Hey, Miranda, is this thing recording?

Okay, good, thanks.

Hi, everybody. Ivy's back. And, as you can see, I'm still one piece after Iron Man 3. If you haven't heard my last recording, the one about The Avengers, I suppose you could go find it somewhere. [What, Miranda? Fine.] Here's a quick summary. Got pulled into the Avengers movie universe, met the team, saw the Chituari invasion, went home, the end. [What? I said it'd be quick.]

I hadn't stepped foot a theater since I'd seen The Avengers until I saw Iron Man 3. It hadn't been my idea, but Ariel and Carmen had hatched the plan, thinking it would be a great surprise gift for my sixteen birthday.

Yeah, I celebrated my birthday by watching the guy who saved my life when Loki shoved me off Stark Tower getting beaten around and tormented by what happened in New York. Just like I was - and still am.

After a month, they decided to hold a movie night at Carmen's house and tricked me into coming. No Marvel, though Batman Begins and Napoleon Dynamite were involved. I have not, as of yet, been pulled into anything aside from Marvel movies – though the Doctor says it's possible. Yes, Whovians, that Doctor.

"That was fun," said Carmen, walking home with us. "Wasn't it, Ivy?"

"Yes," I said.

"You're quiet," said Jack. No, before any of you shippers get any ideas, he's not my boyfriend. He's a boy I take karate with and don't even know that well. "Normally, you're all over the place with excitement after these things."

"Yeah, well, I don't feel so good." I felt sick to my stomach, honestly, at the possibilities of all the places I could end up going. None of them were particularly pleasant.

My house was dark as we stopped off out front.

"So, see you tomorrow," said Carmen. She and the others started to walk off together. All except Ariel and Jack – the two lived in the same neighborhood and would walk home together.

"Oh, Ivy, I forgot to give you this, I got this for your birthday," said Ariel. She hadn't made it to the party and I hadn't seen her since.

She handed me a small box. I unwrapped the box to find a pair of earrings. Tiny crystal earrings. There are only two people on the planet who would buy me jewelry. Miranda and Ariel. Most people know me seem to think I'm a tomboy with a black belt in karate who doesn't care about being pretty. No, I don't wear skirts and dresses and pretty clothes and jewelry for the most part – skirts are annoying when trying to run or fight and every time I've ever gotten into a fight while wearing jewelry, it ended up being used against me. I've had hoop earrings ripped out of my ears before. Due to my tendency to find trouble, I dress to be ready for it. Still, that doesn't mean I don't like wearing jewelry and skirts, it just means it's a bad idea.

Anyhow, only Ariel and Miranda actually know that I like jewelry. And now, Jack.

"Thanks," I said, putting them in. "They're beautiful."

"I met Miranda at the store when I was buying them. She said she lost her TARDIS earrings a while ago – whatever a TARDIS is – and I had to ask her about what you were up to. What's up with that? You used to talk to me after our sparring matches, and I haven't had one with you in ages."

I put the earrings in. "Trust me. You don't want to know. How do they look?"

"Great," replied Ariel.

"Just like we don't want to know why you're spending every minute you can training in fighting, and why you haven't talked to anyone in the last couple months?" asked Jack, ignoring the question. "We miss you, everyone does. The way things used to be. Now we never know what's going on with you. What happened after you and Miranda went missing last summer?"

I couldn't look at either of them. "Thank you for the earrings," I said, and turned to walk to the house. I kept walking, and went straight into the dark house. My brother was playing piano in a concert that evening, and my parents were both attending.

A footstep sounded behind me. I turned to see who it was.

What felt like a needle bit into the back of my neck. Instinctively, I pulled away, twisting around and driving my fist into my attacker. It met with air. I staggered backward toward the door, the room already grower dimmer.

Someone burst through the door. My attacker went flying backwards. A metal arm grabbed me from behind as my knees gave out and then I was being pulled backwards.

"Got you," said a familiar voice, before everything went black.

Hey, everybody! I'm back, at last.

Have a question for everyone who read We Don't Belong Here. Does anyone think Ivy's a Mary Sue? If so, I'd like to know.