@stoncghost gets a plotted starter!
The after-effects of the final battle between the Avengers and Thanos shook Upstate New York and the surrounding areas for days after its completion. The physical and psychological damage endured by the warriors would take an indefinite amount of time to mend. Lives had been lost--lives that were never intended to be taken. Bruce had lost two of his comrades that day...two of his friends. To stay at the compound was too painful. He did not plan to cut ties with the remaining members of the team, but he couldn’t stay there. Which is why he found himself in the city.Â
Since his encounter with The Ancient One, Bruce had become interested in the sorcery that Stephen Strange practiced. The doctor had welcomed him into his sanctuary as an institution of learning, a space to meditate--an escape. And, if ever he or the Big Guy were needed, they were nothing more than a phone call (or magic portal) away. It was ideal...as ideal as a nonideal situation could be, anyway. He enjoyed learning, it was something normal that he could hold onto, even if the subject matter was anything but.Â
What time he didn’t spend on scholarly pursuits was devoted to bettering his mental health. When the stuffiness of the study became suffocating, he would venture outside, usually losing himself in Central Park. He did his best to not draw attention to himself, tactful in his clothing choices and mannerisms; one of the very few perks of the Hulk gene meant that it was much easier for him to go unnoticed, when he wanted to. Everybody knew the Big Guy--he was difficult to miss. Nobody knew Bruce, not in such a mundane setting--he was nothing more than ordinary.
However, there were some who were not as fortunate, so it seemed.
Even among the greenery, she was eye-catching. Her attempt at a disguise proved futile, even hidden under the baseball cap. He recognized her, though. Gamora. Quill and the guardians had set off in search of her after the fight--if only they’d realized they just needed to travel a few miles south.Â
Quickening his step, he strode over to her, hands in pockets. He stopped a few feet away, not wanting to ambush her completely, and cleared his throat.Â
“Hey, I know that you’re trying to blend in, but the green skin isn’t doing you any favors.”
