"I need to tell you something," Sassa hissed thru her teeth as she grabbed Nat, her arm looping through the other girl's elbow and tugging her away from the direction she had been heading, the incident in the house of mirrors still pounding through her mind - swirling together with everything else that had gone down the past few months. The text after she spoke to the cops, Link and Charlie, the valentine... At this point, she had to talk to someone about it, and Nat was one of the few people Sassa would maybe trust in the smallest amount - just enough to share some details of what had been happening. "Some weird shit has been happening," she said once they were far enough away from anyone else to not be overheard, her eyes wide.

Hearing a knock rapping at the door of their room in the chalet, Coco bounded over to see who was there. He wasn't expecting anyone, but....it was a resort full of all his friends, so he figured whoever was on the other side was someone he'd want to see. And he was right about that, swinging the door open to see Nat. He immediately beamed, hands grabbing the top of his door jamb as he leaned against the frame, eyes on hers. "Hey buddy," he said, grinning. "What are you up to?"

Nat had come over, presumably to ‘do homework’, though both girls knew that was absolutely not what they were going to be getting into, as it typically went with them. It may depend on what else was going on, but it was a sure bet that they’d be distracted by something. They were both on the couch in Sassa’s dorm, textbooks in front of them, sure, but little focus being paid to them past the first ten or fifteen minutes of their supposed study session. Nat had let out several loud sighs, Sassa finally giving up and nudging the other girl with her toe. “What’s going on?” she asked, one eyebrow raised up. “With those heavy sighs you’re practically begging to get something off your chest,” she mused. 

Sassa was sitting with Nat in one of the windows of the coffee shop, the two having claimed the best spot - not only a table, but two comfy armchairs, and prime people watching. Absentmindedly sipping from the coffee in front of her, Sassa watched the various people going to and fro in front of the window, her work forgotten on the table in front of her, until one of the officers who was back - because of Greer - wandered by the window. She frowned, turning back towards Nat. “Have you heard anything?” she asked, her head tilting to one side. “About why they’re back?” she added, chin motioning towards the retreating cop. 

theresia had returned to  new haven with newfound inner strength after her sudden and unplanned trip  back home.  yes, she was still somewhat shaken about what she had seen, mere hours before she had packed her suitcase and had fled the country, but --- she was getting better. she was  alright  again. alright enough to make dinner plans with a friend. she was keeping it together.

Bobby had been a member of a secretive underground superhero group since he was a preteen, but there was something exhilarating about looking at government files that had been stamped classified in an unmarked black van. It was so official, like he was at the centerpiece of a spy thriller. Though his usual uniform wasn't as classy as a tux. Bobby supposed Bond wouldn't have the same charm in Speedos, but at least he could do a mean Sean Connery impression. He stopped himself short, imagining his present company wouldn't appreciate it much. Government suits were usually a serious bunch and he imagined the spooks at SHIELD weren't much different. The red head seated across from him was particularly intimidating. Her codename didn't inspire much confidence in him either. Bobby never did have much luck with women. He was fortunate enough that none of them had ever tried to kill him. He wasn't about to toy with fate by flirting with someone known as the Black Widow, even if Steve could vouch for her.

"The Vanisher also goes by Telford Porter, obviously an alias," a grey-haired SHIELD operative remarked as Bobby flipped through a folder of typed reports and surveillance stills. Bobby would recognize that ugly shaved head from anywhere. "We have a number of aliases on file, but we have no record of his real name. Professor Xavier advised that you have experience dealing with him."

"The original squad had our fair share of run-ins with Mr. Clean here," Bobby said, pointing to a blurry close-up shot. "Which is—to be clear—not one of his aliases, but he's definitely stole the guy's look. He just needs an earring and a toilet bowl cleaner."  

"Mr. Drake, if you could refrain from antics, it would be appreciated," another operative said. "Your experience is valued, but if we need a crass attempt at humor, we'll call Stark."

"Romanov, do you have any questions for the mutant before I continue?" the first agent asked.