𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝑔𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃
Charlotte Watson deserved a fresh start, a chance to begin her life again and be the woman she was meant to be, the woman that Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes knew she was inside. Her secon...
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I never thought when I began writing Slate that it would reach the point that it did. I never believed that people would love it the way they did and do, I never believed that people would love Lottie the way they did and do, and I just didn't think we'd ever get here.
Slate has created a universe. Your love of Lottie and her story is what drove the creation of Audelia, which drove the creation of Lydia and Eleanor. Their stories are coming, but it's more than that. Their stories lead to so much more, an entire new story that has been building in secret since the early chapters of Slate.
In honor of 200K, I give you all the prologue of...Bridge to the Multiverse
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"It's okay Nat, mommy is here. There's no need to cry,"
A sigh tumbled from Charlotte Rogers lips as the cried of little Natalie Rogers rang out through the room lit by just a single lamp in the corner. Blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes, Lottie bounced her newborn daughter up and down in her arms, trying to calm her cries that were quite loud in the dead of the night.
Her feet maneuvered over to the window, lifting it open with one hand as the cool breeze and the sound of the water against the shore floated through the air, little Natalie's cries softening at the sound as she cooed, burying herself into her mother's arms as a smile crossed Lottie's lips.
Leaving a lingering kiss to her forehead, Charlotte laid her now sleeping daughter back in her crib, locking the railing in place as she looked down upon her with a sad smile. Her blue eyes were so reminiscent of those that she had loved her entire life. Every time she said her name, though, memories flooded through her head that she tried so desperately to ignore.
Bare feet pattered along the wooden floors of the cabin as Charlotte crept her way down the dark hallways into the kitchen. She sighed once again at the time on the clock; 4:47 in the morning. She placed herself down at the dining room table, a small candle lit in the middle as she returned to the pile of papers in front of her, listening to the sound of the lake just outside.
Paper after paper she flipped, reading through the information on each as her frown deepened every single time.
CAROL DANVERS:OFF WORLD, LOCATION UNKNOWN
PETER PARKER:IDENTITY COMPROMISED, LOCATION UNKNOWN
