FOSTER CHILD | ACT ONE
scene seven : pym residenceISLA's ACHING BODY wasn't the only thing confusing her when she woke up the following day in an unfamiliar room. She frantically sat upright in the bed, the room spinning as a splitting headache racked around her brain. She scanned the room, memories from earlier that morning rushing back to her.
She was kidnapped, that was obvious as the headache and aching body were effects of using chloroform. Not to mention the bruises that were slowly beginning to form around her neck, something she had only noticed from the mirror that sat directly in front of her across the room.
Assuming that she had the permission to roam freely and wanting to get a better look at herself in the mirror by, Isla groaned as she swung her legs around, moving out of the bed with caution, trying her best not to intensify the pain she was feeling.
Isla wasn't a squeamish person. She'd been accidentally placed in an all boy's home before and the things she saw in there were definitely so much worse than ants freely running around the place. However, she struggled to hold the bile, that was threatening to spill as she watched what seemed to be millions of ants scour around, going about their business like they were in a shopping mall.
She retched loudly, quickly retracting her feet from the floor and back onto the bed to it was safe. Once her attack came to a halt and when she gathered enough courage, she quickly hopped out of the bed, beelining towards the door, apologising to the ants as she was so sure she stood on quite a few.
She slowly placed her foot on the floor and much to her surprise, the ants quickly dispersed, making room for her foot. Feeling unenviably stupid, Isla scoffed, walking out of the room with ease as she made her way downstairs.
Her ears perked up as she heard hushed voices talking in a room nearby. She recognised one of the voices as the woman who kidnapped her last night, she couldn't put her finger on the more frail voice but she was sure she had heard it somewhere before.
"Job?"
The occupants in the room turned to look at the door. Scott was the only person in the room to be shocked by her presence, the other two were non-challant.
"Would you like some tea?" Hank asked Scott, looking at Isla so she knew she was included in the conversation.
"Uh, sure," Scott said, snapping out of his daze. God did she look like Gianna, He thought to himself.
"Water will do." Isla stood in her spot, not feeling comfortable enough to take a seat.
"Course." Hank turned to look at the woman, "Hope if you don't mind."
Isla's jaw dropped, shocked. When Isla asked her kidnapper who she was and she responded with, "Hope," she thought that her kidnapper meant that she was her only hope, not that her name was Hope. She felt stupid and sat down beside Hope, a form of a silent apology.
Hank poured Scott a cup of tea, readjusting himself in his seat. "I was very impressed with how you managed to get past my security system. Freezing that metal was particularly clever."
Isla looked at her father, rather impressed. Her mother had always displayed her father as a nut job who probably couldn't even tie his shoelaces with the help of four extra hands.
"Were you watching me?" Scott asked, ignoring the looks from his 'supposed' daughter,
"Scott, I've been watching you for a while," He picked up an old newspaper, one Isla had remembered seeing years ago and placed it in front of Scott, "ever since you robbed Vista Corp"
Isla leaned over the table to get a better look at the newspaper, a photo of her dad printed onto it. He hadn't changed much, he hadn't changed at all. He still looked the exact same.
"Oh, excuse me, burgled Vista Corp."
Hope smiled to herself, placing a glass of water in front of Isla. Isla mumbled a quiet "thank you," gulping the whole thing in under a second. She sheepishly grinned, having underestimated how thirsty she truly was. Hope smiled at her antics and went back to looking through her papers.
"Vista's security system is one of the most advanced in the business. It's supposed to be unbeatable but you beat it. Would you like some sugar?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
Isla watched as two ants shuffled over with a block of sugar each. She squinted her eyes, confused as to how the ants were doing this. She knew she had somewhat of an influence over animals, zoolingualism was what the zoologist told her on her fifth grade trip. She could get the ants to do what she wanted to do but if it were up to her, but based on her thoughts the ants would spiral up her dad and bite him repeatedly until he was begging for mercy not oblige to his requests so she knew it wasn't her doing this.
She at the only other person who could have being doing this as she knew it wasn't Hope as she was too busy with her papers. Hank hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary, he just sat there. It could've been the hearing aid controlling the ants, but Isla knew that hearing deterred with age so she didn't think much of it. Hitting a dead end, Isla zoned back into the conversation.
"Right. But how do you make them do that?" Scott asked. Isla turned to look at the ants crawl up the tin, working together as one threw the cubes up and the other threw it back into the bowl.
Hank rapped on his hearing device. "I use electromagnetic waves to stimulate their olfactory nerve centre. I speak to them. I can go anywhere, hear anything, and see everything."
"Aha! I was right!"
Hope abruptly got up from her seat, picking up her briefcase. "And still know absolutely nothing. I'm late to meet Cross."
Scott bit his lip, hesitating as he raised his hand. "Uh... Dr. Pym?"
"You don't need to raise your hand, Scott." Hank responded.
"Sorry, I just have one question. Who are you? Who is she? What the hell's going on and can I go back to jail now?" Scott asked frantically.
Hank stood up from his seat, gesturing at Scott. "Come with me."
Isla got up to follow them, intrigued as to what was going on.
"Not you, you stay here." Hank said, in a voice that was no longer welcoming nor kind. "I'll deal with you later."
Isla huffed as she sat back down in her seat. "Why can't you just deal with me now!"
"Later!" Hank's voice echoed throughout the hallway.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
AUTHORS NOTE
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FOSTER CHILD | PETER PARKER
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