AN: So, yes. Thank you for giving this a chance, because I know OCs are always either well-liked or very much hated. She resmebles her mother though, and there's not going to be much of anything that's just about her. Like, Bruce is featured alot, obviously, and so will be Thor and Hawkeye, simply because they are my favorites.

So, you know, here we go:

They're all in the room that overlooks the main lab, staring at the girl who sits in the chair against the wall, studying the ground with a look of concentration. Her eyes flick up every now and then, glancing at one member with a frown, smirk or smile, before she looks back down again.

"She makes me uncomfortable," Steve whispers to Clint, getting nothing but a slight tilt of the head in acknowledgement in return. Maybe it takes more to get to Clint Barton then a young woman with blood on her hands. He does spend copious amounts of time with Natasha, after all.

"What are we waiting for again?" Natasha finally asks. From her place leaning against the wall with arms crossed, she doesn't present a person amused.

"Stark and Banner," Steve replies in a sure tone. "Fury wants us all here."

"Fantastic," she mutters, not even bothering to hide the way her eyes roll. The woman in the chair looks up at Steve.

"Will Thor be attending this interrogation?" she asks. It unnerves him that she knows about that, so he doesn't answer, just swallows uncomfortably and looks away. She leans back, looking at him with mild annoyance. "It's very rude, isn't it? For you to expect me to answer your questions when you don't answer mine."

"Thor won't come," Clint answers for him. The woman frowns.

"Pity."

They're silent for the seven minutes it takes for the door to open and Tony Stark to come sweeping in like he hasn't been keeping everybody waiting. He holds open the door for his companion, who looks at the others with an apologetic expression. It's no doubt that Tony's the main reason they're late.

"You could make more of an effort to pretend to care about the security of our country," Steve says pointedly, but Tony doesn't spare him a glance.

"Please, Grandpa, if you cared about the stars and stripes as much as you say you do, you'd have let me and Bruciekins focus on curing cancer."

"You were playing Call of Duty," Natasha points out.

"It helps us to think," Tony retorts, "And, symbolically, we are defending our country. Symbolism counts."

"No it doesn't," Steve argues.

"Well, then you didn't do much," Tony shoots back, stepping forward to the woman before Steve can say anything back. "Hi, Tony Stark. I don't believe we've met."

"No, but I've heard of you," she answers, looking him up and down. "You're not as threatening without your armor." The satisfied look that replaces the hurt one on the soldier's face pleases her.

"Yeah," he responds, "Banner doesn't look like much either, but I'd try not to piss him off."

Her head turns so that she can completely view Bruce, who's taken to standing next to Clint on the sidelines. Father hadn't mentioned a Banner, but then again he wasn't big on being helpful in general. She can feel power swirling around that one though, deep-rooted and strong and settled, held to him tightly, coiling like a spring.

"Fascinating." That's all she says, before she returns her gaze to Tony. "You were going to interrogate me, I believe?"

"Yes."

"Well perhaps you should start asking questions." She gives him a smile so obviously not genuine. "I have a dislike for stalling."

"So," Tony says, and he draws out the word, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "You destroyed part of Cleveland because….?"

"Because the sunlight was new and painful, and it shocked my demon to the forefront of my mind," the girl answers swiftly. "Sometimes I just can't contain it, you see."

Bruce crosses his arms, studying her. Her skin is unnaturally pale, but the dirty blonde hair paired with it makes it a bit less striking. The bright blue eyes though, there's no toning those down. They scan around the room, pausing only on Hawkeye and himself, though he thinks she takes a quick second look at Natasha.

"Uh-huh," Tony continues. "And when you say demon…?"

"I mean it literally, yes," she says, waving him off. "It's not particularly uncommon from where I hail."

"Where are you from?" Soldier Boy asks.

She looks up at him solemnly, her eyes flashing pure black for a second.

"I'll give you three guesses."

He looks more than a little unsettled, and several of the assembled Avengers freeze.

"Where do the demons come from?" she asks lightly, almost singing.

"You're from hell," Steve states, shock evident on his face. He's endearing, that one.

"I grew up there," she clarifies. "It's my father's domain more than it ever was mine."

"How'd you get up here?" Bruce asks from the corner he's placed himself in, glasses off and staring curiously. She's quiet for a moment.

"I didn't do it," she says firmly. If people think you can just go to afterworlds all willy-nilly they'll start asking favors. Besides that, she really didn't leave on her own. "My mother, he…..he sort of pulled me out."

"He?"

"It's not particularly uncommon to be birthed by a male in, well, everywhere but Midguard, I believe." She roams her eyes over all of them. She's had plenty of souls around her from here, and she knows the way some of them think. She knows the way most everybody thinks, but she'll never understand it. "Is that an issue?"

"No," Steve barks out quickly, "but the fact that you destroyed a city is."

"I didn't mean to," she defends. She hadn't. "As I've said, my demon was at the forefront of my mind. Once it's out, it's pretty much out of my control." She can feel a shift in the room, particularly concentrated around the one referred to as Banner. Her eyes flicker over to him. He's looking back, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She thinks back over everything she's heard about these Avengers. The Iron Man, Tony Stark, she knew him. Captain America, she'd watched him while he was in limbo for a bit before that had gotten boring, and she and the Jinn often joked about him. That may be why she'd felt a bit defensive of him earlier. The archer, the one who she recalls shooting her with arrows, and the only girl she'd heard mentioned are both present. So, since he's obviously not Asguardian, and he doesn't particularly seem assassin-y, he must be…

Ah. That makes sense then. She snorts a little at the thought of this being the man who got mother embedded in the ground. He's so much smaller than she'd pictured.

"She's not listening," she hears the soldier mutter, and her head snaps up to him and the man of iron.

"I apologize. Being ripped out of hell is a bit disconcerting. You were saying?'

"I asked you to explain what you mean by 'your demon,'" he stated.

"I mean my literal demon," she explains. There's one living in her, always. They're on peaceful enough terms. "It just hands out in my mind, for the most part."

"And it comes out to destroy towns?" the soldier asks slowly, obviously a bit disbelieving.

"I can't be sure if that's what it would normally do." It probably is, unless it decides on a more specific target. "Or if that's just what it happened to do this time. It's never been to the surface of Midguard before."

Steve whispers something to Tony, though why he bothers she can't tell, since it's not difficult at all to hear. To be fair, from what she's gathered so far her senses work a bit differently, but from the way the red-headed woman rolls her eyes she can't be the only one to find it a bit ridiculous.

"Yes," she answers before the man can ask again. "I'll subject to your testing."

Mortals, she thinks, frowning at them. They always pick up on the wrong things, ask the wrong questions. The red-haired one, the woman, she looks about as fed-up with her interviewers as she does, but she must not care enough to correct them.

"Alright then," Steve says with a nod and a tentative smile. "I'll be sure to add that you were very cooperative in the report."

"Oh, I can do the report for you," the woman speaks up, blinking her eyes at him owlishly. "I've got nothing to do at the moment."

"I'd hate to throw my work on you," Steve begins.

"No, no, it's fine. I want to."

"Well alright," Steve agrees with a thankful grin. "Thank you."

She sees the way the woman rolls her eyes once his back is turned, and the way the archer smiles at her in amusement. She laughs a bit at them to herself. They're not all idiots, then.

Good to know.

"So, what do we call you?" the Iron Man asks, leading her to some laboratory with the soldier and Banner behind her. She's certain it's a precautionary measure, though it wouldn't do them much good if she wanted to leave. She thinks over the question for a moment. She has a name, of course, several in fact, but they're neither Midguardian or relatively easy to pronounce.

"Lex," she eventually says. That's a name here, and it's part of one of her common titles.

"That short for something?" the Captain asks.

"Naturally."

They don't speak again until they arrive at the lab, Tony throwing the doors open grandly. The other men just ignore him, but she finds it amusing.

The Captain goes and grabs something quickly, walking back to her as the other two go off to mess with some of the many screens in the air.

She looks down at the small cup the soldier is holding out, frowning before looking back up at him.

"Urine sampling," he offers as explanation.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but despite being more than mortal I have the anatomy of a female from you realm."

Steve's ears turn red.

"I, um, what does that have to do with, erm-"

"I can't aim."

Tony breaks into full out laughter, and Bruce snorts from where he's messing with sterile, scientific things. She doesn't have words for those, but she does find their laughter a bit annoying. They should know these things, being the smartest on Midguard, shouldn't they?

"Jeez, Captain, think things through," Tony smirks gleefully. The man's entire face is red now, and he gulps.

"I think Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner can take over from here. I'll observe the less…scientific tests. Later. Probably in a few hours." He does an admittedly perfect about face and leaves. Tony watches him leave with a vindictive grin, before turning to the other two in the room, clapping his hands.

"Well, then. Bruce'll conduct some blood tests and scans, and I'll be back in an hour to pretend I helped."

"Why do you not actually help?" the woman asks, cocking her head.

"Because I'm making a McDonalds' run. You guys want anything?"

"No, thank you," Bruce says, already preparing a new file.

"I would like a happy meal," the woman answers confidently. "That's what they have there, yes?"

Tony nods.

"Right, not gonna ask how you know that, but sure thing." He walks out, leaving her with Banner. She sets herself on one of the semi-empty tables, watching as the man types in information with one hand and gather Gods know what with the other. She bites the inside of her cheek, concentrating. She could use her other eyes, of course, but they seem to upset the humans. She'd best save those. It doesn't look like she'll get anywhere without them though. She can feel the power, she'd have to be senseless not to, but all that comes from him is power, anger, and restraint. Humans are emotionally fickle, changing from one feeling to another rapidly, fluctuating emotions that swirl around them all at once.

Power, anger, and restraint. That's all she gets from him, and it's consistent.

Fascinating indeed.

He must be able to sense her eyes on him, though she can't feel him feel it, she can tell by the curios smile he gives her as he looks up to catch her stare. She doesn't blink or bother trying to act like she hadn't been looking.

"Sorry it's taking so long."

"No matter, I'm occupied."

"Doing what?" he asks a bit suspiciously, glancing around to make sure she hadn't touched something.

She can't actually feel the suspicion, can only tell from the typical signs in his voice and mannerisms. It's very off-putting.

"Studying."

"Oh," he says. "Um, studying what?"

"You."

He squints a bit, not sure how to respond. It's a blunt answer, not remotely flirty or something like that. Just a simple, clear answer, revealing nothing but the truth. It's very off-putting.

"I'm not very interesting," he finally settles on, going back to his tablet.

"You're lying."

It makes him look back up again, bemused.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Lying, it's…in my blood, a parental trait passed down. I can always tell." She frowns a bit. "No matter how nice a lie is, I'll always know it's not true." He blinks at her.

"That's sad."

"It is," she agrees. They just sit there for a minute, both pensive. Eventually they just go back to what they were doing, him working on her virtual file and her watching him do it from a few feet away.

He still isn't varying from power, anger, and restraint.

She ends up throwing a nearby pen at him. He jumps a bit, whipping around to look at her in confusion.

"Did you…?"

Nothing but power, anger, restraint. Damn.

"As you were," she brushes him off. He looks like he wants to say something, but just ends up giving a confused little half-smile and turning back to what he was doing.

"So, um, are demons just a natural hell thing, or did something else create it?" he asks after a bit, awkward smile in place and giving off tones of humor and curiosity. It's a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, -it's just the way I was born-, but the actual explanation is a bit more difficult to get through.

"My conception, maybe, wasn't a human one. Father created a demon, and put it inside my mother. The demon was infused with the egg of a God, and therefore I am both, just not really at the same time." She shrugs. "It's hard to explain, I suppose. I can't be both, though, not fully. There are times when I can use a part of the demon separately, tap into it, if you will, but most of the time I'm just me." She smiles a bit. "Usually just me is enough." There's a bit more of a story there, but she'd rather not speak of it, fresh wounds and all.

He nods from over where he's messing with charts and the like on some screen she doesn't bother to try and read. They have such interesting things here.

"What's it like?" he asks, looking over to her as he clarifies. "Living with a demon inside you?"

He wants to know, needs to know. It's been eating away at him since the moment it was mentioned, and that'd only been a good fifteen minutes ago. What if everything the hulk is, is an imitation? Something that's existed forever, recreated.

"Like sharing your mind with a best friend who hates you," she answers after a moment. "Knowing that what's in there likes you, will defend you, but would also step all over you the moment it can, if it will get it ahead." She smiles, titling her head towards him. "What's it like for you?"

He looks surprised for a moment, but shakes it off.

"Um, like you said, I guess. Only with less friendship and more a raging beast trying to wreck everything by throwing a tantrum if I get too upset."

She gets a pensive look, mulling his response over. Tantrum, a word for children, that's what he'd used. It's an interesting choice.

"It must take a shock," she says. At his confused look she clarifies. "To get the Hulk, -that's what you call him, isn't it-, to the surface."

"Just anger."

"But you already hold so much."

It's true, but he doesn't acknowledge it. She squints at him, trying to get a better read, but it's difficult. Either that radiation stuff is preventing her, or she's losing her touch the longer she's up here.

Or maybe he's broken, the demon inside her sings with a bit of glee.

She ignores it. Mortals are too simple to begin with to break so badly, are they not?

"Okay, I need to take a blood sample, if you don't mind."

"It's fine," she allows, frowning a bit. She's seen these on that show Father liked to tune in to and complain over, the one with the girls giving birth and screaming at everybody.

Bruce comes over with one of the things -needles, she believes they're called-, sterilizing her arm with one of those little square things.

"I did not realize these were cold," she mutters with a frown. He looks up.

"You've never had a blood test?"

"No actually, contrary to popular belief hell isn't big on affordable healthcare."

He chuckles a little at that, shaking his head.

"I apologize for my ignorance."

She makes a dismissive gesture, before holding out her hand as he opens the needle. He notices and looks to her face uncertainly.

"Did you want to do it?" he asks slowly.

"Of course not."

"O….k," he replies, bringing the needle up.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"You have to hold my hand."

"I-"

"That's what people do, Bruce Banner. We do have the media shows in hell. Sometimes. Father likes to broadcast the one new arrivals hate everywhere." She looks at him like he's the one unaware of normal behavior, and he can't manage to tell if he's bemused or charmed or annoyed or what.

"Right. Sorry." He takes her hand, still a little too…something to say much else. It takes him about five seconds to draw the blood.

The hand holding hers gets broken in the process.

"You don't have to set it, you know," she calls from where she's watching him frown over his own x-rays of his hand. She's fractured three fingers, and managed to pop the bones somehow so that his hand is more compacted than normal, and he winces at the thought of maneuvering them back to as they were.

"Seriously, I can fix that."

"It's fine, Lex, I'm a doctor," he responds reassuringly, because she seemed to feel bad about it and he gets the feeling that that's a rare reaction for her.

"A human doctor," she stresses, walking over and grabbing his hand in a way that's probably supposed to be gentle even though it's not. She tilts her head from side to side, making a face at the swelling that's occurred in the last few minutes. "And sweetheart, no human could do this."

"A truck might," he counters, because he's helped people in India, thank you very much, and no demon straight from hell is about to denounce his medical work. He trusts himself very little, but he knows medicine.

"Trucks don't use curses," She answers simply.

"You cursed me?"

"Sub-consciously, yes, and I am very sorry. Now hold still," the words rush together and then something in his hand pops, and he bends over in pain. He breathes heavily for a minute, trying not to scream, because he has dignity. He feels her pet at his hair awkwardly. "It's alright, I fixed it," she says gently. He brings his hand up to examine it, blinking still to discourage his eyes watering.

"It's not swollen," he says dumbly, because really, he can't think much at the moment.

"Yes," the woman agrees, laughter dancing through her tone. "It seems that way."

He doesn't bother glaring at her for it.

"How'd you do that?"

"Magic," she says simply. "I just wanted to fix it and so I did."

"And how'd you curse me?" he asks, remembering that this was all her fault in the first place.

"I'm not sure. It just sort of happened, without me really planning on it." She pauses, scanning him. "You understand that, don't you? Doing things without meaning to?" It's something she's been wondering, if he changes on purpose like she does sometimes, or if it's involuntary.

"Yeah," he notes bitterly. "I'm very familiar with the feeling."

Involuntary then.

"Hey hey!" Tony greets, bursting through the doors with a half eaten burger in one hand and a happy meal box clutched under the arm holding his soda. He pauses, looking at them oddly. "What, are you guys going steady now?" He presses his lips, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. "You work fast, buddy."

"No, I-"

"What's 'going steady' mean?" Lex asks.

"Dating," Tony answers brightly, ignoring Bruce's disapproving face.

"Like Mariah Carey and the Talent host?" she asks. He just looks at her blankly.

"Yeah. Like them." He turns to Bruce mouthing how does she know that? But Bruce shakes his head at him.

"Do you walk into rooms with the intention to see how quickly you can make people uncomfortable, or is something you can't help?"

"A nasty habit," Tony says, nodding. "Do you always hold hands when doing research, or is that just a happy accident?"

Bruce takes his hand back slowly.

"She was healing it," he hisses.

"I'm sure."

"It's true," the woman says, already poking around in the happy meal box curiously. "I broke it."

"She broke your hand?" Tony asks with surprise.

"She cursed it."

"Accidentally," she stresses.

"Well obviously," Tony drawls, raising his eyebrows at Bruce. The other man makes a point of ignoring him to carefully label her blood sample. They'd better not lose it, because he's not taking another one. There's a crash then, loud and coming from somewhere further down the hall. Bruce and Tony watch the door in alarm, and when heavy footsteps start getting nearer Tony grabs a metal briefcase set off to the side and Bruce steps back behind him, wary of whatever's going on. He's gotten used to surprises for the most part, living with Tony will do that to a person, but he'd still rather not demolish SHEILD's headquarters. The door bursts open, and whatever pushed them was enough to wrench one halfway off its hinges.

There stands Thor, God of Thunder.

The woman looks up from her mini-french fries with wide eyes.

"Olmlexerious?" he asks, his own eyes trained on her. She stares back.

"Hello Uncle."

AN: So, first chapter down. I have a bunch already typed, so hopefully I can be one of those speedy updaters. Please tell me what you think, I don't care if it's too thought out or not. Suggestions would be super-helpful.

I hope you guys think it's okay, I feel like hiding under a rock tbh.