Memories || MCU ²

𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 | 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

– DARK FEATHERS DRAGGED ACROSS THE FLOOR IN THE NIGHT. It was black marble, embedded with coursing rivers of gold dust, as slender as the tail of a dragonfly. Just ahead of where her great, sweeping wings trailed, Kallian's bare feet padded lightly across her bedroom floor, ascending the small flight of steps to her balcony, where she might find some peace. A cool breeze rustled about, grounding her mind and washing away her nerves, if only for a brief moment. A light gown of fog-grey silk flowed about her, wrapping over only one of her shoulders. A blanket of pitch black had thrown itself over the sky, decorated with glimmering swathes of stars and galaxies far away. A simple brush ran through her hair before she took a seat on her cushioned bench, slowly weaving the soft locks into a braid. 

Despite all those worlds, all of those possibilities she could see right here, all of these riches, this lush haven of a life... she would give it all up in an instant to return to the only place that truly mattered to her. And yet somewhere deep down, she knew that Midgard alone could not heal this gaping wound inside of her. What she sought was not quite so simple, nor material as a place. It was a soul -- the soul. The one that fit next to hers like a pristine-cut puzzle piece, making her feel as though she were real once again. Like she was more than just a marionette, going through the motions as her strings were pulled by responsibility, routine, expectation. His soul.

She did not know, nor care how much time had passed while she sat there before rising to her feet once more and returning to her bed. She dropped to it's surface, pillows caving beneath her as her wings settled over her like warm blankets. Weariness pulled on her eyelids, urging them to close, and Kallian did not have the strength to resist any longer. Whatever awaited her beneath the surface, she had no choice but to face it. She could only go for so long -- a week, perhaps -- without sleep before it became a requirement for her well-being once more. 

"Schmidt's dead!"

"Give me your coordinates. I'll find you a safe landing site."

"There's not enough time. I gotta put her in the water."

"Steve, don't do it. We have time."

"This is my choice. But you'll still have time to make yours. Kallie?"

"I'm here."

"I guess I'll need a rain check on that dance, huh?"

"A week next Saturday. At the Stork Club. 8:00."

"You got it. But I, ah, I still don't know how to dance."

"I'll teach you. Just be there and don't you dare be late."

"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your-" 

"Steve?"  A million times over she'd seen it. She knew what would come next, but her heart still flooded with confusion and hurt and dread. The feelings built up so high she thought her body could withstand it no longer, and then the green flash hit. It seared into her eyes, sending hot tears down her face. It burned her nose and her lungs and her skin like toxic gas.

When it was finally over, she found herself  on an empty dance floor that she recognised all too well. It was the last place on earth she'd ever visited. The Stork Club. She only had a moment to remember it's beauty, to wonder at the memories it brought back before the doors all slammed open. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of rushing wind, or perhaps water... and then the first of the flood came crawling through; shallow rivers of red that ran fast enough for the floor to be covered in less than a minute. Then the real waves hit; torrents of blood that swept her up like the sea, no matter how she beat her wings to escape. Kallian cried out as the smell of iron hit her hard, the liquid rising higher and higher. The walls began to groan with the strain but she knew they would never give before the room was filled, and she was drowned. Soon enough, she was forced below the surface, unable to see or speak or even to think. Her lungs burned and when she did finally gasp, her lungs filled with the dark, unholy liquid-