[Kate has dealt with worse. Objectively, unequivocally, she's dealt with worse, but this feels violating in a way that no near death experience or alien invasion ever has. She keeps unconsciously reaching up to touch the ends of her brand new, utterly unasked for pixie cut, and being far too aware of how vulnerable she looks in these ridiculous scrubs.
God, she feels like a science experiment or an extra in some cheesy sci fi movie. But she's an Avenger, pretty much, almost, so she takes a deep breath and sucks it up. She doesn't have her bow, or any weapons at all, and these scrubs are not exactly baddie busting material, but she looks like an easy target as it is without letting panic get the best of her.
Kate squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and sucks it up. Time to do whatever it is she can to help, which starts with the people around her. She turns to one of her fellow scrub wearing companions.]
Hey, are you okay?
ii - safehouse
[If the market was overwhelming, the safehouse is... concerning. Kate alternates between creeping on the network as much as she can while trying to pretend her fancy new brain implant doesn't creep her the hell out, bothering everyone around her, and pacing. The pacing doesn't help much.
The truth of it is, she's never been in a situation like this before. In every other terrible, high stakes disaster she's found herself in, she's had options. She's had weapons, or a way out, or a team to back her up, but here, there's... nothing. Nothing but endless rows of cots and people who won't let her out. She can gather information, sure, but she's not even entirely sure what she's looking for. The lack of a discernible thing to do is driving her crazy, so she does the only thing she can think of. Namely, interrogate her fellow captives.]
Excuse me. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?
Kate Bishop | Marvel Comics
[Kate has dealt with worse. Objectively, unequivocally, she's dealt with worse, but this feels violating in a way that no near death experience or alien invasion ever has. She keeps unconsciously reaching up to touch the ends of her brand new, utterly unasked for pixie cut, and being far too aware of how vulnerable she looks in these ridiculous scrubs.
God, she feels like a science experiment or an extra in some cheesy sci fi movie. But she's an Avenger, pretty much, almost, so she takes a deep breath and sucks it up. She doesn't have her bow, or any weapons at all, and these scrubs are not exactly baddie busting material, but she looks like an easy target as it is without letting panic get the best of her.
Kate squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and sucks it up. Time to do whatever it is she can to help, which starts with the people around her. She turns to one of her fellow scrub wearing companions.]
Hey, are you okay?
ii - safehouse
[If the market was overwhelming, the safehouse is... concerning. Kate alternates between creeping on the network as much as she can while trying to pretend her fancy new brain implant doesn't creep her the hell out, bothering everyone around her, and pacing. The pacing doesn't help much.
The truth of it is, she's never been in a situation like this before. In every other terrible, high stakes disaster she's found herself in, she's had options. She's had weapons, or a way out, or a team to back her up, but here, there's... nothing. Nothing but endless rows of cots and people who won't let her out. She can gather information, sure, but she's not even entirely sure what she's looking for. The lack of a discernible thing to do is driving her crazy, so she does the only thing she can think of. Namely, interrogate her fellow captives.]
Excuse me. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?