Sy

She sighed as she stepped off the small plane.

'Fury called it a quinjet? Doesn't matter.'

Syrinx shrugged to herself as she tried to keep pace with the man in question while looking around the busy carrier deck. Taking a deep breath, the smell of the ocean breeze relaxed her tense body.

She really did not want to be involved in another world ending disaster. And it wasn't even like she did that much in the last couple of wars. She wasn't important to the prophecies. She was a foot soldier. Not much more. She didn't even enjoy fighting. Sure she was good at it, dedication was important to artists. And her mother always expects perfection from her children. It was why she was such a good musician. And a good swordswoman. But at the end of the day, she is a musician, an artist. A muse on Earth.

Syrinx gently lifted up her bag. Inside was her sword, but more importantly her instruments. She was the most powerful child of Calliope since Orpheus. And her half brother had nearly managed to sing his wife back to life. Her music could soothe minds, inspire hatred and enchant the heart. She could control the elements themselves, her music was so persuasive. She tried not to, it was disruptive to use powers that weren't really her own, but sometimes she had no choice.

While she crossed the deck towards the bridge, a familiar face approached. The Black Widow was going to greet a second jet that was touching down behind me.

"Hi Nat." She said quietly. They hadn't spoken to each other since her relationship with Fury had gone south.

"Sy. How have you been?" The response was a little stiff, but that was to be expected. The last time they'd seen each other she had threatened to castrate the director. And she'd broken Clint Barton's nose. Sy shrugged.

"Could be better. Third apocalypse in as many years. College acceptances are starting to come in though, and I have another concert coming up. I think Fury nearly had a coronary when I refused to skip it. You?" Natasha gave Sy a sideways look.

"Classified. Unless you're staying?" Syrinx let out a bitter laugh.

"Yep. Special favor for the director." She said, spreading her arms. The jet touched down behind her. The assassin gave her another curt nod, but before she walked away Sy noticed her eyes had softened. A small smile curled over her face, even as Sy hurried to catch up with the director.

'Progress.'