The fine line between good and bad is always blurred.
Living the life of a fugitive for over a decade, Adeline is approached about a job prospect. The mission is simple; recover the Tesseract.
Little did she know at the time, but that one decision...
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"We gonna hunt this fella down? Or should I call Ghostbusters?"
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"Going after him is a dead end. I know I've tried. Like you said he's a ghost story."
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"Ghosts don't shoot bullets."
I loaned myself some of the hospital's resources to clean away the blood and disinfect the giant gashes on my body since it wasn't an option to ask a doctor or nurse. They would have to put me on record and it's bad enough they probably have me on the hospital's camera footage. It's not a huge issue for me however seeing as I've needed to fix myself up multiple times in the past, especially when I would come home from a bad night in the ring.
Sitting in the waiting room I'm flicking through the New York Times fighting sleep as I catch an unmistakable Steve Rogers stroll casually through the foyer. Big muscly form, broad shoulders and blonde hair that peaks out from his navy hoodie. I've been around the super soldier enough to pick him from any crowd. Let's be honest here though- how do you miss him? The man is a walking talking human tank. What does strike me as odd is the change of attire. Dropping the magazine back onto the tables messy stack I stroll casually after Steve who's now shoved his hands further into his hoodie pockets. Reaching the elevator I lean against the frame, raising an eyebrow "You know if you want to look inconspicuous I'd lose the hood."
