Description
I walk over behind Steve and T'Challa and peek over their shoulders at the oversized Pez dispenser. Faintly, I can see a man dressed in sterling white clothes. It's a big contrast to the dark brown, shoulder length hair on his head. While his body is blurry behind the foggy glass, I can tell that he's missing his left arm. The metal one. I look at his face curiously and find it to be peaceful. As most everyone's is during sleep. He has a strong jaw covered in dark stubble and uneven lips, the bottom is thicker than the top. Speaking of thick, by the size of the container I can tell he is. At least his arm and legs anyway. A nine point nine. And that's when he's frozen. "Well. Let's crack this thing open, shall we?" *I don't own the Avengers, only the characters and situations I create*
Chapter One-The Fugitive
