Prismatic ⇒ Avengers [ 2 ]

Thunder and Lightning

"I think we all know why we're here."

I look around the room with my hands clasped in front of me, looking at the others, who are assembled around me in various states of tension. Lee, his wings spread above him like some kind of stone angel, is on the precarious ledge of the windowsill, his hand clasped in Killian's, who's sat on the floor, water rippling through his fingers like some kind of fluid ribbon. They look relaxed, though I can see the tension in their fingers- but they still make a stark contrast to Jo, and more significantly, Freya.

Little Freya.

She's sat with her back to the wall, watching the room with serious, dark eyes that seem an eon older than her fragile body, and though she looks like she's going to either kill someone or scream at any given moment, I'm considering this an improvement, mainly because she's finally ventured outside of her greenhouse.

She first crept out, apparently, during the hearing six months ago. Clint and Sam only realised she was in the room when they found their arms and legs being tied down by toxic vines.

Jo is crouched on my sideboard, equally tense, and I can see the glimmer of metal up her sleeves- knives, ready to be unleashed at any time. Of all of us, she looks the most deadly- even with Lee's wings, and my currently instability, which has been a trending topic around the world for coming up to five months now- her eyes carry the sort of darkness that Natasha's hold.

"The disc, right?" Lee asks, his feathers rustling against each other in a pale violet mist. "The carving."
"JARVIS, remind us of what you've translated?" I ask, glancing at the ceiling. A blue light, like a laser, shines down in a thin column, that expands into a three-dimensional holographic image of the carving that seven people paid their life for.
"The disc appears to be some kind of map to an Incan city," JARVIS begins in his usual calm, sand coloured voice, "though the translation may not be completely accurate, for the language is not like anything found on earth before."
"How is that possible? Surely someone's worked out Incan." Killian says suspiciously. The water around his fingers trembles, and turns into an orb- as if it's floating in outer space.

"The language is indeed some variation of Incan," JARVIS says, sounding a trifle impatient, "but there has never been any other example found of this particular dialect. Most likely it belonged to a tribe or group that separated itself off from the rest of the population."
"How would something like that happen?" Jo asks, her voice fluctuating with lack of use. "How would they become isolated?"
"There are hundreds of possibilities," JARVIS says, before I can begin to suggest something, "for example, an ancient tribe in Tibet was separated from the rest of the world after an earthquake in the region several thousand years ago. When their remains were unearthed, their records were in a language never seen before. Alternately-"

"Thank you, JARVIS," I cut off, before he can go through every single one of the 'hundreds of possibilities', "so, it's a map. Presumably, the Alkaevs are attempting to find this city." Jake's face flashes into my mind, and I repress a shudder, glancing over my shoulder at the door.
"Well, if they want to reenact Tomb Raider, good luck to them," Killian drawls. Of all of us, his accent has probably faded the most, possibly due to the amount of American television he watches, "because surely the only thing that's there is, like, treasure, right?"
"I do not think they would waste their time for something like money," Jo says, narrowing her eyes. Her hair, which used to almost reach her waist, is now shorter, just past her chin, and sleek, now that she's taking regular showers, and she almost looks like anyone else, "we all know what sorts of things they are involved in."

I have sudden visions of blue light and screaming people, and press my fingers to my eyes.

"Is that a guess or a prediction, miss mystic?" Lee calls across the room. Jo bristles.
"They still have the sceptre." She hisses, turning like a startled cat. "With that sort of power, what use is money?"