THE ELEVENTH ETERNAL - known as Delphi - was one of the Eternal's thinkers; like Sprite, Druig, Ajak, Sersi and Phastos. The Eternals were her family.
All but Druig - to Delphi, he felt like more than just family, he felt like home, a safe place.
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USA — 1943
A DEADLY, BARBARIC warwas being waged in Europe, Delphi's previous home for many decades, centuries even. It would be over in two years, she knew that for certain, but until then she decided on visiting America and a few other counties which lacked the brutal fighting of the Second World War. A place she had never been in her centuries-long life.
Before she had boarded a flight in order to across the often glacial Atlantic Ocean — in 1939 — Delphi had been living in Southern France. A beautiful, content place that contrasted New York so very much, like glassy water and raging fire. Even prior to the beginning of the War, Delphi had plans to leave the sleepy coastal town, fearing someone would grow suspicious at her abnormal inability to age. Her delicate features were unchanging despite the marching of time. In spite of the fact she cannot age, it is quite impossible, her eyes — pale in colour and deep in wisdom — showed her ancientness. Only those who looked diligently enough would be able to see her age-old knowledge and historical experiences.
New York — the city that never sleeps — had unequivocally lived up to its infamous reputation. Something was always happening: whether it be the crack of dawn, the middle of a weekday or the darkest night New York never failed to outdo itself. People came and went. No one was ever fully the same after their time in New York City; be it long or short, lifetimes or minutes.
The short brunette walked purposefully through the bustling streets of Brooklyn; a glint in her fair blue eyes, which scanned the aged faces of those around her. She was searching for someone, a man by the name of Steven. Some time ago the Seer had received a premonition of this man and his important future. Steve, a brutally fragile man with a heart ten times his size, was destined to become the World's First Super Soldier. The famed Captain America.
Adorning her slight frame was a deep blue with small white polka dots, short-sleeved shirtwaist dress that reached just above her stocking-covered knees. The style of the 1940s was far less restricting than she had been accustomed to. Her light brown hair was out of her soft face in tight victory rolls.
As Delphi walked, the plain, black heeled pumps she wore clicked like a clock on the dull pavement. A large sign hung above the entrance of the red-brick building she was heading for, it was a cinema. A rather unimportant place, only those in the local area of Brooklyn frequented it, yet nothing could stop Delphi's determined stride. Her little legs not stopping her. As she approached, gaze never fixated on one individual for long, her eyes caught onto a disturbance in the abandoned alley beside the picture house. It was Steven Grant Rogers and — as he often was — Steve was in a fight with someone much larger and stronger than he.
