sour,,avengers

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳nine

𓆝 𓆜 ––––———–––––———–┊⁀➷THE BROWN HAIR. It was something she got from her father. And she missed him so much. She grew to like the villagers, and they seemed to like her.

They didn't know much about the youngling, only that she was a runaway, and they respected her privacy.

So, on a chilly November day, when she was out shopping, something very, unexpected happened. Allura was about to leave her small cottage to go shopping, when she noticed the streets were bare.

Nobody was at their shops or homes. Nobody was at a specific gathering, the streets were bare. That's when she saw it. The littered and discarded bodies of everyone she came to like.

Teddy, the little boy who used to read books with her, had a bullet hole straight through his little head.

Martha, the woman who would always slip her free pastries from the bakery had a knife straight through her heart.

Who would do this?

HYDRA

"Why are we here? What makes her so special?" Allura heard a girl say from behind her. She heard someone else scoff and she could feel the eyes glaring into her skull.

"I would also like to know." A boys voice. Allura was trying her hardest not to cry and finally turned to face what looked like a robot and two teenagers, maybe two or three years older than herself.

"I'm not scared of you." The girl muttered, her hair covering her face in shame as she looked down at the ground. Her hands were shaking, and her breath was hitched. Why her?

"Why'd you kill all these people robot? They didn't deserve it." She said the words had venom dripping from them, making the people flinch at the harsh tone.

"Not even half you're record. And, as for the reason we are here, is well because we need you on our side." Allura laughed very dryly, looking at the large robot with hatred in her eyes.

"You're one of Tony Starks. Do you want me to fight for the Avengers? What world ending threat makes them come to me." The small girl flipped her fading brown hair over her shoulder.

"Not fight for, but fight against. I know things you don't and if you help me, I'll help you, help you find your father and help you learn about your mother." These words tempted Allura.

She wanted so dearly to find her father. She wanted to hug him and promise him everything would be okay, that they would be safe now.

She wanted nothing more to learn the truth about her mother. What she looked like, the color of her irises, the sound of her voice. If she looked anything like her mamá.

So, with a hesitant sigh, she put the gun in the back of her pants and stuck out her hands with a raised eyebrow. She knew it was wrong, to partner with total strangers, but the idea of meeting her mother and reconnecting with her father clouded all senses of judgement she had.

Allura put her distant thoughts away and relaxed before eyeing the two other teenagers who were looking at her skeptically.

"What can you do that makes you so special?" The boy asked, he had a sokovian accent along with his sister and the same judgmental stares.

"I don't know." She didn't.  In all honesty, what was special about her? She was destruction in a human form.

"I like you. What is your name?" The girl asked, her eyes full of amazement.

"Allura."

"Wanda."