

Looking back at Victoria as we went towards the hanger, I decided to just focus on the tests.

Time to punch big things!