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5 days ago
Current I spent two and a half hours at Urgent Care, then another five at the ER. Today was "fun"
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6 days ago
Blew off the dust from my interest check. Let's see if I can't get some 1x1's going, again!
2 mos ago
Finally getting into The Boys and I finally understand. I don't think I've ever actively rooted for someone's downfall as much as I am Homelander's.
5 mos ago
I just realized 2008 was fifteen years ago. I didn't care for that
6 mos ago
I saw a woodpecker today. I'm not quite sure why, but it made me happy


Welcome to Hell (AKA, the mind of an idiot)

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Throwing my interest in here, too!

Also willing to open this up to small groups!

Good lord, this thing's dusty. Anyway, after seven-ish years, here's a new bump with some new edits to go with it!


It was late afternoon, passing into evening and Vincent was in his room. Iron masses and clouds of carbon hung in the air above him, combining and separating or forming complex patterns as he thought about what to make. Images of hot dogs, pizza, and baked potatoes, among other things, appeared and disappeared before an idea that he liked finally came to mind. ”I could go for some curry,” he mused as he sat up. The carbon and iron recombined and returned to his implant as he stood and left his room to walk to the kitchen.

There was already a pot of something bubbling away on the stove. There were bowls of pre-cut vegetables neatly set in rows next to it. A heap of shredded chicken sat lonely on a plate, clearly intended to be added to the boiling broth. It was starting to get dry at this point. If you would lift up the lid you would find that the broth had nearly reduced to half the original amount.

The sleep deprived chef of the well intended chicken soup was hauled up on the sofa in the lounge. Daphne fell asleep with the cook book folded open on the floor next to her. Judging from the state of the kitchen she’d been asleep for at least an hour.

Vincent’s brow furrowed at the state of the kitchen, his kitchen, and was about ready to find whoever left it in such a state to tear into them until he saw Daphne asleep on the couch with a cookbook next to her. He felt his anger fade, replaced by mild irritation, and let out a sigh. First thing he did was turn the stove off, then he walked over to his teammate. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he gently shook her as he said, ”Hey, Daph, wake up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you were planning on serving dry chicken.”

Daphne startled awake bumping headfirst into Vincent’s forehead.

”Bah!” Vincent exclaimed at the sudden headbutt, more out of surprise than pain.

She was pretty sure that was going to turn into a bump. Her finger touched the sore spot. Looking up to see Vincent she immediately went into apology mode.
“Sorry Vincent, I must have…..fallen asleep”

“Is your head okay?”
Her soup!

Without waiting for an answer she jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. When she took off the lid from the pot she was disappointed to see nearly half of her stock had evaporated.
“This is fixable right? I’ll just add more water.” Daphne mumbled to herself.

Rubbing his forehead, Vincent followed Daphne into the kitchen. ”Yeah, that should be fine,” he said. ”It doesn’t look like you left it alone for too long, so it should still be salvageable. That chicken, too, so long as it hasn’t been more than a couple hours.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter as he watched Daphne for a few moments, then asked, ”I never pegged you as the kinda girl to take a nap in the middle of meal prep. Everything okay?”

Daphne added water to the pot until it was back to being two thirds of the way full of soup. She added the veggies and chicken, stirring the ingredients gently so they could spread out. Vincent saying it would be fine gave her more confidence. He was a talented cook and could also bake pretty well.

She stopped stirring the pot to look at Vincent, letting the spoon rest across the top of the pan.
“Yes I’m okay. I’ve just been having trouble sleeping this past week or so.”

Eager to change the subject to something less uncomfortable Daphne retrieved the cookbook from the lounge. She showed it to Vincent.
“I’ve tried a bunch of things from in here, some of them came out really good, others not so much”

Vincent couldn’t help but get the feeling that Daphne was hiding something, but he decided not to pursue it. He was still relatively new to the team, so he knew better than to expect people to be willing to open up to him, at least not so soon. Even he wasn’t as much of an open book as some might think.

Daphne started to clean up the counter to make space for Vincent.

“Or maybe that’s more me than the book…” She said with a chuckle.

Vincent walked over to the counter and set the cookbook down on the space Daphne cleared. He flipped through a few pages, noting the various marks, dogears, and annotations Daphne had made throughout. ”Nah, I don’t think you’re the problem,” he said. ”Even cookbooks aren’t perfect. Some recipes might call for an extra pinch of salt here, an unneeded splash of soy sauce there. That’s why I don’t use them.”

Daphne let that bit of cooking wisdom sink in. She added the tiniest pinch of salt. The soup was starting to come back to a boil. She lowered the heat so it could simmer.
“So…how did you get into cooking?”

Vincent was quiet for a moment as he cast his eyes upward in thought. After a few moments, he said, ”It was after I got to Bludhaven. The guy who took me under his wing told me I couldn’t mug people for money, anymore, actually told me I wasn’t allowed to fight on the streets at all, unless I couldn’t avoid it. He found me some work in a restaurant as a busboy and I did well enough that the manager let me work in the kitchens. At first, it was just a way to make some money and keep the Old Man off my back, but after a while, I fell in love with cooking.”

With his happy go lucky attitude it was easy to forget that Vincent’s past was rough. Daphne thought back on their picnic a while ago. There was probably so much more she didn’t know. She contemplated on asking him more about his past, the fighting, the old man.

“Who’s the old man? I think I remember you mentioning him before. He sounds like an important person in your life.”

Vincent had been stirring the soup, only to falter for a moment when Daphne asked her question. For the first time since they started talking, he seemed to hesitate, but quickly gathered himself. He resumed stirring as he said, ”He was. I never learned his actual name. Every time I asked him about himself, he’d make me go train or flat out ignore me, but he was the guy who made me into what I am today. He taught me how to fight, gave me tips on controlling my power.” He pulled the spoon out of the soup, then chuckled as he tapped it on the rim of the pot. ”If not for him, I’d probably be dead a hundred times over.”

Daphne flinched inwardly when she noticed Vincent’s subtle reaction to her question. Her heart sank when Vincent told her the man wasn’t alive anymore. She gave him a hug, standing on her tippy toes.
”Sorry….I don’t actually know how to react.”

He really didn’t deserve any of the bad things that had happened to him. It made her sad to know that he had to go through all that.

Vincent looked down, surprised at the sudden hug. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember the last time he was hugged. Usually, any time he had any physical contact with someone, save for that time he flew with Pei, it was during a fight, so he wasn’t entirely sure how to react, either. After a moment, he smiled and gave Daphne’s back a couple of pats and said, ”There’s, uh…nothing to apologize for. I appreciate it, though.”

Clearing his throat, he turned back toward the soup. ”So, uh, anyway, I think this is coming along pretty nicely,” he said. ”Wanna give it a taste?”

”Yes let’s!
Yep, just joined up lol
<Snipped quote by Daxam>

We’re looking for the coolest of the cool.

Oh, okay, I'll see myself out, then.

I'll have a CS up soon as possible lol
Hey, you guys still looking for people?
Vincent and Pei

Vincent’s bare fists slammed against the punching bag, each punch fueled by his anger. At first, his mind focused on the debriefing, how almost everyone was so ready to, the way he saw it, punish KJ for something he didn’t do. In hindsight, however much he didn’t want to admit it, he knew they were right. It would be best if he didn’t join them on any missions, at least until he could get…whatever that was under control. But that wasn’t why he was pissed.

He knew why he was angry. The real reason. He was furious with himself. Furious at letting himself end up in the position he did, furious at the way his ribs screamed at him with every breath. He was angry that he had let himself be weak, again, like he was when his parents were killed or when he didn’t stand up to himself when his cousins were being cruel, or when–

He grit his teeth and let out a roar as he slammed his fist into the punching bag with all he had. He felt his knuckles split open as the bag bounced on its chain, but other than the warm blood that seeped from his knuckles, he hardly felt it. He stood there, breathing heavily as he glared at his shaking hand, irritated that he couldn’t tell if it was shaking from anger, pain, or something else.

Pei peeked around the corner of the gym. When he wasn’t in the training area or the infirmary, she guessed he might be in the gym. He didn’t seem to be the type to lock himself in his room. Compressing her lips, she saw the emotional state he was in. Screaming and punching himself bloody. Not great signs. A far cry from the happy-go-lucky guy she first chatted too about fighting Nightwing. It was a little scary. She stepped back, took a deep breath to compose herself, and then stepped into the gym.

She walked slowly, meanderingly, taking steps to the side. Slow, unsteady progress towards him. ”Hey, buddy. How, uh, how ya holdin’ up?” She asked.

Hearing Pei’s voice, Vincent looked up from his hand. Pulled from his thoughts, his body reminded him that he was injured and he winced. Unsure of whether to rub his knuckles or his ribs, he settled for both, rubbing his ribs with his injured hand while he placed his other hand on top. ”Peachy,” he grumbled. He was quiet for a few moments after that, then asked, ”Did you guys decide what to do?”

Locking and unlocking her fingers, Pei grimaced. ”Well, yeah. We gotta bench him, Vincent.” She said quietly. ”Are you mad?”

A long sigh, then Vincent spoke. ”No. No, not about that. It sucks, but I understand why we have to. I just hope he understands, too.”

He walked over to one of the benches against the wall and slowly sat down with a groan. ”Damn ribs,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. To Pei, he added, ”Sorry I blew up like that. I’ve never had the greatest handle on my temper and I’ve got shit on my mind, so…yeah.”

Pei brightened. Vincent had given her an opening. She planned on taking it. She plopped herself down next to him, swinging her legs a little. Reaching into a zipped bag in a belt around her waist, a fanny bag if you will, she produced a first aid kit.

”So, you’re not mad about that. But if I had to hazard a guess, you’re definitely mad about something. That shit on your mind; Could I take a look?” She asked, absent-mindedly fiddling with some soap to clean Vincent’s cut knuckles.

”Gonna have to take a look at that, too.” She murmured so quietly Vincent could barely hear her.

Then she spoke up again. ”My dad says: Words have weight. You gotta say the words you’re thinking, otherwise your head’ll get too heavy and you’ll fall over. Something like that, anyway. Kind of like a bunch of people were doing out there in that AAR. Just hopefully less scary this time.” She said with a little smile.

Vincent looked at the soap in Pei’s hand, then down at his own hand before he held it out to her. ”Go nuts,” he said with a shrug. A moment later, he added, ”Thanks, I mean.”

”Oh, uh. Okay. We’d have to get it washed and stuff, too.” She muttered, wrapping his hand with some Justice League supplied bandages. ”If nothing else it’ll stop all the dripping.”

After that, he was quiet for a little while. On the one hand, he hardly knew Pei and he wasn’t sure about baring his soul to someone who was essentially a stranger. Though, on the other hand, after their first one-on-one talk, he could consider her the first friend he made since he had joined the team. He sighed quietly, then said, ”I hate feeling weak. If I have to die, I don’t mind it so long as I’m on my feet and I can do something about it. But when I was pinned on my back, underneath whatever Kila had become…I was as helpless as I was the night my parents died…”

Pei bit her lip. She set her hand on Vincent’s shoulder and stared into the middle distance, trying to choose her next words carefully. Both the AAR and her conversation with Kila after the bank had been playing on loop in her memory. Clearly, if she was capable of choosing the right words, she hadn’t done it yet. Her heart rattled against the bars of her ribcage. Do something right for once! It can’t be that hard, right?

”Uhh…hey. I’m sorry that happened.” Pei said. Still not really sure what else to say to someone’s trauma. But she still felt like she had something to offer. ”But no way you’re weak. I don’t really buy that. Losing doesn’t make you weak, y’know. When you’re a superhero, you’re taking hits for people who can’t take them for themselves. That means you’re gonna fall over sometimes.” Pei said.

”Maybe even a lot times.” She added.

”I get what you’re saying and I appreciate it,” Vincent replied, ”but it’s not just the fact that I lost that’s getting to me, it’s the way I lost.”

He sighed and looked at his hand. ”The Old Man got me as far as he could, he quietly said. ”I wouldn’t be who I am without him and what he did for me…but it’s not enough, not anymore.” His fingers curled and he clenched his fist. ”I need to talk to Nightwing. If anyone can help me get stronger, it’s gotta be the bat’s first sidekick.”

”I mean, go for it. By all means.” Pei said. ”Nothing wrong with, y’know, training montages. Running up and down mountains, doing handstands on wooden poles at the top of a mountain. Carrying water in two pots up a mountain. Lots of mountains. Maybe if you found a training mountain- y’know we live on a mountain now.” At that last revelation Pei gasped and smacked Vincent’s shoulder with the back of her hand.

”Still might lose, though. In embarrassing ways. Like running into a burning building, bonking your head on one of those pull-up bars some people put in their door frames, not realizing it dislodged your mask and then passing out on the stairs. Just uh, y’know, as a hypothetical example.” Pei said.

Vincent looked at Pei for a few long moments before he finally burst out into laughter. ”Can you…can you imagine? I go flying into a fight, like at the docks, ready to fight, and get taken out by a fucking crane?”

Pei grinned wide, doing an exaggerated shrug. ”I dunno! It could be dark!” She laughed.

He probably laughed more than he should have, but given how he had been feeling since the previous night, he didn’t care. He felt himself relax and the anger he had been feeling all morning fade, not completely, but enough to not be so intrusive at the moment. He wiped his eyes, gave Pei a pat on the back, and said, ”Thanks, Pei. I needed that.”

Pei was over the moon. ”Always happy to do a help. To help.” She said.

”Think you might be done with boxing practice for the day, or..?” Pei asked.

”Yeah, I think so,” Vincent said as he looked down at his bandaged hand and added, ”I gotta go get this treated and figure out lunch for everyone. Might cobble together a pizza or something. Other than that, thanks for coming to check on me, Pei. I appreciate it.”

Pei stood up and saluted. ”What are friends for, right? Good luck with the treatment. And the cobbled pizza.” Pei said. ”I’m gonna head on out.”

Rounding the corner and out of Vincent’s sight, Pei pumped her fists. ”Yesss!” She raised them victoriously. ”Iceburn!”
Hey, I know you've got a bunch already interested, but is there room for one more? This kinda thing really seems right up my alley.

I'll be able to get a CS written up after work tomorrow!
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