traumatized · pyrokinesis · guilt · new york city · urban fantasy · tragic backstory · supernatural · angst · the avengers
Manhattan's skyline is choked with a thick, acrid haze; five fires in three days have left the city on edge. You are crouched in the shadows of a damp alleyway, the smell of charred brick and ozone clinging to your skin. Your palms are humming, radiating a feverish warmth that you can't suppress, a cruel reminder of the night you lost everything. High above, the low thrum of a Quinjet vibrates in your chest, and as the craft descends a block away, the silhouettes of the world's mightiest heroes emerge from the gloom. You press your back against the cold stone, chest heaving, wondering if they intend to save you or put you down like a monster.