Carol/Valkyrie
Her search seemed fruitless, not that she’d been looking long. She edged around dancers who were getting more and more lost in their cups. Cups she was beginning to think never emptied; she’d yet to see anyone set one down. She told herself that she was overthinking it, her mind trying to find logic in a place possibly devoid of it. She couldn’t let death completely go, even if she’d decided she had not died and Doctor Thirteen claimed she had not died. Val reminded herself to ask about “regenerated.”
Seemingly fruitless search for two faces in particular earned her another face she knew only a little. The way the powerful warrior was moving suggested that she’d been plied with much liquor. Or she was just that comfortable moving to music with no real moves in particular. It wasn’t bad; it spoke of a la k of caring, just being in the moment.
“Marvel?” Valkyrie hoped she was right in who danced before her.