AN: Hi. So, this is my first Avengers fanfic, which makes sense seeing as the movie just came out. It's kind of a summer project for myself, to work on creating my own plotlines and characters, so beware of the dreaded OCs. It's kinda heavy on it at the moment, because the main one needs to be introduced, but I promise that the other, canon characters will get plenty of attention as well. (Especially Bruce and Thor, because I love Bruce and writing Thor is the most fun thing ever.)
I'm a bit nervous, because so far I've just done stuff for Glee and, well, it's hard to come down on Glee fanfiction because the show's writing is terrible to begin with. The Avengers though...pure cinematic brilliance. So, it's nerve-wracking. Please be politely critical if you review.
It's not that Clint Barton liked being mentally controlled; it just tended to happen to him. All the time. More than everyone else combined. It doesn't even make sense, because surely it would be easier to worm into Steve's mind, since he's so damn soft, or Tony's since he's so inebriated all the time, or maybe Bruce's, since he's already got someone in there he can barely keep out.
That was harsh. He recognizes it, but he doesn't feel bad about it. It's not like Banner could hear him.
She, on the other hand, very well might have, if the way she was looking at the scientist was any indication. Curiosity, Clint decides, is almost as dangerous a look on her as anger was.
And her anger was frightening, even to him.
Tony had built the holding cell she was in himself, boasting about how it was 'twenty times more effective then the crap S.H.E.I.L.D had come up with, and not designed for attempted murder.' Clint hopes he's right, because he really doesn't want to find himself in a lab with Bruce and Tony reading his brainwaves. Again. At least this time it had been for a purpose. (Last time they'd wanted to compare a non-genius brain to Thor's, and apparently Steve was below Tony's standards and Natasha scared them.)
Why doesn't he scare people? He's a damn assassin too.
Fury interrupts his thoughts, storming into the room as he's inclined to do. He barely looks at them, walking straight up to the glass of the cell and staring in. The girl (and she really is just a girl) raises an eyebrow at him.
"Hi."
Fury cocks an eyebrow of his own. (His only visible eyebrow, but the feeling behind it's still there.)
"I thought you said she wouldn't be able to see out?" Steve asks, looking at Tony. The other man shrugs.
"She shouldn't be," he says simply. "But she also shouldn't be radiating unknown matter, so…"
Fury looks over, finally removing his stare from the girl who was determined to stare back.
"Unknown matter? What kind of unknown matter?"
"Well if we knew, it wouldn't be unknown," Tony snaps back. "It can't be from earth or space in this dimension."
"Why not?" Steve asks, and Tony just gives him the look.
"Because otherwise we would know what it is," Bruce mumbles, without attempting to look up from whatever files he's mulling over. He's always doing that, that mulling thing. Natasha just shrugs, looking over to the girl in the container.
"Why don't you ask her?"
Tony mockingly brigtens, clapping his hands and pointing at Natasha.
"Brilliant idea. I'm sure she'll be completely thrilled to tell us how she works. Hey! Maybe she'll do a self-autopsy!"
"I can hear you, you know," the girl announces. Everyone turns to her, and she looks at Fury with little attempt to hide her annoyance. "And she's right, you could just ask."
"You'll talk?" Steve asks.
"Sure," she says. "If I don't have to talk to him." She points to Stark, and Clint can hear Natasha snort in amusement. Yeah, 'Tash, he thinks, she's hilarious.
Fury smirks a little.
"That can be arranged."
The room they put her in is cold, sterile, and resembles a clinic too much for her to be comfortable. She thinks about making it warmer, but that might set them off. Everyone's powerful here, she can feel it buzzing around her, the power.
There's also a fair amount of despair and turmoil, but that's prevalent no matter where she goes. She never can tell if it's the people around her or herself. From what she'd gathered from Robin Hood, it's a fair enough bet that it's both.
The door remains closed for quite a while, and she can't tell if they're trying to intimidate her so that she'll speak out of desperation, or if they're trying to decide who has to talk to her and the best interrogation method.
Whatever it is, it's causing a bit of hostility.
Finally, the pretty red-head and the one Stark likes come in. The woman walks over and sits beside her calmly. The guy stands to the side awkwardly, fiddling with his glasses. The man's significantly interesting, but she's not sure why. Something about the way his level of energy and emotions don't match the way he holds himself. He ducks his head when he sees her looking at him. No, no he doesn't match up at all.
"So, can you tell us who you are," the woman starts off, voice soft. She doesn't match her aura either, but it's intentional.
"Well, up until two months ago, I was Kinley Jenkins, which is the most ridiculous name ever and probably chosen just to amuse my father, who happens to be Satan, but I didn't know that until recently, you see." She doesn't pause, because she's spent her time in the glass cylinder from before and in here preparing this to be as point-blank and sarcastic as possible, so it can go by quickly. "I was sent to your world seventeen years ago as a reincarnation of who I was for the past few thousand years. I've always had the ability to manipulate and read people, but I didn't know it was a mystical, supernaturally thing until my seventeenth birthday, which wasn't pleasant. Ever since then, I've been gaining some fun little tricks." She looks up at them. "And I'm a Gemini."
The man looks a bit surprised.
"You were right," he says, glancing at the redhead. "That really wasn't hard."
The woman doesn't remove her eyes from her face though.
"How'd you come across Barton?" she asks.
"He shot arrows at me." The woman narrows her eyes, but the door opens before she can say anything else. The guy in the trench coat barges in, with Tony Stark close behind. Fury, she thinks he's called, tries to close the door, but Stark just says some passcode and it refuses to budge. Nobody bothers to put more effort into keeping him out.
Fury (and if that isn't his name, it sould be) looks at her.
"Barton informs me that he was shooting at you because you were destroying a town."
"Not a big one," she mumbles. "And it wasn't on purpose."
"Was taking control of the Hawk's brain also an accident?"
She smirks a bit at that. He'd been full of entertaining secrets.
"No. Well, yes, but I didn't bother to let him go later. He was more pleasant under my control."
"I'll bet," Tony mutters, and she doesn't have to read the room full of emotions to get that everyone was annoyed with him, some significantly more than others.
"You said you have some tricks?" Fury asks, moving his eye back to her.
"Some."
"You mind telling us what they are?"
She thinks about it. On one hand, it won't hurt anything, probably. On the other, they might try to run tests. The last person who did that didn't make it, but she probably can't deny these people anyway. Hopefully Stark runs the lab.
"Typical Satan-y things," she shrugs. "Mostly dark magic stuff, only without having to chant and make sacrifices like people do on tv. Sometimes I'm more powerful than others, depends on the moon or something."
"Could you give some examples?" Fury asks, voice tight. He's annoyed, which is annoying in itself, because he should develop some damn patience.
"Well, mind control, obviously," she says through gritted teeth. "I can make fire, and feel energy and emotions, and can control both of them, sometimes well and sometimes with disastrous results. I do other stuff sometimes, but I'm not entirely sure how, so it's not important."
There's really more, but she'd rather not get into that.
Fury looks at her, nodding a bit.
"And you're aware that you killed forty-three people if we add the casualties from the town in Tennessee and your capture by SHEILD?"
She hides her wince as much as she can. The woman notices, but then again she notices everything.
"I am now," she bites the inside of her cheek. That hadn't sounded as strong as she'd have hoped. Rectify it. "Sorry, if they were your friends." She looks back up at the man with the eye patch. "Assuming you have friends in this business. Seems a little hostile."
She can feel Stark's amusement, but it doesn't do much to encourage. The room is quiet for a minute, uncertainty buzzing around the room.
She hates uncertainty. It's worse than anger or fear. It's nothing but a horrible combination of the both of them, but not enough of either for you to know how to handle.
"I assure you, a business like this requires friends. You'll figure that out soon enough."
Cryptic riddles. Always amusing until someone else decides to employ them.
"And by that, you're suggesting what, exactly?" she asks, and her tone isn't meant to be pleasant, but it startles even her a bit, the rough snarl that comes out. God, not here, not ever again.
Fury doesn't answer, instead turning to Banner as he gives orders.
"Figure out what makes her so…" he glances back at her, "abnormal."
She clenches her hands into fists, feeling her nails dig into her palm as they get ever so slightly sharper. She blinks, turning slightly so that nobody gets a good look at her eyes. Hopefully they'll think she's crying or something. She's not, but it would be better.
It's fine. She's fine, once Fury leaves the room and the redheaded woman pulls Stark out. She looks up at Banner with a small smile.
"So, can we rule out needles?"
AN: I know that was a lot of OC. It's going to have more of everyone else once she gets to know them, I promise. Besides, this is me practicing my OC writing skills, so I should focus on her a bit, I suppose. Everything will pick up though, once we get to know this OC a bit better (next chapter) and get the whole team together (either next chapter or the one after.), so please don't rule it out too fast.
Anyway, reviews would be nice. Not to bug you or anything, just….throwing it out there.