𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{6²} {TONY STARK 3.0 - M.I.A}

∆ {6²} {TONY STARK 3.0 - M.I.A} ∆

"WHO WANTS TO know?" Roxi was the first to speak, because she did not have the energy for this. The pain in her chest was pulsing slowly with the rise and fall it took, and a familiar piercing ache was beginning to bounce around the inside of her skull. Her voice came out unintentionally sharply, likely mimicking the pain itself and the way the waves were beginning to crest beneath the trapdoor.

"Where is he?" The blonde woman insisted, barely sparing Roxi a glance. She wore an odd armour, made of a material that looked slightly concerningly like leather, with areas made out of a gold metal that felt alien - it was what had let her know that the woman was there. If things started to get too out of hand, Roxi could deal with it easily.

She knew that, beside her, Natasha would've already assessed this new person as best as possible, and relied entirely on the woman's opinion, but a glance her way revealed nothing of what she thought. She found her fingers itching for the comfort of her keyring, longing to glance at Wanda who should've been in the corner of the room, ready to send her a soft smile that Roxi would return as privately as possible. A promise that they'd be alright; that they'd try and count the stars again sometime, that they would always come back for each other. Instead, she held her icy eyes on the stranger, and the way that the metal she wore seemed to hum with an unnervingly familiar level of power. It reminded her of the armour that Thanos had worn, and for that reason, she remained cold, alert, unafraid to take action if she needed to.

"Gone." Steve's voice was soft in the silence, with a concerned glance towards where Natasha and Roxi stood, remembering how the former had reacted all those years ago when the director of SHIELD had faked his own death. It was the only time he'd seen her like that. At least, until recently, when a similar cloud had started to hang over her head.

Roxi hadn't actually been told for certain that Fury, and likely Hill had vanished like half the world had, but she had assumed the worst. Natasha had mentioned nothing of them, and neither of them had come to the compound as they normally would after an event like this one. Especially because Maria technically worked for Tony nowadays.

"Gone where? He sent the signal six days ago." The woman glanced around the room, properly taking them in this time, rather than keeping her eyes fixed on the pager. She noted the way that the two women at the front, close together and how they both wore masks of stone and how calculating their eyes were. She saw how all of them had moved into a group as soon as the two women had turned around. These were people who were used to being together - or working together, at the very least.

"Yeah, well, six days ago, a lot happened if you didn't notice." That was Rhodey, and Roxi felt an urge to correct the man. This woman was evidently not from Earth, or had not been here in a long time. Though, she supposed it was her powers that told her that.

"I noticed something. Why the hell is it so quiet? Is it to do with that energy surge?" The stranger knew exactly what she was talking about. Roxi could tell by the way she didn't hesitate in her speech, how her natural self-assuredness was being nagged at by fear. She had recognised it almost immediately, but that was because Natasha acted like that, and even if she looked in a mirror, she would find it settled on her own frame like an extra layer of clothing.

Everyone else in the room exchanged a silent look, all deciding who it should be to say something, to explain what had happened less than a week ago. None of them really understood it, Roxi could feel it. At the very least, she hoped for it, because she didn't want her grip on understanding to slip. She'd done remarkably well at it over these years, but somehow, her brain still felt like the lag from those few seconds where the world had gone backwards in every sense of the world was affecting the way it worked; her ability to grasp the actual reality of what had happened.