ᴀ s s ᴇ ᴍ ʙ ʟ ᴇ

It takes him a while to figure out how to open it, curiosity growing with the more time it takes, and he finds himself stumped at the odd declaration of [ATTACHMENT]. It’s only by rapidly pressing his fingers all over the screen that it actually opens, and he finds a moving scene right before his eyes, actions reflected in bright pale blues.

It opens with bloodshed. 

He finds his stomach churn the moment he sees a blade plunge into skin, and is hit the automatic need to get rid of this thing, but his limbs refuse to move. What he feels is horror and pity for the man bleeding out on the ground, but it soon warps into something worse once he hears that name. The name he knew, the name he was all too familiar with.

It’s because of this that the realization he knows the other speaker peaks. What is shown nondescript black, but all he sees and hears is familiarity. False promises of hope, of protection, and the more he hears Adam speak the more his fingers shake.

This wasn’t what he signed up for. This isn’t what he agreed to. The buildup is there, and all he can do is stare, mouth agape and dry as a desert as everything he’s known so far is proved to be nothing more than a facade. He hopes the speech is the very end, but once metal glints as it’s raised in the air, it’s all Pamoon can do to swallow the scream once the outcome becomes painfully clear.

A sword swings, and glass shatters violently as the device is broken once more, hurled against the wall with inhuman force.

It hadn’t really been his fault, per-say, but moreso the fault of the scientists, who had taken little steps to bother sending instructions with his....device. He didn’t even know what to call it, besides a glowing screen that did nothing despite his best attempts at smashing his thumb on the button about 40 times in a row.

Accidents repeat themselves, and it seems the clumsy grip of his hands meant the poor thing had finally met it’s end. It lay on the sidewalk, glass screen shattered and glittering in the sun with all the technical niknaks inside exposed. Clearly giving the thing to a technology inept child wasn’t the best decision.

His humiliation aside, he could try to forage it, and for that he’d have to try and wave away the person who’d nearly stepped on a shard of glass as he kneeled down to try and scoop up the pieces with his bare hands.

“P-Please be careful--!”

There’s the rustle of debris, and the abrupt tossing of a rather sizeable piece of building. Followed the waving of a white-armored hand, before Pamoon himself crawls out of the space he was trapped in and gets to unsteady feet.

 Before he speaks, however, small fingers rub his head, coming away stained in the slightest from a sharp cut on the side on his face. Otherwise, despite the impossibility, it seems to have done him little true harm besides shock. 

So, an enrollment form. He’d gone to school before. Easy, right? 

Except he can’t understand half the words on this page.

On Valentine’s Day you awaken to find a bundle of pink roses at your door! Upon further examination you will find a card that reads:

TO: Pamoon

FROM: Ava Ire

I am very excited to get to know you and become friends!

There’s a surprised blink to see flowers in front of his apartment door, and obviously the first thought is that they’re for one of his roommates. After all, who would send him flowers? Especially on this ‘holiday’, as it was described.

He had taken it inside to put on the table, but a card falls on the floor, hastily picked up once he notices it. Pamoon was just planning to check who they were for so he could leave them in front of their door, but the sight of his name causes him to freeze, nearly dropping the flowers in shock.

There is little written, but it’s enough to make the skin of his cheeks warm. Sure, he had plenty back home, but somebody saying how much they’d like to be friends with him...it was a little embarrassing. And yet, at the same time, it was incredibly nice. To say having no friends would be a fear of his wouldn’t be wrong (a died-down one), and this did wonders for the nerves. The card is lightly pressed to his chest for a moment before a smile curls across his face in the emptiness of the apartment living room.

The sirens are deafening, and he can taste smoke on his tongue--unpleasant and ashen. He knows the signs on fire, but the sirens are new, and they’re hurting his ears.

So this was one of those ‘cellphones’. It’s...odd. Nothing he’s ever really held before. He’s seen modern things from a blurry, far-off distance before, and saw them up close after arriving here, but actually owning or holding one of these was a foreign experience at best.

For a moment, he simply stares, then he tries to fiddle with it. Turning it upside down, rolling it around in his fingers, tilting it this way and that. He reaches up to attempt to press what seems to be a button on the top...and finds both his armor and his tiny fingers not built for this sort of things.

Oh.

“Ah--!”

MARVEL’S JESSICA JONES sentence meme.or, send  ╳  for a random sentence that my muse will say to yours.  

“There won’t be risking anything. I’m capable of protecting myself, despite how young I may be.