So, first chapter of this story. I hope you guys like it, pretty nervous about this. Reviews and suggestions are greatly appreciated!
Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America, but I do own my OC.
I looked in the mirror, checking out my outfit and making sure I had everything I needed for my business meeting. I was wearing a light blue long skirt with a pair of shorts underneath, a matching shoulder-padded blazer, a white dress shirt, and black wedged heels. My messenger bag was slung over my chest, holding my report, a pad of paper, various stationary that I used for designing blueprints, a small tool set, a set of casual clothes, and a spare pair of sneakers. In one hand, I had my cell phone and the other, my car keys.
Today was the day when I would finally get back into business. I looked into my own hazel eyes, building up confidence.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself, "You need this."
I glanced over to the photo at my bedside.
"I'll be back soon, don't miss me for too long OK?" I whispered solemnly.
Once I deemed myself presentable, I left my room and headed out the front door. However, once I took a step forward, my foot hit an object on the porch.
"What the heck is this?" I asked myself as I looked down. Seeing a small package, I picked it up. It was a typical brown cardboard box, no return address nor sender mark, only the postal service's stamp and my name.
I brought it inside, shutting the door behind me. Being a few minutes late wouldn't mean much. I set my cell phone and keys down on the counter. Taking out a box cutter from a nearby drawer, I slit the tape. Next, I carefully opened the box and pushed away the layers of bubble wrap, revealing a smaller metallic box within.
Removing the smaller box, I saw that it was charcoal black with blue lines adorning it in a circular circuit pattern. My eyes traced the lines, but found no function in them. With a small breath of anticipation, I slowly lifted the lid of the box and saw a small metal bracelet inside. I picked it up and closely inspected it.
It had a string of inscriptions engraved onto it, but I couldn't translate them. It was unlike any type of writing I had ever seen, seeming to date back hundreds, maybe even thousands of years ago. I looked back into the box and saw a small piece of paper. I carefully picked it up and read it out loud.
"Place on wrist and run finger along band to activate."
Flipping the note over, I found nothing else written and placed it back inside the box. I stared at the band, curiosity boiling up inside of me. What was this thing? What does the note mean by 'activate'? What do the writings mean? Who sent me this?
I gave into the temptation of curiosity and slipped the band on my right wrist, running my index finger along it. My eyes widened as it began to glow blue. My entire arm felt numb as the light grew in intensity. The light soon engulfed the room in a bright display, forcing me to shield my eyes. A few seconds passed and I suddenly felt weightless. My body was frozen, as if I was wrapped in an energy field. Gravity suddenly kicked back in, and I began to fall at an alarmingly fast rate. Once I regained control of my limbs, I braced myself for an impact. To my 'luck', I found myself crashing into a metal bin of some sort and landing in a pile of trash bags.
"That is the last time I play around with random packages," I muttered to myself, hissing in pain as I attempted to stand up. I inspected my arms and legs and found a multitude of new bruises starting to form.
I groaned in annoyance and took a look at my surroundings. I was in an alleyway somewhere, most likely a big city by the smell of gasoline and wet asphalt in the air. I scowled in disgust as I ran my fingers through my medium length black hair, finding a bit of trash stuck in it.
Suddenly, I heard a crash from around the corner. I slowly crept to the edge and peered around. I frowned at what I saw. A man, around the same height as I was, was getting beat up by a very smug-looking bully. The man getting beaten had (or what seemed to have been) clean cut blonde hair, and looked to be very thin. The bully shoved him into the wall, making him crash into a pile of trash cans. The smaller man picked up fallen trashcan lid, holding it up as a shield. The other just pulled it away from him and gave a sharp punch in the face, sending him tumbling to the ground again.
"Hey!" I yelled, stepping out from behind the corner, fists clenched in anger.
"Who the hell are you? You a friend of this punk?" He gave another shove to the man. "Heh, having women fight your battles now Rogers?" mocked the bully, a Brooklyn accent in his voice.
"And what's the problem with that? I bet I could send you flying into next week." I taunted.
"You better watch your mouth," he said menacingly, slowly walking towards me.
"Hey! Pick on someone your own size," said a new voice. Another man wearing a uniform came from behind and pulled the guy back, dodged a punch, and gave a right hook of his own. The fist made contact with the bully's jaw, a satisfying grunt of pain escaping his lips. As the thug stumbled around, the new guy kicked him in the ass onto the street.
"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," he said to the blonde man once the bully was gone for good. He looked up and noticed me, quickly putting on a charming smile.
"Why hello there, what's a fine girl like you doing in an alleyway like this?" he said.
I thought fast, weaving a convincing lie. "Just... dropping in I could say. Kind of got lost traveling and unfortunately had my luggage stolen. I only have my bag left."
"Well that's a shame. So I'm guessing you don't have a place to stay?" he asked, a mischievous smile on his face. "The name's James Barnes but people call me Bucky. This here is my buddy Steve Rogers."
"Um, April Robinson," I said, shaking hands with both of them. I glanced down for a moment, and caught sight of a small piece of paper on the floor. I stooped down to pick it up.
"I think this is yours," I said, about to hand it to Steve. Instead, Bucky snatched it away and looked at it.
"Steve, come on man," he said, then faintly whispered, "Again? And seriously, Jersey?"
Steve didn't answer, but rather eyed Bucky's uniform and asked, "You get your orders?"
"The 107th Sergeant James Barnes shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."
"Shipping out? There's a war going on?" I thought, but kept quiet. "Observation is key, evaluate the situation before coming to assumptions April."
I spotted a newspaper under Bucky's arm. "May I see that?" I asked, pointing to it. He handed it to me and my eyes widened at the front page.
"World Exposition of Tomorrow, Stark Industries. 1943." It read in big bold letters. I gripped the paper slightly tighter, swallowing hard.
"When did you get this paper?" I asked, trying to seem casual.
"Just this morning. Why?"
"1943? Have I time travelled around 70 years back in time? How is this possible?" I thought in a panic, "Oh god... World War Two."
"No reason," I lied, carefully maintaining my composure despite my racing thoughts.
Now that I knew I was clearly not in my time, I went through a list of slang that I remembered from watching old movies and books. If I was to stay here for the rest of my life, I had to blend in.
"Did you want to go to the Stark Expo? 'cause me and Steve here were gonna go tonight." Bucky nudged Steve in the ribs.
"W-would you care to join us?" Steve said, a tint of red on his face.
I gave a sincere smile, "That'd be swell."