A small head was bent over a work desk filled with rather ordinary looking items. A bright spotlight was perfectly adjusted onto the work in front of the small but also seemingly ordinary girl. She was fifteen, her hair was a smoky gray that matched her eyes, and her hair was clipped short for a girl. It was just long enough that on a man it would be considered an overgrown crew cut save for three braids on her left temple, just above the headband strap for convenience, that hung just past her earlobe. These braids were fastened with a colorful array of glass beads. They were also tucked behind her ear while she worked. She was a little pale, not having the time to go outside very often, and wore a wide leather headband that a pair of specially made goggles sat on. Right now these goggles rested firmly over her eyes, though they seemed to be rather like aviator goggles, but this too seemed normal. After all, when you work with small and pointy things, it's common sense to protect your eyes. But as you may have guessed, she was far from ordinary. She crafted special items and sold them over a website called: The Crafter's Shoppe. On the website she went by the name Crafter. Her workmanship was flawless. Every item she made quickly sold, and boy, did she make many. But this wasn't the special thing about her, well, not entirely. What made her special, as well as her crafts, was the abilities they had. Good luck charms actually brought good luck to those who fulfilled certain condition, believing in the charm and owning it for one, as well as other charms for daily life. She also made jewelry with special effects. Basically, she could make an item and give it a power, or "Effect", on the user or environment. She was an independent, given special license to live on her own and be responsible for herself, seeing as how she could provide for herself and she already finished her required schooling. Usually emancipation of a minor isn't so easy, but her parents had died prior to the incident, and it wasn't that difficult to convince the legal authorities that she would be fine on her own. Better than tumbling through foster care, that's for sure.

Who is this strange, independent young woman you ask? Why, that's me. Amanda Jones. I would say something else, maybe along the lines of "my friends call me Mandy", but I really didn't have any friends. I mostly worked at home, and when I did go out the adults either thought I was a runaway, or that I was some immature child. Sure I have my moments, but I have an extra special brand of crazy, what excuse do they have? You wouldn't believe how many times "concerned adults" would call the cops to try and take me home again. I carried the paperwork so they wouldn't have to stay here long. I even offered them a soda and cookies while they read the paperwork to make sure it's legit. After a while the cops would just put hang up the moment my address and name was mentioned. I really couldn't blame them. There are way too many nosey people out there. Anyway, it was a normal Saturday night for me. Or maybe it was Tuesday night? Could be daytime for all I know, but I didn't feel worn out, so I probably haven't been at this for very long. I was currently working on a dream catcher, one that would work every time, and I was making it from scratch. Sure, I could go out and buy one, paint it up, enchant it, and then sell it, but I liked quality in my work. Enchanting, or giving an item an Effect, from scratch, lasts way longer than an last minute addition. It's also easier to stabilize, and therefore, less stress on my mana. I say mana, but I don't necessarily mean it. It's just the closest I could come to naming the energy I use to embed things with powers. I just finished tying on the last feather when someone knocked on my front door. I easily steered around boxes of merchandise to be mailed off as soon as possible- oops!- and made it to the front door. I kicked a few boxes out of the way, assured they weren't fragile by lack of breaking glass, and opened the door only to be greeted by a tall stranger with a status above his head.

Now, let me clear something up here before moving on. My goggles are many things. I made them myself, mostly because I couldn't see that great far away, but also to see other things. I gave the goggles many Effects, these Effects I could turn off and on at my leisure. One of them is, for lack of better explanation: Video Game Visualization. You know how in RPG games people often have words above their heads or health bars and such? That's pretty much what it does. I could even, by audio clue, such as requesting the information, see statistics about items and people. Let's say someone wanted to play a trick on me and gave me a laxative cookie, with this special Effect, I could see the statistics as such:

Level: Inedible

Laxative Cookies

Food… Maybe

When it comes to food and drinks, the level is often shown as a description rather than a number. I guess if it was some advanced robot disguised as a cookie it would have a level, and it would probably look something like this:

Level: 3

Robot Cookies

Not Food

Let's continue on now that that's explained. I opened the door and was greeted by a status of the stranger.

Level: 56

Agent Hawkeye

Clint Barton

Human

Now this was unusual. Usually, people don't have nicknames prominent enough to show up. Or labels that give them special abilities for that matter, both are the same in the view of my goggles. The fact that he was called an agent and was level 56 told me that this was a very special visit. Not one to dance around the subject I waved him in so he could find his own way to the couch. Esh, my place was a total mess. I really need to find somewhere to put these boxes. "Come on in, Agent Hawkeye. What's a level such as yourself doing at a place like this?" I think I need to get out more if that's how I greet a total stranger. His blue eyes widened in shock and confusion. His blond hair was clipped short and he wore a casual purple tee shirt with dark wash jeans and a leather jacket.

"Pardon me, Amanda Jones, but I'm here on behalf of S.H.E.I.L.D., we'd like you to join the Avengers Initiative." oh boy, the man looked like he was wading in the middle of thirty, but surely this is a joke? A notification window popped up, informing me that it was not.

Party Invite:

Avengers.

Will you accept?

Yes or No

"Well, I have no idea what any of that means. Mind explaining a few things?" his eyes seemed to harden at my reluctance. Jeez, what died in his Cheerios?

"It's not something we have time to talk about. SHEILD is aware of your abilities, and so are other interested parties. You either join or I will be forced to take you in myself." I sighed in annoyance before looking him in the eyes.

"Status." I said, irritated that I had to do it this way. It was a little invasive, but it was written with more than a little sass. My goggles had quite the sense of humor.

Name: Clint Barton

Class: Human

Sub-Class: Assassin, Archer

Level: 56

Label/Nickname: Agent Hawkeye, Hawkeye

Health:5000/5000

Mana: 0/0

Exp: 23.5%

Various statistics such as intellect and strength…

Clint Barton works for S.H.E.I.L.D., the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, as an assassin. He favors the bow and arrow with a colorful selection of add-ons that give his arrows special abilities that are decidedly not magical. Knows absolutely no magic and fears it ever since he was compromised by Loki, God of Mischief. He is a part of the Avengers Initiative along with a select group of individuals lead by Director Nick Fury. Enjoys being a weirdo, spying on people in vents, and lived in the circus with his brother-

I dismissed the status after that point. I think I learned enough. Hawkeye looked at me warily before speaking again.

"Have you made a decision?" I snorted at that. Like I had much of a choice.

"First thing though, precisely what is it you think I do?" he seemed to detect the sarcasm in my statement but countered it with an easy smile.

"We know you have the ability to create items with certain… properties." well, that's as close as anyone was going to get I guess. I noticed the strange look he was giving me and paused for a moment. Was there something wrong with my outfit? I mean, sure, they were flannel pajamas that may smell a bit- I sniffed the air and was instantly conscious of how I smelled like I hadn't showered in a while. That happened sometimes. While I'm working it's not often that there's a stopping point.

"Well, like it or not, I'm can't leave just yet. Give me an hour and I should be ready to leave, considering I don't have a choice in the first place." his face scrunched up unpleasantly and I could tell he was about to decline, "I do have work that I need to finish up here. You can sit on the couch and wait a bit. Trust me when I say no one is getting in here. Oh, and don't touch anything. Wouldn't do if you suddenly turned into a bird or something." I said, leaving no room for argument, before turning and leaving the room. I have a lot of work to do. I tapped the side of my goggles, turning off the VGV Effect for the moment. I really didn't need status windows telling me of Hawkeye's impatience popping up in the shower.

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I have just thinking up all the cool things she can create! I know this power of hers is slightly omniscient but it does have limitations, which will be revealed soon, I assure you. If you have any recommendations for upcoming character status windows, like the bio or something, do tell me. Oh, and this will be revealed soon also, but the goggles- nearly an entity of it's own- does not approve of the nicknames Tony gives his teammates. Something along the lines of a technological rivalry of the VGV Effect and Tony's own tech, which I hope amuses you greatly. Any mistakes I make, just correct me and move on like a normal person, and please don't burn down her apartment before she can move out with your flames! That's all!

Keep Calm and OC' On!