The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

It had been a few weeks since Roxie Danvers had been home. After the whole being-kidnapped-by-the-Kree thing (which Roxie was referring to as the Kreenapping debacle), Roxie had just stopped by to grab some clothes, and then she’d promptly taken off to her father’s private island - Areopagus - off of the coast of Greece. She’d needed a break - to take some time off away from everyone and everything, and think some things over. But she knew that she would have to come home soon enough, because there was only so much time that she could take off from school, and only so much she could do to avoid her duties at Young Woman magazine.

Now, she floated above her apartment, dressed in a flowing, Grecian-style gown in a dark, midnight blue. The colour played up the tan that she’d gotten in Greece, and complimented the new, dark chestnut shade of her hair nicely. A warm, golden glow surrounded her - warmth from her photonic energy. She'd forgotten that it was January and that it was, well, cold.

She crossed her arms across her chest, a frown tugging down the corners of her full, glossy mouth. There were certain decisions that she had come to while in Greece - decisions that she had kept her up at night, coupled with the nightmares reminding her that the Kree had wanted her to be their new brood mare. These were decisions that had not come to her easily, but decisions that needed to be made. She needed to make these changes, as much as she perhaps didn’t want to.

Hefting her shiny new war mace from one shoulder to the other, Roxie took a deep breath, and then descended down towards the sunroof that would let her into her apartment.

This wasn’t going to be easy.