walk it off

* 02 a text asking for advice — What color shirt should I wear on a date?

* 10 a cheesy text — What do you call a pig who does karate? A pork chop.

* a text containing a picture — Made a new friend today. Got me a real keeper, huh?

Coffee.

Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee. Her hands jittered in excitement, the largest possible cup in her hand as she looked to return for a refill– and to use the same cup, of course, she wasn’t a monster. Normally, most human delicacies didn’t affect her, which she’d always attributed to her alien-super-speed-metabolism, or whatever they explained to her. However, perhaps wisely, the Titans had kept coffee away from her. Maybe they’d known she’d react this way, but either way, she was ecstatic to have it now, unlimited, without anyone telling her what she could and COULDN’T do. 

Kory’s head jerked to the side at the sound of Steve’s voice, a small twitch in her eye as she looked down to where he lifted his art. It took her a moment to realize his question, focusing her eyes in before she gasped. Loudly.

Her free hand shot out, slapping repeatedly at the unknown man’s shoulder as she leaned forward, taking more closely in his talent. 

“WOOOOOOOW!” She smiled brightly at him, then bringing her eyes back to the art, tilting her head to the side to appreciate the details. She lifted a manicured nail, tapping the paper once before nodding excitedly, looking back over to him. “You SHOULD! I would buy art from you any day, you are so good!”

She looked back to it once more, nodding to agree with her words. “I have made so many new friends in this world, I would pay you to draw them so I can remember them forever!”

In all his years, Steve had met a lot of people, but none never quite matched the energy of the woman sitting next to him. He saw her with the biggest cup the cafe could offer, practically performing a jitterbug on her way to and fro, and fought back a laugh. Not even Tony could beat her buzz. It was impressive.

Or alarming. Possibly both.

“Thanks. I appreciate the enthusiasm. Nobody’s been more excited about a few scribbles than you.” 

Steve smiled. “The more people you can bring, the better. I’d start with you, though, so you could see what you’d be paying for.” She’d make an appealing subject. Easily.

* a text that wasn’t meant for the receiver — I told you, I knew it couldn't be someone at the Arconia. Serial killers never go after people in their own neighborhoods.

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑬 .    (   a  collection  of  texting  prompts .  receiver of the meme  is  implied  to  be  the  sender  of  the  text .   )

Steve was lucky that his own universe was similar to the one he’d been teleported to. Some of the others Wanda had spoken to didn’t have that comfort, and the learning curve was steep. Still, they were somewhere different, confusing, and Wanda sympathized with the isolation they were surely experiencing. She hadn’t been teleported to an entirely different universe, but she liked to think that losing Sokovia was similarly troubling. Her country had completely disappeared, and she to this day wondered if she was partially responsible for its fall.

“Whole Foods is one of my favourite stores,” Wanda said with a smile. “Growing up, we never had anything like that, it was mostly markets. I found it a bit overwhelming at first.” Overwhelming was an understatement, but Steve would understand that, Wanda expected. He had been time displaced twice now. “Do you find Amazon a bit depressing, too?” Wanda asked, bemused. “It’s so impersonal and… large.”

Wanda smiled at Steve’s reply. “Pietro was the same,” she said gently. After Westview, her grief had changed, become less of a monster and more of a ghost. She still suffered, but acknowledging Pietro made him feel alive, and sometimes, Wanda needed that. “Do you like having the serum?” She asked curiously as she began preparing scrambled eggs. “Our powers are so different, I’m always curious about yours.” Physical powers were a mystery to Wanda, even her brother’s. “Yes, it was okay. No matter how much time I spend trying to understand this multiverse, it’s confusing, like a blindspot. I may have to consult more texts,” Wanda admitted with a sigh. “How has your morning been?”

"Same here.” The way the city changed startled Steve after he got out of the ice. Gristede’s was so much smaller than the Targets and the Walmarts. You could get to know people when you shopped. The world was more claustrophobic back then. Not safer, nor better nor worse, but at least familiar to Steve in a manner that he missed. “I do. It’s so soulless now. I hope it collapses in our lifetimes.”

Steve didn’t need a stronger indication of being another time than the way Wanda said Pietro’s name. It was like the weight of the past eased off her body ever so slightly. Grief could only stick around for so long. “I do and don’t.” He didn’t when he reflected on what he lost but he could only do that for a little while before Steve remembered what the serum helped him accomplish. “It’s changed my life, but I think I would be worse off without it.” He glanced at her, wondering why he had never asked her the following question before. “Do you enjoy having your powers?”

Peace seemed elusive. For years, Wanda had been attempting to understand her powers, and understand her place in the world. Tragedy would always strike when she relaxed or least expected it, beginning with her parents death, and ending with her stint in Westview. At times, she missed it. Perhaps that was wrong, corrupt, but she had control there and she had joy in the form of Vision and her children. Of course, nothing could replace the hole that Pietro’s death had caused, but for a moment… Wanda sighed loudly, attempting to control her thoughts. The more she dwelled on the past, the more likely it was that her chaos magic would take control once more. 

Aimlessly, Wanda roamed the streets. Ideally, she wished to find some semblance of the multiverse reopening, similar to the energy in Westview, but thus far, her search was futile. Eventually, she ended up in a park and sat in the grass. She closed her eyes and began meditation, feeling the energy around her as she levitated. Idly, she twined a red blast of magic around her finger. When she felt someone approach, she immediately sunk to the ground. “I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I’m not threat, I’m just… meditating,” Wanda explained. Unfortunately, the public was not on her side. “Are you frightened?” /@multiversalhq

Steve was not supposed to be here.

This line of thinking was all too familiar. Instead of the glittering streets of a newer New York, however, he was in the newest version of Central Park, if the sandwich boards lining the walkways were anything to go by. The Plaza Suite? Take Me Out? Steve had never heard of these. What year was it this time? Slightly afield in the future, clearly, but there was no telling exactly when. Steve sighed and started walking. He’d find a signpost, then a street, then a cab. For all their differences and more recent bad blood, he doubted Tony would turn him away from Stark Tower.

Hopefully.

Before Steve could so much as hail a taxi, something unusual caught his eye. In New York City, that took a lot. He approached the mass of red, quickly recognizing Wanda once she touched down. She wasn’t the Wanda he knew, though. “You don’t frighten me,” said Steve, “but if you could tell me when we are, I would really appreciate it.”

Turned out, being a superhero and a super spy and a circus freak didn’t pay great. Who would’ve thought? Thankfully, Clint had never been interested in any of ‘em for the money. The circus had started out as a place to stay, became a family, and then got too corrupted for Clint to stay. SHIELD replaced them, made Clint feel like he was doing the right thing for once, and the rest was history.

Steve had always been doing the right thing though, a real beacon of light, and one of Clint’s heroes before and after meeting the guy. “For real, man, you’re good,” Clint assured Steve. And he really was! Plus, he seemed passionate about it, and that was kinda what mattered most with art as far as Clint was concerned.

At Steve’s question, Clint shrugged a shoulder. “Nah, it just doesn’t feel right anymore.” Not without Nat, anyway, and Clint enjoyed his space. “I have a little apartment near here. It’s kinda divey, but it’s mine.” Having a home that was his, even if he struggled to pay for it, also went a long way for Clint’s security. He’d been homeless too many times in the past. “When I was a kid, we were in a lot of foster homes, and most of ‘em didn’t work out,” he explained. “I like having my own place because of it.”

At Steve’s question, Clint immediately recognized the kind gesture and chose to accept it. They were friends, after all. “Thanks,” he muttered, a little sheepish and took a seat across from where Steve was. When Cap got back, he asked, “How’d you get into art?”

"Thanks.” Compliments usually made Steve awkward, but Clint was a friend. He meant it. “If you ever want something drawn, let me know.” He couldn’t imagine what Clint would ask for, unless it was immortalizing his dog. (Not a bad idea, Steve mused, keeping that suggestion quiet. How far was Christmas?)

“I know what you mean.” The States as a whole were becoming that way for Steve, ironically enough. He never felt more surveilled than he did when he was on his home turf. In Europe, a baseball cap and sunglasses usually let him get away with murder, so to speak. The future did a number on Steve’s idealism, that much was clear. “Done any decorating yet? Putting your own spin on your space can be satisfying.”

Armed with their drinks, Steve returned to his seat.

“I failed Gym. They had to move me elsewhere to keep me busy.” His body was all the excuse the administration needed to justify the decision. “As it turned out, I had a knack for it. And the girls loved it.” The girls in his class, at least. The rest of ‘em were making eyes at Bucky right down the hall. “What made you take up archery?”

The Avengers compound wasn’t Anna Marie’s first choice of a place to live, but here she was. Prof X, at least in this universe, wasn’t anywhere to be found just yet, dang it. Neither were a lot of her friends, as it turned out, but Anna Marie was happy about that. Lonely, but happy.

But she really missed the mansion.

Stark had designed the compound to be secure, but it wasn’t warm, wasn’t full of life, love and acceptance. Still, she couldn’t really complain. It was a roof over her head, filled with people who wanted to return her to the universe she belonged. It wasn’t built for mutants though, Anna Marie thought, as she walked down the halls. Superheroes, yes, but not people like her, and that was exactly what she was so homesick for.

Eventually, Anna Marie found herself in one of the many living rooms with a bottle of tequila. Normally, she wasn’t much of a drinker, but desperate times… “Ya want some?” Anna Marie asked when she heard someone else approach. “Got two shot glasses here and everything.” / @multiversalhq​

Somehow, Steve was still meeting new people. At times, the multiverse seemed so infinite. Other days, it felt as small as a triple decker on Lausanne Drive.

He never met Anna Marie or Rogue, though. There was a first time for everything.

“I should warn you, I can’t get drunk. Unless you’ve brought some Asgardian mead along.” Steve didn’t mind trying tequila for the taste, however. The Tony of his universe took Steve’s defense against inebriation as an insult and a challenge. Before the mission to Sokovia, the Avengers spent an evening trying to get Steve wasted, to no avail. (Only himself and Natasha were left standing by the end of the night.)

Earth wasn’t exactly a place Carol enjoyed being. It seemed every time she’d been brought here recently it was to help fight some big bad, like Thanos, or try to find answers on where everyone had poofed to. It was really nice having everyone back, having Earth restored. But Carol was quickly learning that once one good thing happened something even more crazy came with it. All these people who didn’t belong here, Carol had spent weeks trying to figure out how it had been possible, but there was only so much research she could do without the help of Tony and his equipment.

So that’s where Carol spent most of her time, researching, calling for help from other planets, worried somehow her assistance was causing more trouble. Not that she was going to stop anytime soon. Though, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t need a break. Looking up at the person sitting in the room with her, she tilted her head to the side. “You’ve been here awhile. Want to take a break? Grab some pizza or something?” @multiversalhq​

This compound wasn’t the one Steve knew. He reminded himself of that often, but somehow it wasn’t sticking. The Avengers were a different breed ‘now’ and ‘here,’ Steve was the alien, and the world was several years ahead of him. 

But this wasn’t Steve’s first time displacement rodeo, luckily.

Sparing a brief thought to wonder where the Carol of his universe was, Steve paused the painful behind-the-scenes special on Rogers: The Musical and glanced up at the sound of her voice. “Pizza would be great. And if you could vaporize my show on our way, I’d really appreciate it.” Who thought a musical about him was a good idea? Steve wanted to wring their neck. “We should go to the Ray’s Pizza on 11th.”

thor swung mjölnir around one wrist as and a bottle of beer in the other he walked through the compound, taking in everything that was different from the last time he was here and noticing a less familiar faces as he walked through. “ i may have lost my mother, my father, my sister, my brother … the woman i love and, at one point, my eye. but i promise, people, the god of thunder has not lost his mind ” he says out loud, to no one in particular, as he struts through, although nothing about his current physique screamed sane. “ anyone up for a friendly game? ” / @multiversalhq​

Crickets, Steve thought, not unsympathetically. At least Thor was still kicking?

“What kind of game?” He questioned, lowering his newspaper. Steve wasn’t very comfortable at the compound, but a familiar face—albeit older than the one he knew—was working wonders. “And please don’t say Monopoly.” That game was hard to play when you disapproved of landlords. “Or were you thinking of sparring?”

Steve was from another universe, Wanda often had to remind herself. He was so much like the Steve that had taken her in and given her something like a family that at times, Wanda could hardly fathom that this was not exactly the man that she knew. But Steve Rogers, regardless of what universe he hailed from, was still one of the kindest and most noble men Wanda had ever come across. She was proud to help Captain America in any capacity that she could.

At the moment, unfortunately, there were no leads on what was happening to the multiverse and how it had began collapsing. Perhaps it started with Westview, she mused, as the instant guilt came crashing over her. “Pancakes?” Wanda repeated, lost in her thoughts. “Yes, yes, I would love pancakes, thank you. Do we have blueberries?” She asked hopefully. “I can make eggs. Do you want help?”

Steve was still adjusting to having a roommate. Grocery shopping needed to be done with a ‘we’ in mind. Fortunately for Wanda, he looked for her stuff first.

“Sure do. I went all the way to Whole Foods to find some. That combo subscription with Amazon helps.” That didn’t stop him from cheering on the company’s demise whenever the press started sloping toward critical instead of complimentary. How that CEO slept at night was a mystery. Maybe Steve should have a talk with him.

“Yeah, I’d love that. The serum gives me a big appetite.” He could suck it up and stick to rationing when he needed to, but Steve needed a lot of calories to be full. “Make ‘em however you want.” Since the scene already felt rather domestic, he flipped a dishrag over his shoulder and asked, “good day at the office, Ricky?”

These days, Clint hadn’t been getting out much. It wasn’t really out of laziness… okay, well, maybe it was. Honestly, he didn’t really know. Somedays, Clint just couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, and others, he felt fine. Regret for what he’d done as Ronin plagued him, and Nat dying, and watching everything that had happened to everyone after the rest got dusted… yeah, things were heavy.

But today wasn’t one of the worst days. He’d gotten up, did target practice at the compound, and now he was walking around the streets with his bow slung over his shoulder. That was one of the perks of being Hawkeye, very few people recognized him.

Except for Cap, Clint thought, as Steve turned the sketchbook towards him. “Yeah, they’re definitely worth at least a couple hundred,” Clint said very seriously. “Like the Mona Lisa or something, but cooler, since it’s done by an Avenger. But I can barely afford rent, so I guess it depends on if you’re a famous Avenger.” Clint would probably pay a hundred for Steve’s art, he was a fan! “Speaking of which, you think I got enough for a latte?” Clint asked, pulling random change from his pockets.

Clint never missed a shot—nor a good compliment, apparently.

“Ha!” Steve couldn’t help himself, although he did appreciate it. “Not much can beat the Mona Lisa.” He preferred Impression, Sunrise and The Kiss but he never quite mastered either style on his own. That was his favorite thing about art, albeit paradoxically. There was always room for one to improve, even if you were famous. 

Now it was Steve’s turn to consider a shot. Offer to help Clint with rent and get rejected or ease into the subject carefully. “You’re not, uh, staying at the compound?” He wasn’t either, but that was different. Clint was from here. Steve was the guy who hopped in a Hudson Super Six and wound up in California accidentally.

Steve set down the sketchbook, grabbed his cup, and then got to his feet. “Actually, I need a refill. Do you mind watching the table for me? I’ll get your latte on my way.”

Pam was taking the time to really get to know the city, the people, the plants and she had to say, New York might be better than Gotham. She’d found herself at a little café a few blocks from the compound, people watching and sipping on the seasonal flavored tea, completely at peace. It was nice to be out without the world being scared of her, hidden amongst the locals. It almost felt like she was just a normal girl. Almost.

A voice broke her from her thoughts, “Hm?” She eyed the man, before looking down at the sketchbook. They were pretty good, and he was pretty cute. She was certain he was a face she’d seen on the walls at the compound, but who knew if her eyes were just playing tricks on her. “Yeah, I think you might have a career in those.” She grinned. “I’d definitely pay for one.”

"Almost did.” Steve resigned himself to being a starving artist or a secretary after he got out of school, but the war changed a lot of lives, his included. “I don’t know how successful I would’ve been, though. I just do pencil sketches.”

“Oh, first one’s on the house.” Steve wasn’t particularly business inclined, nor did he plan to demand money from a stranger. “Trade you a portrait for a little friendly conversation?” It was nice to talk to a civilian, anyway. Much lower stakes to bet on.