[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/SR52k84p/54b4e63d635603b22d80f72a4ba2be54.png[/img][hr][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019a36d3-4be9-7616-9783-4fa7574f5e95.webp[/img][hr][@Morose][@Achronum][@Blizz][@Forsythe][@Kirah][@PatientBean][@Trainerblue192][hr][h3][color=AC3EFF][b]Morning - Thr. December 16th, 2038 - New Orleans, Louisiana[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][i]Patriot[/i]

Eli didn’t come from a grand legacy. He didn’t come from money, or power, or fame. When people looked at him, they didn’t see a hero. They didn’t even see a kid. They looked at him like he wasn’t human - the very same way those scientists had looked at his grandfather. He couldn’t enter a store without eyes following him, without hearing the words whispered at his back. He knew he was lucky - knew that things were supposed to be better - but gods, did they still fucking feel [i]exactly[/i] the same. New era, same hatred. He had to work twice as hard just to be seen differently - just to be seen as [i]good[/i], to be seen as an equal to someone like Cassie or Kate. 

He beat his fist against his abdomen again. 

He hadn’t come so far just to give up now. All across the world, hell, maybe even across the galaxy, there were people who looked just like him, cheering him on. Begging for him to get back on his feet, to last just a [i]little[/i] longer - to show that [i]anyone[/i] can be a hero, and a damn good one too. And it was hard. It fucking sucked. He hated feeling the weight of that on his shoulders. No matter how much he tried to share it - to share it with America - to share it with his mutant cousins, Billy and Tommy - he couldn’t shake off the weight. 

His chest expanded, rising and falling, as slowly, he began to breathe a little easier. He spat out a bit of blood that had pooled in his mouth, as he lifted his shield high. [i]“I can do this all day. If you want a fight, I’ll give you one.”[/i] 

[i]Stature[/i]

When Cassie had been a little girl, her father was her hero. He wasn’t tough like the Hulk, strong like Thor, smart like Iron Man, cunning like Black Widow, or brave like Captain America. He wasn’t like the larger than life characters she saw on the television screen. He was more than that. He was her dad - her dad who always came home in time for dinner, who made her smile and laugh, who valiantly chased away the monsters underneath her bed. She hadn’t understood when he was sent away, and why her mother was so upset when he came back one day, claiming that he had changed. He hadn’t changed, though. Not yet. He was still her dad. She still loved him. 

But he wasn’t just her hero anymore. He was a hero to so many more people. She’d ask him why, why he did the things he did - why he was Ant Man. And he’d explained, it wasn’t because it was cool (which it definitely was) - but that you were supposed to help the people you could, even if it hurt you. That he had gone away for a while because he’d helped someone else. And now, by being Ant Man, he could help even more people. 

Cassie wasn’t at Avengers Academy because she wanted to be famous - because she wanted to win the prize money in the contest. She hadn’t taken the Pym Particles that day in the lab because she wanted to be a hero. She’d done it because she wanted to help people - because it was the right thing to do - and the thought of standing on the sidelines, of staying home, when people were out there suffering… It crushed her. Not trying would be worse than failing. 

She wasn’t here for the glory. She was here to get better at helping others - knowing that with each punch she took, each plan that didn’t work, she’d learn and she would grow. The Contest of Champions was her opportunity to face the best young heroes in the world - to learn from their mistakes and their triumphs, to expose herself to new scenarios without risk of fatality. 

So if Eli wanted to continue, she’d fight on with him. Not to win the prize - but to be a better hero for the next person who would need her. 

“Okay! I’m in!”

[i]Miss America[/i]

America Chavez wasn’t from this world. 

She came from the Utopian Parallel, a realm created by the grace of the demiurge - by Billy’s future self. Her home was a paradise, free from the strife that marked this world. There were no plagues, no hatreds, no wars, no suffering. And of the blessed, she had been truly fortunate - the child of its leaders, her beloved mothers. Her mothers who had taught her to be brave, to be strong, to always speak her mind - to never give up and to fight for what she believed in. Even now, she could hear their voices crystal clear in her mind, lifting her up with love and warmth. 

Voices she wished so desperately she could hear again. 

But she knew that they were with her, always - that even in this other world, they were by her side, each step of the way. As she looked out into the stands, she imagined them sitting there, cheering for her. America gave them a wave. [i]“Te extraño,”[/i] she whispered. [i]“Te amo.”[/i]

They’d want her to continue on - to be brave. 

“Hell yeah! There’s nothing I love more than a good brawl!” America exclaimed, breaking out into a grin as she wiped some tears away from her eyes. “I’d love to go a few rounds with you, if you’re up to it,” she then added, challenging Andy directly. “Don’t hold anything back.”
[hr]In the infirmary, everyone was being tended to as best as the staff could. But with eight patients, it was easy for people to slip through the cracks - namely Leah, leaving the medical ward and entering the backstage area. The lockers where they had suited up, a green room filled with snacks, even a designated space for meeting with the press - and a plethora of camera equipment - all of these things were back here. The arena had been mystically constructed for this tournament, contained within a pocket dimension. Should Leah manage to find the exit, she could make her way back to Bourbon Street - and from there, to the Kingston-Gray house, the hotel, or any other locale that suited her. 

She’d receive a text on her phone from She-Hulk: [i]You did great, kiddo. I’m so proud of you.[/i]

As for the other patients, Percy’s breathing had begun to slow, as the amount of stimuli slowly subsided. The Young Avengers were huddled up together, Tommy frantically running back and forth as a healer attended to Billy - aside from some burns caused by Danni, his main injuries seemed to be psychological. Teddy was in okay shape, waving away his physician. 

“I heal fast,” he assured them. “Thank you, though.”

Kate frowned. “No, no, no. You [i]both[/i] are getting looked at. Save the martyr act for later, Teddy.”

Billy chuckled slightly, a small light rekindling in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment before. "Please, Teddy. For me?" he pouted his lip. 

Teddy crossed his arms, and huffed. "Those eyes don't work on me anymore, Kaplan."

"Don't they, though?"

[i]"Billy."[/i]

"Hey - I'm just saying!"