#kitty 1

The sound of high heels clicking against marble floors echo’d through the halls of Wimbourne House as Rosalind made her way through. Her head was held high. Everything about being there felt so right, so normal, which is what made it more so feel so wrong. Rosalind questioned why she’d agreed to go there in the first place. There were so many other places she could have met with Esmeralda. Places that wouldn’t make her heart ache for what should’ve been -- what could be, if she weren’t so prideful. Once she found the other witch she would suggest tea elsewhere, but until then -- Rosalind paused, plastering an expression that was made for these moments as she came face to face with Kitty Greengrass.

“Kitty.”

“Oh, so we’re using that word now, are we?” Raven asked stepping up beside the younger girl. She stared ahead at the protesters glaring at them. “Something tells me that’s not what their problem is,” she said, smiling wickedly. “But it’s so good to hear you accept yourself, Kitty-cat.” 

“I remember when I’d get so excited for New Year’s…”

“You don’t anymore?” Clint asked. The new aids from Stark were incredible. Intuitive, automatically adjusting the background level of noise to let him focus on the girl beside him. He tilted his head, and set his drink aside. He’d probably had enough champagne by now. “I still do,” he admitted. “I mean... all the futz about a clean slate, starting over, that’s all crap,” he said, shrugging and flashing her a crooked smile. “But I still like the sound of it, ya know?”

Genosha was coming along quickly. Mutant abilities combined with the simple joy of having a home meant everyone was pitching in to build up the island. Wanda couldn’t help but be amazed each and every time she walked through the streets. There was already so much life here. 

She was just walking through, feeling it all, taking everything in, when she saw trouble. A young girl trying to lift something that looked heavy. Wanda held out her hand, fingertips glowing red, and the same red glow appeared around the equipment. Lifting it up just before it could topple over onto the girl. “Looked like you could use a hand,” Wanda called out. “Where should I set this down?”

This could work. That’s what Carol kept telling herself. She had her team, she would fight with the Avengers, lead the Second Chance, and even if accountability and honesty didn’t look the same way she had pictured it — it could totally work. Besides, this gave her a little more time to relax too. And there was only one way Carol Danvers relaxed. 

With shots, baby!

She was stumbling drunk by the time she opened the door of the bar. Too drunk to fly, but that was fine. It was a beautiful night. She would walk back to the Tower, pour a few more with Tony if he was up to it, and —

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sight of a girl. She was close, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Carol tried to veer away from her, but her limbs were a little too heavy and she wound up swaying in the wrong direction. She closed her eyes bracing herself for the impact.

But it never came. Instead, she felt something totally wild. It wasn’t like slamming into those ships, it felt more like blitzing through the tail of a comet. Cold and buzzing and tingly in the center of her chest. Carol stopped, swaying on her feet, and slowly turned around. The girl was standing there, directly behind her. “Okay,” she said, holding up a hand and blinking. “That was weird for me. How was it for you?”