Atlas | Avatar!OC x Bucky Barnes

3 - Moving Day

Tuesday, May 5th, 5:40 pm

"And here, down the hall is your room. I think you're actually right beside me," Steve concluded with his small tour of the two connected floors Atlas would be living on.

The elevator stopped on both floors, but the lounge, kitchen and training facilities were on the floor below, and everyone's rooms were on top. The two levels were connected by a flight of stairs. Atlas made a mental note of the baby grand piano sitting by the lounge, she'd have to play it later. Leave it to Tony Stark to buy a whole-ass piano just for decoration. Steve grabbed Atlas's luggage they had brought in earlier and carried it to her room for her, and Atlas thanked him. "Any questions?" Steve asked.

"I think Tony said someone else was moving in today as well? I don't know. I was just wondering who," Atlas shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but she was genuinely curious to see who else had moved into the tower.

"Oh, yeah. Bucky. He just arrived this afternoon. His room's right over there," Steve said pointing to a door just a few feet away from hers.

"Okay, great. Thanks so much, Steve. Really. I owe you one for carrying all of this," Atlas said, gesturing to her things, which, in her opinion, were fairly heavy.

"Don't mention it. But if you need anything, Tony's usually in his lab, and I'm just next door, so don't be afraid to visit or something," Steve smiled warmly. Atlas nodded in response again and thanked him once more before closing her door and turning around to see her huge room. She swore this bedroom was bigger than her whole apartment. There was enough space in here to move that piano from outside into this one room.

"Woah," was all she could mumble in a whisper. The room had the most comfortable looking bed and a huge blue couch against the left wall, and the queen-sized bed faced it on the opposite wall. The two walls were separated by panels of floor-to-ceiling windows with the most breathtaking view of the city, the windows only stopping when they reached her bed. It was very plain in decoration, but Atlas would change that with all the posters she had ready to hang up. The airbender slid herself down the door to sit on the floor, she was in absolute shock from the upgrade she had just received. Never had she had a place so nice to live in. She sat there in awe, appreciating the space for at least ten minutes before she got up and started to decorate her new room.

Two hours went by as Atlas spent time hanging up posters and tapestries on the blank walls of her new room. She set up a bunch of supplies on the desk that sat by the door and completed her homework from school that she had for the day.

Atlas finished up by nailing a special glider directly above the couch. The glider she hung was the very first one Atlas had learned to fly on, built for her by her father. The wood used for it was aged and cracked and the canvas that was once bright orange was now slightly faded. Just like her old apartment, Atlas scattered all six of her working gliders across her room; two were by her bed, one by the couch, one by her desk, one hidden on the top of the bookshelf Atlas had yet to fill with novels, and her favourite collapsible glider she always carried on her. Although the Avengers tower was most definitely a safe building - considering the fact that the inside was literally scattered with superheroes - Atlas still took the precautions that she always would in her old apartment by leaving her signature weapon anywhere and everywhere.

The airbender decided to spend the rest of the evening training, and the only thing she concluded from her training was that she was weak compared to where she was just a few months ago. Atlas couldn't remember the last time she spent quality time exploring her powers and trying to get stronger, but the weights she lifted and flips she practiced were now a slight struggle for her. Atlas was training on the large sparring mat that took up the middle of the training facility with her metal staff in some shorts and a training bra. She was practicing an old combination that her grandfather had taught her, one of eighteen that she was required to learn to be considered an airbending master. The patterns of the navy blue airbending master tattoos ran up and down Atlas's spine, only on her back so she was able to hide her true identity. As Atlas went through the combination that had become muscle memory, she felt a presence behind her, a small obstruction in the way of the air she controlled. Atlas stopped after she stuck a perfect corkscrew flip and spun her staff in her hand a few times, pointing it at the man behind her.