Grey. | marvel [2]

t h i r t y - f o u r

The party, as much as Elana would like to deny it, is incredible. The alcohol doesn't stop flowing, and it's doing marginally more than the stuff on Earth. She's drinking more than the people of Sakaar thought possible for someone her size and she's barely got red in her cheeks. The faintest tinge of pink, perhaps, the tiniest amount. She sticks with Hulk, who introduces her to Scrapper 142.
"So, do you have a proper name? Or am I going to have to call you 142?" Elana asks, shouting to be heard over the blasting music. The other women just smiles.
"Hulk calls me Angry Girl," she says.
"Angry Girl it is," Elana nods, throwing back another shot with her. "I think we're going to be very good friends."

The party doesn't end until the 'early' hours of the morning (Elana finally goes to bed at five). She's escorted to the room near to Hulk's, since he was the reason she'd showed up. The morning after, she's up after just two hours of sleep. She doesn't feel any exhaustion that a normal person would. She finds some workout clothes in the style of the Sakaarian fashion.

She wanders around the large complex that constitutes the palace of Sakaar until she finds Angry Girl in a gym of some sort.
"Hey," Elana says as she enters, alerting the girl to her presence. She turns and the blonde notices that she still has a bottle of alcohol in her hand.
"You're up early," the dark haired girl comments.
"I don't sleep much," she shrugs in response. She begins warming up in the corner, watching Angry Girl... well, she wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but it was something. It looked partially like a drinking game and partially like some form of training.

Elana goes straight to the punching bags (they help her think when she has a problem). She doesn't bother wrapping her hands, just like she wouldn't bother back home. The dull thuds of her fists hitting the bag bring her comfort, even so far from home. "You have a strong hit." Angry Girl has her eyes watching Elana from the other side of the room. "And impeccable technique."
"Call it intense training," the blonde shrugs in reply.
"Intense training, sure. But perfection to such a degree also has something to do with the type of person you are." The statement has an air of lingering question- of unconfirmed assumptions about what may be happening on Earth and of Elana's upbringing. It carries a sense of prying, one that the blonde does not appreciate.

Elana looks up at her, a slight darkness overcoming her features. "I was taught to be a perfectionist, it's nothing to do with who I am and it's everything to do with who my trainers wanted me to be."
Before Angry Girl can reply, the voice of the Grandmaster rings out over the training room. "So you found the gym, Elana."
"I did. The party last night was exceptional," she compliments, turning around and masking the shadows that had appeared with a smile.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Could I have a word in the throne room, please?"

Despite the faux kindness in his voice, it wasn't difficult to deduce that it wasn't an offer, it was an instruction. "Of course." She turns and nods once in farewell to Angry Girl before following the Grandmaster out of the gym. She shakes off the boiling anger that's flooded her veins after the mention of her training and the attempt at a pry by Scrapper 142, instead focusing her mind on what he could want to talk about. He takes a seat on his throne - however unorthodox it is - as she stands in front of him.
"I have a confession," he says. "I have a skill - I'm telepathic. I can read minds. But not your's. I would like an explanation."
Elana stands before him, her face not giving away anything. She assess him and Topaz, who has taken her place beside the Grandmaster. There's no sign of the contraption that Scrapper 142 had referred to as the Melt Stick, so she sighs and gives in.
"I have enhancements. On Earth, it was classified as Omnikinesis," she says curtly.
"Show me," he demands.
"What would you like to see?"
"Fight Topaz."

The bodyguard for the Grandmaster steps forward. Elana's eyebrow raises as the women readies herself. Elana surveys her with steady eyes. She's a lot bigger than the Russian, but the blonde can't see her being faster. The Sakaarian runs towards her, yelling as she goes. She side steps the attack, analysing and evaluating. Topaz clearly has some form of military training, but she is a soldier. Elana is a spy.

Topaz turns and runs again, brandishing her weapon this time. She goes to strike her opponent on the head, but Elana easily blocks the hit with her forearm. She twists and the weapon clatters to the floor. The blonde kicks it away.

Her leg flies out, catching Topaz in the weak spot between her breastplate and the armour that clads her legs. The force of the kick pushes Topaz backwards, causing her to stumble. Elana doesn't give her a chance to recover before she's picking her up with the white mist she has become so accustomed to and flinging her across the room effortlessly. The thud as she lands against the wall is greeted with excessive applause from the Grandmaster, who has stood from his throne.
"Well, well, I wasn't quite expecting that much force from such a tiny body And the control you have... My, we're really going to have to be very good friends, Miss Sokolov."
"I guess we will," she accepts with a small nod. She watches as Topaz climbs to her feet, muttering under her breath slightly.
"This has been most enlightening. Thank you, you may return to going about any leisure. Maybe get Scrapper 142 to show you around the rest of Sakaar."

Elana nods before leaving, not planning on finding Angry Girl again after their earlier confrontation. Instead she finds Hulk and sits with him for a while, updating him on the state of the Avengers and of Earth since he left.