pretty bird (Taken by my Hero)

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Gender: Female
Status: In a relationship
Age: 27
Country: United States

Signup Date:
September 16, 2021


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11/16/2022 09:03 PM 

2:14 PM

“What happened to you? It’s been…years since I last saw you. Since you last sent a letter. Dispatched a message. Sent a text. Something?” Monica grimaces, turning from her glass to Carol sitting beside her at the bar. It’s a small establishment within her Louisiana hometown, Monica returning after the disaster of the Maximoff anomaly was resolved, still adjusting to her new abilities, and seeing Carol for the first time in too long.

She’s dressed in simple worn, comfortable jeans and a casual top, much like Carol, and drinking a clear carbonated drink. The bartender added a sprig of mint as pizazz. It’s tactless and tasteless, like him; Monica has only taken two sips from it in the half hour they’ve been sitting here.

“Where were you?” Monica continues. “I—I tried to contact you. Tried with Uncle Fury, with the Skrulls. No one could get a hold of you.” Her grip around the glass tightens as she hangs her head, the locks of kicky-curls purposely styled to hang from her updo screen her eyes.

“There was… There was a lot of places, a lot of planets and its inhabitants that were displaced after—”

“Don’t!” Monica hisses, her finger pointing accusatory, still holding her round, fat glass. “Don’t you say it’s because of The Blip! That ended five years ago. Even Talos and Skrulls far in the galaxy found time for a simple hello.”

Carol’s tight-lipped expression colors with guilt, allowing Monica the space to vent while also knowing she’s in the wrong. She has difficulty looking Monica in the eyes when she turns to face her again.

“I know that saving the universe is important and a heavy weight to carry—and believe me, I would do the same if I was in your position. But at the same time…you’re supposed to be my mom. Don’t I deserve some kind of recognition?”

Carol studies the bar’s scratched, wooden surface underneath her folded arms, her face twisting further into a repentant frown. In the time she’s been gone, Earth has changed, new legislations have been written up worldwide, the love of her life passed away and Carol didn’t even know, and their little girl has grown up and is rightfully angry with her.

She’s missed so much.

How much more time will she lose, the lives of her loved ones passing her by?

“I’m done, by the way,” Monica informs, vitriol thickly coating her words.

Carol’s eyes close. When they open again, she’s captured by Monica’s awaiting glare. Monica, who’s her adopted daughter yet they appear so close in physical age they’re mistaken to be from the same generation—it happened when they entered this establishment. Her extended youth no longer humorous or flattering to Carol; it’s now an annoyance.

Her hair is still cropped short and she still feels the energy of the Tesseract flowing through her veins—Carol feels frozen in time while the rest of her home world progresses.

It feels like she’s blinked and her little girl has grown and excelled her expectations. She’s left to only imagine what Maria would say.

Monica waits expectantly. Carol wishes she could rewind time to fill the years missed.

“You’re right,” she begins, slowly. “You’re right. Ever since the mess with Thanos, I… I became so preoccupied with The Vanishing,” Carol uses the name coined by other alien civilizations. “The Blip,” she corrects, “That—”

“That time just got away from you?” Monica fills, repeating the excuse her mother’s famous for using.

“That I wanted to prevent something like that happening again, therefore endangering you,” Carol calmly corrects.
Heroes Get Made

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