Rosetta Stone ▷ Pepper Potts

4 - PROJECT HELIOS

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑. She had maneuvered back through the city without difficulty, deciding to take a cab halfway, wanting to walk the streets to clear her mind, glad no one looked on in the city to notice a lost-seeming woman gathering herself with any semblance of control she could hold on to.

Although she had walked the same streets countless times, the walk brought back memories of her first time in the city, the sights and smells once alien to her, their chaotic fragrance setting her on edge, no tinge of of earthy loam to the air, no smell of spring growth or heady warning when rain was due. The fumes from belching vehicles underpinned everything, but punching right out of it were the spicy offerings of street vendors, coming sharply into focus like a zoomed-in camera before ebbing away again, only to be replaced by the next vendor and the next.

Mercy couldn't help but notice how much the streets looked like an unfinished painting as she stood across the street from the tower, suddenly doubting her decision, and she found small comfort in humoring herself for a few moments as she composed herself—while not perfectly white like a blank canvas, there was always room to add one's own thoughts and strokes, sometimes even if it meant partially concealing someone else's; edges were grey and cracked with age like the frame of a long abandoned painting, unrecognizable stains acting as unfortunate accessories as people passed over them in their hurry to rush on someplace else.

With a deep breath, Mercy crossed the street along with dozens of others, hoping that her presence appeared as commanding as it felt—she could use any and all confidence she could gather at the moment—before striding into the lobby of Avengers Tower, the small heels of her boots clicking against the polished flooring, reminding herself to keep her head high when she was faced with critical glances from numerous people; yet, it couldn't be said that everyone in the building didn't like her presence there, especially after several employees offered her a smile or a polite nod after giving them one of her own.

Making her way towards the front desk, she stood up straight as she looked at the woman who was watching her with an amused expression, her posture perfectly poised as she spoke.

"I'm here to see Pepper Potts," she said, her tone polite and firm, hoping the woman had officially placed her on an appointment list of some sort, she certainly didn't want to be escorted out of the building if she insisted.

The receptionist's smile dampened as she evaluated her clothing, evidently interpreting that she was an important woman of some sort, seeing as how she carried herself with a poised attitude and she could only hum as she waited for her to stop furiously typing, not wanting to show her unease but not looking too casual either, and it wasn't until she saw the woman's fake sympathetic expression that she began to exaggerate her own.

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't look like you have an appointment, who did you say you are?" the receptionist said, looking up from her screen to peer up expectantly, a pen dangling from her loose fingers, as if she fully intended to write down whatever information she provided and then throw it away in the trash bin at her feet.

"My name is Mercy Moore, I'm a gallery owner on Maiden Lane and Canal Street, I was told by Ms. Potts to contact her for a meeting as soon as possible," Mercy explained, pulling out the business card she had just about memorized by that point, placing it lightly on the counter and sliding it towards her, using the voice that she had perfected over the years from ordering authority over people who didn't think she deserved her position.