#httpnewagestarter

[firstavengvr-blog]

A fresh start. That’s all this was. There was no need to overthink things. A chance to start anew, tie up any remaining loose ends and strengthen the remaining bonds he had to certain individuals. No matter how many times Steve tried to repeat the mantra over and over in his head, it didn’t settle the butterflies swarming within his stomach as he felt the subway lurch at his stop. He’d had his furniture boxed up and sent to his new apartment a couple of days earlier so that he could travel light on the way there. It seemed the most sensible approach.

Adjusting his baseball cap to try and remain as inconspicuous as he possibly could, Steve kept his head down as he followed the street signs directing him towards Elysium. God, it felt hot out today. Or was that just him? Were his nerves really getting the best of him at a time like this? He hoped he’d arrive in one piece at this rate. It wasn’t as if he had any real reason to panic; no one knew he was arriving today. He’d given a false name when giving his address for the delivery of his boxes. He’d deliberately chosen one of the smallest rooms available for comfort. Smaller spaces reminded him of home; of the bedroom he used to fall asleep in every night when he was no taller than 5′5″, coughing his lungs up every night. At least some things had changed. 

Despite hoping his nerves would settle it didn’t take long for Steve to take a detour, stopping off instead at the first coffeehouse he stumbled upon. He wasn’t entirely sure how near ( or far, for that matter ) he was from his so-called fresh start but right now he didn’t particularly care. He needed something to drink. To settle his nerves for good. And naturally, coffee was the best idea. Settling down at a table out front, Steve removed his cap and sunglasses with a tired sigh, running one hand through his hair as he took in the sights. He really did need this, no matter what he told himself. Leaning forwards to blow at his coffee, Steve paused as he felt someone’s gaze burn into him, soon glancing up at the individual in question curiously before a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Sorry-- was this your seat?”

[pageofhellskitchen-blog]

Being a resident of Elysium wasn’t exactly what she had expected to happen when she volunteered to assists the legal team that was working on the accords. In fact, Karen doubted they would even let her help; her legal experience wasn’t exactly in international politics. Instead, the group had decided that, rather than legal skills, they could utilize her “non-threatening nature” (as they had said in one conversation). Better yet, place Karen in as a listening ear, a counselor of sorts, for the residents of Elysium who were actually required to be there. 

And in this position, she was also expected to fulfill a sort of double agent role; reporting back to whatever government or legal agency if she uncovered information that may be useful to them now or in the future. It wasn’t exactly something Karen felt comfortable doing, but she hoped that this would open a door or two for her, to bigger and better things. 

This was what she kept reminding herself as she opened the door to her room and saw how barren and empty it was. Or when she spent most hours alone in the small office they had provided her, waiting for someone, anyone, to pop in and just say a hello. Most of the time was spent on the computer, keeping up with what was going on in Hell’s Kitchen and how this whole Accords situation was affecting the rest of the world. A few of the others had come in, mostly just to check her out, analyze if she was a threat or if she had could be trusted. It seemed like the jury was still out on that one. 

Karen had spent the last few minutes trying to not check the time in the corner of the computer screen, literally counting down the seconds until she could go back to her room for the rest of the evening. The day had been slow, like all the others before. No one had come in, not even a note or a call to schedule anything. She wondered if they would pull her out soon, it wasn’t like she was getting much insider info or tips. Karen sighed and began to shut down the computer, staring at her reflection in the now dark monitor.

She was beginning to gather her things to leave when there was a knock on the door. 

Immediately sitting back down and attempting to quickly tidy up the (few and mostly unused) office supplies on the desk, Karen called out, “Come in!”.

[spiderspitromanoff-blog]

Natasha walked down the dim hallway, combing her fingers through her hair. It was quiet, as everyone was either asleep or in their rooms. It might look like she was headed to the gym, but she couldn't help that yoga pants and a big shirt were easy (and unembarrassing) sleep wear. 

“Did you have a nightmare too?”

[metalarmedbarnes]

“Alright,” Bucky frowned shutting the refrigerator door, “Which one of you ate my plums?” He asked. He had specifically wrote his name on a post it note and stuck it on the package. There were everybody’s plums, and then there were his plums except that now, there were none left in the common kitchen, which meant that he would have to go grocery shopping. He hated grocery shopping. 

[spellboundmaximoff-blog]

Wanda swayed side to side in the dim light of the kitchen area, beer in hand. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,”

[spaceowens]

coffee was not something Aurora was incredibly fond of, she got so used to drinking shitty instant coffee that her body rejected most kinds of coffee. The coffee at Elysium was different though, it smelt and tasted like pure happiness and Aurora already had drank an entire pot.

There was someone else who enjoyed the coffee far more than she did, Clint  Barton. She does recall meeting him once before all this Elysium stuff but they never really interacted. 

She was about to pour herself another cup when she noticed him walking in her direction. She grabbed another mug and filled it. She placed the mug down on the counter besides her and smiled lightly.

“just keeping it warm for you,” she called out picking up the mug and holding it out for him.

[metalarmedbarnes]

Home was a foreign concept to Bucky. The last time he had truly had a home was in…1942? After that, he’d had nothing. He had gone to war, and then he was a prisoner, had gone back to fighting for his country before being captured again. From being a prisoner, to a weapon, frozen an incalculable amount of time, to becoming a fugitive, a SHIELD operative and now… He wasn’t sure what he was. He had free will, technically. But weren’t they forced to live at Elysium?

Bucky looked around his room. He’d had chosen the smallest room he could find, but by Tony Stark’s standards it was fairly bigger than anything he could have expected to live in. He barely had enough clothing to fill a duffel bag, a few pairs of jeans and distressed sweats, pull overs thinned out from wear.

The space was too big and too empty, while furnished with more things he had ever owned in his life. Bucky wasn’t sure how to deal with this, with anything. There had been discussion of him going back in the ice. Of him being a danger, with his instruction manual in the wind. 

The dark haired man decided not to wallow on these thoughts for now. He would have enough time later at night when he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He pulled on his favorite faded red henley shirt over his head, folding the left sleeve in on itself so it wouldn’t fling about as he walked around, but not so much that his stump would be visible. Apparently, it made the others uncomfortable. 

Just as he walked out the door, he heard a set of footsteps approaching in his direction.

[spiderspitromanoff-blog]

“If we’re going to be hanging out here for a while, out of the public eye, should I ditch the red and go blonde? I’ve never had the opportunity to before...”