"Hate is a strong word but ok, I think I got it. That's great." He let out an audible sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders releasing as he watched the other guy check out the nearly empty small apartment. Hey, he just got here and who knew if he'd even be able to keep this up?
He'd figure it out.
He'd need to contact Hope and Hank right away to check in and make sure they weren't ready to dip him in a tub of the Paraponera clav..a...ta.ta---the bullet ants. No thank you. And of course, Cassie.
"Yeah, I'm not exactly in the greatest of places after helping Cap at the airport. Which seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but, I have a history with those sorts of situations." Scott admitted, somewhat defeated. But maybe that would explain why he wasn't on house arrest here. Or the Swats were after him. Or his ex wasn't removing his visitation with his daughter. Yet. "Did you wanna, uh, take a seat? Can I get you some tea or somethi--Oh, I didn't catch your name Mr. Mystic Master of the Arts. Are you an Avenger?" Was he an Avenger?