all this bad blood here [ la bou and robot ] let it dry

[a robot with human hair]

- -《&&ALL TH!S BAD BLOOD ❥ ◞ HERE⋮ WON`T YOU LET !T DRY❛ ━ ★&& 》
BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER
BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER
BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER BUT THOSE ARE THE DAYS THAT BIND US TOGETHER FOREVER
AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER xxxFOREVERxxx AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER
AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER xxxFOREVERxxx AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER
AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER xxxFOREVERxxx AND THOSE LITTLE THINGS WILL DEFINE US FOREVER

[soprano banshee]

lucy

gender
female
age
thirty
nationality
irish-american

personality traits
firm - hardworking - stubborn

[a robot with human hair]

LAUREL █ ▷ DAVNER .
██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x ██ x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx o1 . LARA xxxx o2 . TWENTY - FIVE xxxx
xx △ HUMOROUSxx △ OBSERVANTxx △ KNOWLEDGEABLExx △ FULL OF SNARKxx △ RESEARCHER FOR SHIELD // STARK IND.xxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx o1 . CAN COUNT TO THE 1OOO TH DECIMAL PLACE OF PI FROM MEMORY xxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx o2 . IS AN AVID COLLECTOR OF ANYTHING WITH BUTTERFLIES ON IT xxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx o3 . HAS A SEVERE ALLERGY TO SHELLFISH AND HAS A TATTOO OF A CRAB ON HER ANKLE xxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx strawberry swisher pt 3 ▼ dance gavin dance

[soprano banshee]

Her first clue that something was amiss was when the department had called in and told her not to come into work - her place of employment was not exactly teeming with police officers, as they were severly understaffed. Of course, the status of her job was the first thought in her mind, but, after the Chief, himself, reassured her that she was still employed by the New York Police Department, it was not a worry for very long. He spoke about how it was a “slow day” and they were cutting hours here and there.

That should have been the second clue, but she had accepted it without any sort of questioning.

It was when, a few hours later, after a trip to the gym, the grocery store, and the bank, Lucy had received yet another call from the department, that she realized something was wrong. His voice was urgent, something she clearly heard the moment he began to spoke. It was tainted in an awful attempt to muffle his anxiety, when it only alerted her more. Her voice, which held a subtle taste of Irish to it, was quick to tell him that she would be coming in, and ended the call. Almost as soon as she did, she threw on a jacket and put her half finished coffee into a plain, black travel mug. Just a few minutes after she had hit ‘end,’ she was locking her door and running out to hail a cab.

As soon as she stepped foot into the building, four men and two women, dressed to the nines in their suits, stepped in front of her path. She only barely stopped her movement in time to avoid a run in with them, but that did not prevent her eyebrows from knitting together and the edge of her lips pressed tight against her mouth. It was only when the Chief stepped forward, his own expression filled with worry, that she stepped back and held back a biting comment.

”Lucile, these people are here on an urgent matter. I tried to talk to them, but they are adamant that they speak with you.” She recognized the use of her full first name as a sign of his formality towards the six people. Her arms crossed over her chest and she gave the man standing at the front of the suited group a challenging look. The fifty-something year old man shuffled over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. ”Lucy, they are here with S.H.I.E.L.D.” Her hazel eyes looked up from her 5’2 up at his 6’ figure in shock. Then, slowly, they drew towards the patiently waiting group and slowly nodded.

”Fine.”

--

Two and a half hours later, her coffee sat cold, but not forgotten, in impound. Thirty or some meters away was its owner, locked in a nauseatingly bright room, with walls painted hospital white. The only color in the room was the simple brown table, which was slightly covered by her head. Her forehead was pressed against the surface, with her arms circled protectively around her noggin. Neatly trimmed nails tapped on the wood and short, sharp sighs left her mouth at an increasing rate. If that was not a proper sign of her annoyance, then her dark-jean covered leg bouncing up and down under the table, or the occasional impatient shift to get comfortable from her white tank-top clad torso should have been enough.

She would have stayed like that, stewing in her thoughts, had the only door out of her prison not just opened. Lucy's neck snapped her head upward to peer at who was walking it. Her posture did not improve when she realized that one of the two people was the famous gamma radiation specialist, and Avenger, Bruce Banner.

"Finally. Someone that can explain why on god's green earth I am here," she said, her accent coming out along with her annoyance.

OOC;; ******** ******** ********. my laptop is on the fritz, so no special layout or nuffin D:

[a robot with human hair]

Laurel had been up all night, yet again, staring at the large radar that took up four screens in her research facility. She had brewed a pitcher of coffee at the beginning of the long night, but it had gone cold hours ago from her completely forgetting about it. It was another typical night for the researcher, staring at her black and green computer screen, waiting to see if the program had actually worked and was not a defect like the last ten Stark had helped her write. Satellites were slowly scanning the surface of Earth, reading for any fluctuations of radiation that would fit the description she and Banner had discussed over the last week. It had to be above 5000 Bq but below 7850 Bq. And even then they had to look at how long the radiation was going. If it were just a few seconds, or even a fraction of when, then they would have to wait until the next rotation around to see if it were really of any concern. However, if it gave off a much larger emission, that's when Laurel would jump from her chair and go running down the hall to Banner's office to wake up - calmly, that is - and tell him of her findings.

She close her eyes, and she swears it was only for a second, but when an shrill alarm goes off from the computer and the screens flash with a reading, Laurel is almost ready to smash them into the ground and go to bed. She finds that the rotation has made it back to New York, and the enlarged satellite image of downtown NYC makes Laurel furious, because more than likely it's reading Jane Foster, who they currently have in their medical labs doing tests on to see how the Aether affected her, but the picture is on the opposite side of the city, so Laurel slowly sits up, cracking the stiffness in her back away, and pressed down on the keyboard so the alarm will stop and so the satellite will do its job.

After rubbing at her eyes, trying to get the bleary sleepy vision to go away, and cursing herself for not drinking some coffee, the screen begins to display streets and little walking pinpoints that were people. A few of them are moving faster than others - joggers, she assumes - but they're all white. The point she's looking for is bright green. Laurel kicks a few more keys, mumbling to herself when her fingers slip and press the wrong one. The image goes closer, and closer and closer until --

"Smither, Lucile. 89C West O'Neal Ave, Manhattan, New York. Radiation emission is... 6987 Bqs?! Holy s**t, Banner!" Laurel barely makes it out of her chair before she's tripped over her feet. Scrambling back into vertical position, Laurel goes back into a quick run across the lab and down the hall, continuing to yell for her fellow sicentist. "Bruce! Bruce, wake up, you have to check out this reading. Bruce! Wake up!" She shakes her comrade, to which he wobbly picks up his head from his desk and turns his head in the direction of Laurel with still-closed eyes. And then, slowly, Laurel was able to drag Bruce Banner back down the hall to the blinking computer screen where she pointed excitedly at the point. Banner rubbed at his eyes one more time before picking up the phone that was placed beside the computers and dialing an extension to a certain playboy, billionaire philanthropist.

"Stark? Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep. We got a reading, and it's coming in loud and clear."

Once the two scientists had a few cups of coffee in them and were refreshed from long nights in the office, both met up in the elevator that would take them from Stark Tower down to the correct floor and where they were currently holding a certain NYPD officer that was giving off a ridiculous amount of radiation. If anyone were around her for too long, there could be disastrous effects.

"This is one of those good cop - bad cop things, isn't it?" Laurel excitedly asked, but sarcasm still laced her voice. Bruce just gave her a look, one that told her she had been spending far too much time around Tony and his cop movies. From the lack of response, however, Laurel has her answer. "I'm sooo going to be the bad cop this time." By then the elevator has stopped, dinging to notify them that they are on the floor they had asked JARVIS to take them to, and both step out. Laurel has a stack of files in her arms, most of the ranging from anything they have on the Tesseract, the Aether and the Chitauri Sceptar. All of which gave off the same, or almost the same, amount of radiation that Lucile Smither was currently emitting.

In the small interrogation room that they had put her in, Laurel has to ready herself for the 'bad cop' role she's given herself, all the while Bruce just watches her with a slightly amused expression, before they both step into the room. "Finally. Someone that can explain why on god's green earth I am here." The girl has a thick accent, something that Laurel had been half-expecting after reading through the officer's file. Irish American. Thirty years ago. A member of the NYC Police Force for over six years. Received the Department Award last Fall. On good standing. None of the police business made much sense in Laurel's head. The scientist loudly sits down on the opposite side of the table, half-slamming the files onto the brown table before clasping her hands together. Bruce just pulls the chair out from under the table quietly and slowly sits down, pulling his glasses from his lab coat pocket and puts them on. Laurel slides him a thin folder from the top of her stack. Laurel tries her best to be the bad cop, staring with hard eyes at the woman, but it seems to come off more as a creeper vibe than a "Watch what you say" one.

Miss Smither, we'd like to ask you a couple questions. If that is alright, of course. Nothing too serious, just some information to help fill in a few blanks in our files--"

"Where were you the day of the Chitauri Attack on the city? Did you come in contact with any of them? Have you noticed any weird symptoms the last few weeks? Answer these quickly, we're on a time restraint." Laurel was surprised at how many words stringed together at once. Usually she spoke in small sentences. Maybe it was the coffee or lack of rest...

Bruce sighs and rubs at the space above his nose before closing the little file and waving his hand in Laurel's direction. "What she said."

[soprano banshee]

He was methodical - everything he did, he did for a reason, and he did it with care. While some people preferred to make errors until they found the correct procedure, Bruce was one for planning and precision, so that he could cut his errors in half, or even completely. He could not claim that his was the correct way of going about things, as with some people, such as Stark, making more mistakes could lead to something greater than the original goal. However, with his…”condition,” he did not have as many chances to do things incorrectly, before it came back to bite him, or what would most likely be the case, someone else, in the a**.

Bruce Banner sat in the peace and quiet of his office in Stark Tower. His warm, mahogany brown eyes drifted lazily to the clock. 1:37 A.M. A hand came up to rub his face with a strange sense of finality. If he did not go to sleep soon, he was going to make a mistake, and if he made a mistake, it would only lead to more and more until his frustration grew to be too much. And when it came to what him and Laurel, a fellow researcher in SHIELD and jointly associated with Stark Industries, were looking for, an error could cause their wait to grow even more.

After the incident with Thor, Jane, and Malekith, the department he was a part of had another surge of activity. Having dealt with the Tesseract some months ago, and what had been described as the Aether much more recently, Bruce could not help but wonder what was going to be next. Would another powerful object reveal itself in the future? If so, would they be ready? Both with the Tesseract and the Aether, cities were left devastated, and who knew if something stronger came about.

Despite all of the thoughts that pelted his mind, his mind eased them away, replaced by idle, shallow thoughts. Soon enough, the only sound in the office was the soft snores that slipped through his lips.

Bruce had only thought he’d been asleep for a couple of minutes when his door slammed open and a voice called his name. Through the haze, he thought he recognized it as a female’s voice, but with the fog still thick in his sense, it was difficult to tell. Before he could retreat back into the realm of sweet unconsciousness, he was shaken, rather vigorously, until he turned to the origin of the source. His eyes were still shut, but that must not have mattered to the voice, because he was suddenly guided slash dragged out of the room and down the hall. It was only when he was in the middle of the corridor that he was able to open his eyes.

His mind registered light brown hair and the smaller frame of a woman, connected it to the voice that broke through his sleep, to come to the conclusion that it was Laurel. Had he been awake, he would have been able to distinguish his colleague from another woman in a split-second. Unfortunately, with only a few hours of sleep, his brain was just barely beginning to chug along.

As soon as his eyes hit the computer screen, he found himself much more awake. He rubbed at his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time, before grabbing at his phone to call Tony. ”Stark? Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep. We got a reading in, and it’s coming in loud and clear.” His eyes remained locked on the screen, even as he ended the call without so much as a goodbye.

---

It took a few cups of coffee to get his mind working at normal speed again. By the time they were heading down the elevator to the interrogation chamber, as Stark so adequately called it, it was already nine o’clock in the morning. Laurel’s arms were bursting with papers, and her excitement was clear on her face. While she looked pleased as a peach at the new development, there was sarcasm dripping from her words. He could only give her an incredulous look when she talked about the whole “good cop, bad cop” act, and he couldn’t stop himself from throwing Tony a look, before he split from them once they hit their correct floor.

Bruce and Laurel made their way to the room they learned that “Lucile Smither” was sitting in. As soon as the door opened and the woman spoke, Laurel was pelting Lucile, who did not look as tired but appeared as if she emotionally tired, with questions. Bruce, either too tired or too amused to interject, simply nodded and took a seat, waving a hand towards her. ”What she said.”

Lucile gave both of them a wary look, before she ran a hand through the loose brown locks of her hair. ”Wait, wasn’t that awhile ago? I thought I had filled out all the paperwork already…” She frowned and sat up more, but ultimately decided to answer the questions. ”I was on duty and one of the first responders when reports of the Chitauri attacks came in. I was just a block away from where most of the stuff was happening. I was helping people into the subway tunnels to avoid attacks. No, I did not interact with them, and no, I have not been experiencing any peculiar symptoms, other than my allergies acting up.” Lucile huffed and eyed one of the folders he had in his hands. ”Y’know, I understand that S.H.I.E.L.D. is awfully secretive with their business, but mind fillin’ me in on what exactly I’m here for?”

Just a few seconds after she spoke her question, there was a soft, but noticable rumble. At first, Bruce thought it was simply thunder, but as it grew and grew, he quickly rejected that idea. Before long, an alarm began to blare, similar to a fire alarm, but with a much deeper tone. Lucile’s eyes grew wide with shock, but they molded into an expression of control and confidence. ”Now, I’m sure that’s not just for me, eh?”

Then, another sound arose, but this one human. "An alien space craft just landed, and like hell are we gonna have another Loki!" Bruce wanted to slap his forehead at the man who sounded a lot like a five year old child. Bruce rose from his seat to open the door, only to be met with the sight of Stark running down the hall, with Steve Rogers close behind. When did Steve get here? Then, to add to the spectacle, Natasha Romanoff walked quickly, but calmly after the two men. She looked at Bruce and nodded ahead. "I think we are going to need you at the scene, Banner."

He sighed. It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it? He turned around to look at Laurel. "Could you take Miss Smither to the med bay and run some tests on her. I need to go check on what landed."

ooc;; WOWZERS. i guess this is what happens when a spider lands on me in my bed and i can't get to sleep X'D A layout will come in the morning for the both of them.

[a robot with human hair]

"Get ready to make impact!" Peter yells over the blaring alarms that continue to go off in his beautiful Milano. Gamora was saying something about how stupid he was right now, entering the atmosphere of a planet that had limited contact with outside beings, but Peter just ignored her and continued to sing along with "Spirit in the Sky" finding it slightly ironic as he did so. He barely missed what he suspected was a satellite, and Rocket cursed him in some weird raccoon language that Peter wasn't so sure about. But he had a good idea of what the furry fellow was saying to him. They hit the sound barrier, causing a loud blast to be heard for hundreds of miles, causing anyone outside to look up and stare at his beautiful, beautiful space ship.

Somewhere in the distance there was an old fellow, dressed in a simple lounge outfit as he watered his lawn, with graying hair and dim tinted glasses that watched as his ship got closer and closer to what is New York City. "Oh not this again."

"WHOOOOO!" Peter celebrates, throwing his hands up in the air as soon as the ship wins its battle against the gravity of the planet. She flattens out, some bits of the metal alloy charred by the friction of the air pressure. Peter unhooks his safety belt and jumps up, running over to the music player that leads throughout the whole ship, and quickly changes to track 9: Cherry Bomb. "Hello daddy, hello mom! I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb!"

Gamora and Drax stare at him as he does so, and Rocket continues to consult the scared little sprout that Groot has grown into. Peter continued to dance and sing along, letting the auto-pilot of the ship land them onto solid ground, which just happened to be the middle of Central Park. "Alright gang, let's split up! Scooby and Shaggy," Peter points to Rocket and Groot, before pointing at Drax. "You to go with Velma to the second floor. Daphne and I will check the basement." The alien lifeforms simply stared at him with blank looks, Drax seeming the most confused by his un-noticed reference. Peter just grins, clicks his heels together and goes running straight out of the ship. This would be his first time back on Earth since Yondu had taken him from the field beside the hospital his mother had been at.

Gamora, of course, was not far behind him, with Drax and Rocket taking up the rear. Rocket had plucked Groot from his little pot and placed in his his chest pocket. The small sprout looked around at the different trees and colors of leaves, his little roots wrapping around the loose threads of the pocket. It was so... green. Peter stared around curiously as he took in all the plants and buildings. They were so primitive compared to the planets and galaxies he had been to. They were still practically cavemen.

"Halt! This is the New York Police Department! We must ask you to please not go any further until the federal government as sent liaisons for your people."

Peter just laughs. He stretches his arms above his head before bring them back down, clasping his fingers together on the back of his neck. These Terrans were funny. (Of course he was half-Terran, but shhhh they didn't know that.) Suddenly, a bright red bullet comes flying through the sky, leaving behind a trail of steam and particle bits that soon dissipated into the air. It landed a good twenty feet away from the entrance of the Milano, and Peter was very fascinated, even more so when the figure turned out to be a man in a metal alloy suit. And that's where it all began...

Barely an hour later, Peter was excitedly chatting to Tony Stark about all the thing she had missed. The Spice Girls. Cellphones. (Although he had something much much better once he was told what it was.) And Twitter. Peter knew that if he stayed on his planet for awhile, he was going to need Twitter. Gamore and Drax were busy being poked and prodded by a few randomers wearing white coats. How does your skin get that shade? Are these markings for orient or a sign of social class? Doo youu speeeak Eengliiish? Peter wasn't very much surprised when Gamora punched one of the two, scaring off the second that had gone unharmed.

"So, lemme get this straight. This planet is still being powered by fossilized dinosaur gunk and fossilized dinosaur rocks? Dude, what happened to solar power? Nuclear reactions? Natural gases?!" Peter bangs his fist against the brown table, standing up quickly from his metal chair. Rocket and Drax sit in the corner, both watching the man in the red suit and the dark haired-white coat wearing one that seems extremely uncomfortable with so many people in one small room. Gamora speaks excitedly with the woman with red hair and black suit. They trade secrets of how to torture men without using weapons.

And so begins the great dicussion of renewable energy between the Legendary Star-Lord and Iron Man.

[soprano banshee]

The woman made quick work of getting to the point after Lucy had spoken. She wanted to groan, but also found herself slightly amused - was this an attempt at the good cop, bad cop scenario? Both the urge to roll her eyes and smirk was great, but she was able to suppress it with ease. Having worked in law enforcement just a few years shy of a decade, Lucile learned quickly to be patient and to have self control. It was not easy when she dealt with criminals, lawyers, cranky coworkers, and sometimes, angry parents mad that their child was not let off the hook for smoking crack, on a daily basis. The life of an NYPD officer was not an easy one, she would be the first to say that, but it was also something incredibly rewarding.

Lithe fingers ran through her long brown hair, having been recently released from the confines of her hairband, now sitting tightly on her wrist. "Wait, wasn’t that awhile ago? I thought I had filled out all the paperwork already…" Preparing for telling her story, she sat up and rested her back on the chair. "I was on duty and one of the first responders when reports of the Chitauri attacks came in. I was just a block away from where most of the stuff was happening. I was helping people into the subway tunnels to avoid attacks. No, I did not interact with them, and no, I have not been experiencing any peculiar symptoms, other than my allergies acting up." Hazel eyes fell down to the file that Bruce Banner was flipping through, wondering what exactly was in it. She was sure that in one them was her profile, which she was sure was absolutely spotless in terms of illegal activity.

”Y’know, I understand that S.H.I.E.L.D. is awfully secretive with their business, but mind fillin’ me in on what exactly I’m here for?”

A faint rumble caused her to pause, and look up at the ceiling. She thought that today was supposed to be clear, with only a chance of cloudiness. Before either one of them could answer or shoot down her question, alarms began to blare throughout the facility. Her eyes widened and darted across the bland room, instinctually looking for the source or for any clue what was wrong. It took her a second to realize that nothing had changed in the room, and that whatever it was, was above them.

Bruce rose from his seat to check out the door on what exactly was going on, only to be met with the sound of a man hollering and footsteps against the hard floor. Lucy craned her head to the side to get a peek out the door, watching two men who she swore was Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, trailed by a calm woman in all black. Her eyebrows knit together, and she looked at the woman, who had yet to introduce herself, in confusion. Once again, she was prevented from speaking with the dark haired man dressed in a white lab coat excused himself, and told the lady to take Lucy to the medbay. She frowned deeply, but stood up anyways.

"I'll come willingly and without hassle as long as you don't continue to try to play bad cop." The two of them made their way out of the room and began to walk to what she could only assume was the medical wing of the building. THe walk was not very long, and before she knew it, she was sitting on a bed with a band tied tightly around her upper arm and the woman jabbing a needle into her arm.

"I'm pretty sure I've taken bullets more gentle than that."

"Oh, boo hoo, you're fine. Just let me draw your blood in peace."

"Well, I would have liked to stay home or work, but I guess we all don't get what we want."

Taking out the needle was none kinder than putting it in, and she felt it. The woman turned around to grab some other supplies, probably a bandaid for the p***k on the other side of her elbow. Lucy had been looking away at the other medical supplies in the room, when she heard a sound of annoyance from her "medical professional."

"What?"

She was not met with an answer, only her taking Lucy's arm and examining it closer to her eyes.

"You healed."

"Huh?"

"The p***k, its gone. I can't find it anywhere."

She frowned and peered at her arm, too. The woman was right, as there was not a scratch on her. She took a finger and ran it over the area she had taken blood from. Smooth as a baby's bottom. A mixture of nervousness and excitement coursed through her, and it seemed that the other brunette was just as excited. She ran tests on her, varying from brain scans to even taking her hand and intentionally cutting it. All of them led to one conclusion - for whatever reason, her body was healing at an alarmingly fast rate. The cut across her palm healed in a matter of ten seconds, the only thing left over was the blood that had risen above her skin.

Now, the two of them were heading back to the interrogation room, where they would meet back up with Doctor Banner. Laurel, as she learned the woman was called, would report her findings, and, much to Lucy's chagrin, order more tests. As Laurel opened the door, a flurry of noise reached her ears. As the two entered, it was obvious that not only had Bruce (and Tony, the black-suited woman, and Steve) beat them, but they brought along some misfits. Suddenly, Lucy felt incredibly small at having more than half of the Avengers in the room, along with a raccoon , a tree in a pot (that was swaying slightly), a beefy man with red tattoos all over, a green woman conversing with the other woman in the room, and the one that appeared most human out of them all, a man conversing with Tony Stark (in which she thought she heard the word Twitter dropped).

Lucy looked at each of them in turn, then turned her head towards Laurel with the most neutral expression she could muster. "When I woke up this morning, I don't think I could have imagined any of this happening." she said, her Irish stronger than ever in her voice.

OOC;; and boom goes the dynamite.

[a robot with human hair]

"You healed."

"Huh?"

"The p***k, its gone. I can't find it anywhere."

Laurel stared down at the crease of the girl's arm, looking for the small pinpoint that should be a drop of blood from the incision that she had just made while drawing blood from the woman. She quickly sealed it up and was sure to label it so the lab workers would know to make it one of the top priorities. Afterwards, Laurel had to do everything in her power not to stab the woman with the needle again, just so she could watch as it, supposedly, "healed". Laurel kept her eye on the cop at all times. Laurel then continued with her tests; brain scans to, after much restraint and happiness, cut a three inch long line into the woman's hand. The cut healed in seconds, only leaving behind the sliver of blood that had been released from the cut. Laurel almost clicked her heels, she was so excited and happy.

There were so many more tests that she needed to do now, but most of them had to be done at either Shield's headquarters, or in Stark's own personal lab. The girl was still giving off radiation, Laurel was certain of that much. Now, they had to complete the mission of finding how why she was emitting radiation and where it was coming from in her body. So, once Laurel did what she could, and a little more, the two women packed themselves up and moved to go back to the interrogation room so they could meet back up with Bruce after he came back from wherever the Avengers had taken him to.

However, when they arrived back at their little interrogation room, where Laurel had given in to being the bad cop and became her usual self, rambling on to Lucille about her blood and all the things they were going to test it for, the room was filled way over its maximum limit. Laurel felt more uneasy about the amount off people, rather than the origin of the people.

"Anthony! What are all these people doing in my interrogation room? I had it reserved for a reason."

Lucille speaks from beside Laurel, "When I woke up this morning, I don't think I could have imagined any of this happening." Laurel looks at the woman with pursed lips before back at the genius billionaire philanthropist, and crosses her arms over her chest. Her foot begins to tap out a steady beat. However, one of the new inhabitants of the planet, the one that looks most human like, walks up to the women and casually begins conversation.

"Hello, ladies. You probably haven't heard of me, but I'm the legendary Star-Lord. I was born here, had a rad childhood. Went to space, made a name for myself. But you can call me Peter." He goes to kiss Laurel's hand, who snatches it away and stomps over to Stark to make him clear out her interrogation room, but Peter stays by the other female, and goes to kiss her hand. "May I ask the name of such a beautiful woman?" Gamora silently seethed in the back corner of the room.

[soprano banshee]

As soon as Bruce joined up in the hallway with the other three Avengers, he discovered just how high alert it is. Tony had been yelling something about more aliens, and it seemed like the only people that weren't in a panic was Natasha and partly himself (Steve looked like he was mentally preparing himself for the worse). Bruce joined behind them, then walked at a brisk pace with Natasha to the elevator. In just a matter of minutes, the four of them were in Stark's lobby, with Clint joining up with them from the side. He imagined they would have all taken an SUV to the location

Unfortunately (or fortunately for Bruce, depending on what it was like at the crash site), Tony had taken off on his own without any warning, leaving the other four to find their own means of transportation. Natasha and Steve took his motorcycle, and SHIELD had provided a large, menacing SUV. It only took them a few minutes, but the time that all four had arrived, Tony was already chatting someone up. The doctor paused, and took in all that had happened in the park.

A blue and orange air craft stood a hundred and some yards away from them, but it looked like it was massive. He had never seen any such technology on earth, and that point was proven even more when he looked down slightly and saw four creatures lingering around it as agents began to swarm the location. The NYPD had been the first to respond, but SHIELD's suited agents were quickly taking over the scene. The four people were all completely different from the next - there was a blue man with red markings all over his flesh that reminded him slightly of the other guy. A woman with green tinted skin was giving agents death glares as they approached with their weapons. And then right next to her was what he thought looked like a raccoon, with something in his jumpsuit pocket. Bruce only blinked as the five of them, one of which seemed happy to go with Tony, were herded into vehicles. All he could do was look at the other Avengers and shrug. At least he didn't have to call out the big guy.

An hour later, they were all sitting in the same interrogation room they had Ms. Smither confined to. Bruce sat awkwardly in a chair next to Tony, uncomfortable with all the people in the room. The man named Peter had revealed that he was from "Terra" originally, but had left sometime during his childhood. That being said, the scientists seemed to ignore Peter and fueled all of their attention into the other three. Sometime when he was looking away, he had heard a yelp and two of the white coated people ran away from the woman named Gamora. The other scientists took this as their cue to go on break, and quickly left the room, fearful that they too would end up like the guy who had gotten socked. Then, Natasha went over to talk Gamora, and if he heard correctly, he thought they were talking about something along the lines of torture and men. He could only shake his head in response.

Suddenly, the table was pounded, causing Bruce to jump slightly. Tony looked at him, his eyebrows having risen at both Peter, who slammed the wooden furniture with his fists, and Bruce, had had been startled from it. "I think this is more of your job, Tony. I don't know why you insist on having me here." He frowned and pushed his chair further away from the table, only to rest his legs on top of the surface.

"Think of it as Avengers bonding time." He frowned and played with the new assortment of papers he had from the five (counting the tiny tree in the raccoon's pocket) and Lucile's background check.

He had not been paying attention to Peter, so was surprised when Bruce heard the hysterical Irish voice.

"Ahahaha, so - no, you're telling me - what?!"

"You didn't give Lucile anything, did you, Laurel?" He questioned the scientist as she marched over to complain that Tony took the interrogation room for the aliens. The woman looked like she was about to explode, as if she was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Bruce watched as she took back her hand and used it to shove at Peter's chest, clearly annoyed with his flirtatious actions. But, there was something more to it all.

"So, I'm accused of being radiation threat, I can't die, and you're supposed to be Peter Quill?! The kid that had disappeared twenty six years ago? My-" Lucy paused before she could break down any further. She knew the name Star Lord - she had heard Peter's mother call him that on several occasions, enough that it was engrained in her mind. "God, Lucy, if this is a dream, wake up!" Just in case it somehow wasn't, her hand made for the door knob, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it had not been locked. She swung it open and marched out, not bothering to close it as she walked furiously away from the room. Her hands fell onto her face and she thought she was going to have to be admitted into an insane asylum after all of this.

Bruce just stared at the open door, the room having hushed enough to listen to what was going on between Peter and Lucile.