Pyosimros
☆☆☆
Sometimes I wonder why everyday I have to spend my life protecting the lives of strangers. Though these aren't trite principles to me. My father gave his legs for these ideals. And now my father and I have to wear these damned suits for them. The symbiote we wear is an alien of great power and unkown origin, the thing keeps constantly trying to bond itself to me. And under 48 hours it will. Though now I don't really have to worry about it since I'm on a break. Cassandra was walking down the streets of New York with his father in a wheelchair not far behind. She heard about the news of Iron Man dying two months ago, but she never got to say anything to his child. She heard her father knew him, drafted him into the Guardians of the Galaxy. Of course the team is behind him now. The two of them went onto the ground floor and they talked to the lady working at the front desk about going up.