ᅠ Oh. He wasn’t aware he had an audience. He 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 struggles in these situations. Yes, he was once an Avenger, so there’s some level of recognition, but he’s also 83% sure whoever this is, is going to confuse him for Hawkeye. Let’s find out. ᅠ

ᅠ A curious tilt of his masked visage as his gaze follows hers to the rundown, shady gas station, complete with two lights dimly humming, barely hanging on for dear life that used to spell out its name. “You came here to 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙥? They close at midnight. It’s 11:40.” ᅠ

—— Looking for Marvel Muses to create my own MVRP collective and join in on the events. Requirements are as followed: - Capable writer, able to hold your own in the MVRP space. - Knowledgable of character. Minimal crack. - Patient with me, and willing to take the time

to grow. - Searching for specific muses that fit these archetypes: A Vanguard Leader (Captain Marvel, Scott Summers, Sam Wilson), A Shadow Agent (Black Widow, Domino, Fantomex, etc) A Mage (Scarlet Witch, Jericho Drumm, Magik)

And lastly, pure power. A Living Bomb. A failsafe button, if you will. (A Hulk, Sentry, Red Hulk, etc.)

There’s a sight for sore eyes…

“Was starting to think I’d never see you or the 25 bucks you owe me, again.”

He grins. “Spent the last three days chasing a smuggler through the sewers under Chinatown. Not fun. I need a burger and 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 a tetanus shot.”

Danny winces in exaggerated offense, swatting half-heartedly at Luke’s hand. “Harsh. I risk my soul in the name of chi and ancient tiger spirits, and this is the thanks I get?” Luke’s right though. He’s showered about 3 times so far. Still nothing.