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03 x mistrust between parties
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PRESENT DAY.
Avengers Compound Clinical Laboratory,
Upstate New York
Etta was once again back at her safe house. A lab was the only place that welcomed her with the chill she deserved. The choreographed reticence and the morgue-like chilliness had resolved her in a skirting pace around the marble flooring. The state-of-the-art machinery whirred in the background; the centrifuge buzzing in its own way. Far ahead was a floor-to-ceiling window, her ultimate escape out. But the expanse beyond was total greenery; even if she made a run for it, the abundance of superheroes in the quadrant would take her down. Hence, she continued to draw out fluids from the agar plates in her pipettes, her eyes wavering across the room in quiet confusion.
There was a little girl in the lab with her. About five years of age, her dark-haired head bowed down to her set of gears and instruments that contrasted with the glass-meddled chamber. Her tiny fingers worked around a screw-driver as she tried to furnish a rod between two spires, screwing it in place. She had a stunning pair of blue eyes, the kind made you do a double-take. The girl worked, transfixed over her project, a miniature engine, and appeared not to regard her surroundings.
In hesitance, Etta cleared her throat softly. The girl glanced up, the flat-plated steel rod falling from between her lips. A warm smile spread across Etta's face when she got the girl's attention.
"Hi," the girl said first, shy and nervous. Her features were overfamiliar to ignore. "Was I being too loud?"
"No, definitely not," Etta was immediate correct, the rubber funnel falling from her hands. She slapped a hand over it before it rolled off and looked back with a sheepish smile. The girl smiled, amused.
"Are you a scientist?" She asked, her voice still withdrawn which the doctor found endearing.
"I am," Etta said, grinning. "I'm Etta. Etta Foster."
"Margo Stark," she replied, mirroring her expression and leaning towards her wholly.
Of course, Etta thought to herself. The daughter of the famed superheroes, Tony and Elle Stark. Margo was a perfect coalition of her parents—taking her mother's blue and father's dark hair. She could imagine her privacy range to be shorter than a snooze, perhaps that's why Tony Stark had locked her up in the Avengers quarters. Regardless of her thoughts, Etta couldn't stop the words from leaving her lips.
