Mjolnir

Descendants

^{#995749 .....|..... brutus .....|..... outfit ............... #796e9c .....|..... alloy .....|..... outfit ............... #375a87 .....|..... nightinggale .....|..... outfit ............... descendant tower}

"Think I’ll get a drink… and go for a swim,"

June had met Imogen’s gaze before it slid away, nodding once at the half-request. She’d turned, ready to follow the blonde but—

"Ms Wayne, I believe we have an appointment before you set off to your more carnal activities." Alfred’s voice carried to her, and Luke watched with amusement as the woman’s face flushed ever so slightly, her embarrassment flashing across her features. The older man smiled at her, and gestured toward the elevator. He’d never been able to picture a Wayne following someone else's instructions so easily, it was an interesting thing to witness. Thomas had always been rather stubborn too, though Luke remembered enjoying his stubbornness quite a lot before he’d gotten involved with Imogen. Either way, it made sense that his younger sister would be similar.

Of course, he’d only had a second to process that train of thought before he was being, quite literally, swept off of his feet. A faint wheeze escaped Luke, even by super-human standards Magni was strong and he hadn’t been expecting the sudden hug. He grinned at the other man once he was released, attempting to smooth his shirt as his eyes slid to Tobias. It had been years since he’d seen any of them, having left before the academy shut down and unable to maintain contact. Lucian often felt bitter over the circumstances that had torn his academy days to shreds, and he could only hope it wasn’t a feeling that was echoed in his comrades of old.

They’d both changed over the years, muscles filling out, tattoo’s adorning their bodies, and there were scars he was certain had never graced the other man's body before that were now there. Luke’s smile widened, and he pat Magni on the back thunderously to make up for the hug. "I’ll be there, old friend." Blue eyes connected with grey, and Luke’s smile turned into something a little more smooth. "I have to move my car first, but I’m sure you’d enjoy it if you came along, Tobias."

He let his eyes drag down the other man's body, lingering on his biceps, before meeting his gaze again. "Was one of those cars yours?" He could go up to his penthouse later, after some leisure time at the pool.

A small, nearly unperceivable, smile crossed Tobias’s lips as he watched Luke get lifted right off the ground. He held up his hands in surrender before it was his turn being swept up in an Asgardian hug. He didn’t think he could avoid whimpering if the giant squeezed his shoulder too hard. Although seeing old friends helped brighten his mood and lighten a bit of the burden he had been carrying for the past couple weeks. There was a small, optimistic part of himself that grew a bit more hopeful knowing both of them were there to help. While he would have continued the search alone until death took him one way or another, having old friends at his side helped share the load.

Tobias rubbed the back of his neck, letting out an awkward laugh. Pool water and bullet holes didn’t really mix. He also couldn’t recall ever having partaken in swimming when he attended the academy. But he was always more focused on training, sparring, or spending the rest of his time in the gym. He looked between both men, then conceded with a sigh. "I guess one night without responsibilities couldn’t hurt." His smile grew slightly.

As he stood up, he looked over at Luke, noticing how the man’s eyes lingered on Tobias’s biceps before meeting his gaze. He cleared his throat as he stood up straight. "Yeah. It’s the jeep," he replied, pointing vaguely in the direction of where his car was parked.

There was something immensely satisfying about how Tobias straightened up beneath his scrutiny, but Luke kept his face a little more neutral as the thought crossed his mind. They’d only ever been friends back at the academy, he’d been too wrapped up in Thomas and then Imogen, but he felt like a blind man who was seeing the sun for the first time. It was unlikely someone who fronted such a stern attitude would be open to a few nights of reckless passion, but that wouldn’t stop Luke’s mind from wandering in that direction. "Let’s walk together then, I’ll probably just swim in my boxers."

His grin was cocky and confident in a way it had never been when they were younger, Lucian knew the appeal his body had now and wasn’t scared of letting others know how he felt about it. He’d worked on staying in shape, it was only fair that his dedication was rewarded on occasion. "We could stop by your room first, though. If you need to change." Both of his hands slid into his pockets, posture relaxed and open, even as his eyes smoldered in their reevaluation of what he thought about going up to Tobias’s room together. "It’ll be nice to…catch up."

Tobias wasn’t going to argue. They were both going the same way so it didn’t really make sense to say no and then walk awkwardly together anyway. Luke was an old friend, after all. Even if the both of them looked like strangers compared to their younger selves. Back in his days at the academy he had no ink, less muscles, and, surprisingly, a bigger chip on his shoulder. It was hard for people to get close to him back then, not much easier now but old acquaintances had a step up compared to fresh faces.

"I don’t think I actually own swimming trunks," Tobias confessed with a weak laugh as he walked ahead of Luke and held the door open for him. "’Suppose there isn’t much of a difference between them and boxers anyway," he added with a shrug. The motion sent a flair of pain through his shoulder, but he masked it with a slightly clenching of his jaw.

Luke slid past Tobias, the faintest hints of musk, metal, and something not quite antiseptic invading his senses. The man paused halfway through the door, head tilting ever so slightly as his eyes lingered across the other man’s shoulders, then his chest. He caught the slightest clench of his jaw, but Lucian passed by without comment after a moment. "Easier access with boxers," he said, perfectly casual despite the small grin that was set on his face.

Tobias initially took a step forward to follow, Luke’s words taking a moment to sink in. When it hit him, he paused and eyes went a little wide. While he wasn’t a sexually liberal man, Tobias didn’t live under a rock either and caught onto the innuendo. He cleared his throat and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans opting to pretend like he didn’t hear him rather than find something to fill the silence.

As they walked toward their parked cars, he realized he honestly couldn’t remember what he was wearing under his clothes. Tobias hooked his thumb in the waistband of his jeans and tugged them away from his hips. He looked down and realized that in his rush to make it to the airport in time, and how uncomfortable getting dressed was, he seemed to have foregone putting on underwear. He laughed to himself as he pulled his hand away. "Guess I will need to change."

Slowly, Luke’s grin widened into something that was more goofy than cocky. He stepped closer to Tobias, every movement slow and confident. The tip of his pointer finger ghosted along the hem of his jeans, the touch was feather light and gone as soon as it was there. He pulled back, humming to himself. His voice was alluring, a soft timber that hinted at a pleasant singing voice. "I have an extra pair of swim trunks you can borrow, there’s the changing area by the pool." No point in adding temptation by following the other man up to his room, Luke was trying not to be too shameless.

Tobias inhaled sharply, sucking in his stomach as the tip of Luke’s finger hovered dangerously close to the tattooed skin of his abdomen. A faint tinge of pink flooded his cheeks as the man pulled away, humming like he hadn’t been dangerously close… What is he doing? Well, Tobias knew what he was doing but he wasn’t entirely sure why, or how to react. A blind person could see—shit, fuck, he caught the thought as if he said it out loud in front of Myla—what he meant was, Luke was hot, he was aware of that and apparently so was Luke. But he was a little confused at the sudden interest. Tobias didn’t really know how to react or what to say. No thanks? He was flattered but casual wasn’t really his thing? He opted for an awkward silence and feigned ignorance.

"Sure. If you don’t mind," he replied with a smile toward the blond as he stepped up to his black Jeep Wrangler. Tobias opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat. After shutting himself in a temporary moment of privacy, he rang his hands along the steering wheel and sighed. "Fuck." He didn’t bother with his seatbelt, just started the engine and eased the car around the roundabout.

Last time he attended the academy Tobias didn’t have a car, so entering the garage was all new for him. He had spent some time down there with a couple of his friends as they did whatever to their fancy super cars, but that was about it. He parked in one of the farthest corners, far from other vehicles and isolated, as he often lived his life. After hopping back out, he walked around to the back and opened the hatch trunk. Without thinking, he grabbed his backpack in his right hand and threw it over his shoulder. As the weight hit his back, Tobias’s knees buckled and his left hand braced himself against the car.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath to himself as he dropped his bag on the ground and flexed his hand. Tobias took a second to compose himself and calm his breathing. His nostrils flared as he leaned over, this time picking up the bag by the top handle with his left hand. He scooped up his helmet in the other hand by slipping his fingers through the eye holes, then slammed the trunk shut with an overly aggressive shove of his hip.

That reaction was exactly what he’d been hoping for, it was subtle but there nonetheless. The hesitation, the confusion, the surprise. It gave Luke a thrill down his spine, he knew he was drastically different compared to how he had been at the academy. He’d never been this confident, so eager to slide a finger between someone’s jeans and ghost across the skin he found there. He’d aged like a fine wine, the traits he’d had when he first met Tobias had been accentuated by the passage of time to become something infinitely more palatable.

A small part of Luke was worried his old friends would see how much he’d changed and view him differently, but it was still him, beneath it all. He was still shy, in his own ways. The confidence came from becoming stronger. More importantly ranked, from seeing her father’s pride in his progress. He still felt deliriously proud of the subtle reaction he’d pulled from Tobias as he slid into the red leather driver seat of his vehicle. The 2026 Ferrari F80 wasn’t technically on the market yet, but there were perks to being the son of a hero like Captain America. The engine roared to life before settling into a soft purr, and he followed behind Tobias into the parking garage.

Lucian parked a little away from the others, close enough that he could see the other man when he got out of his Jeep. He’d put in park moments before he saw Tobias nearby collapse, and he was out of his car and by the other man’s side before the action fully registered for him. "Why do you look like someone shot you?" His voice was sharp with concern, and Luke took Tobias’s bag before he could say otherwise, his free hand hovering uncertainly over the man’s shoulder.

Tobias sighed and jaw clenched when Luke pulled his bag from him. He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, trying to find some other answer. But if they were about to get into the pool, there really was no feasible way he could hide it. "Funny you should say that." His lips pulled into a tight smile as he tugged down the collar of his t-shirt revealing the angry bullet wound in his right shoulder. Before Luke could try to keep his bag hostage, Tobias opened his hand, willing the metal of the backpack’s zippers and buckles to come toward him until it slipped gently from the man’s grasp.

"I’m fine," he said with a stubborn finality as he slid the bag onto his good shoulder. "I accidentally bumped it. No big deal." Tobias flashed a brief and not very convincing smile before he walked past Luke and headed for the elevators. The last thing he wanted was a big deal to be made about it. Nearly two weeks had passed and it was doing better… Mostly. It wasn’t infected, there just weren’t stitches either. So it would take more time. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

Luke let the bag go, but his lips tugged down into his own stubborn frown. It didn’t look fine, it looked like shit actually. There were a few ways he could go about this, though the idea of throwing the other man over his shoulder was tempting, they were surrounded by a lot of metal. He sighed, falling into step beside Tobias. "You should get it checked out before we go to the pool," his voice was casual, calm, a little too innocent. "I know you won’t though, I guess I’ll just have to mention it to Alfred later. Knowing him, he’ll show up to your room first thing in the morning. Bright and early, around five? It sounds like the perfect time to get stitches, doesn’t it?"

Luke paused by his Ferrari, pulling out his own bag and slinging it over his shoulder before catching up to Tobias. A grin tugged his lips upwards, mischievous and coy. "You couldn’t turn him away either, could you? You’re too polite for that, I personally would rather get it done in the evening than that early. But hey, you’ll have fun I’m sure." Because there was no way he wasn’t going to tell Alfred or Phil, it would be in his best interest to get it taken care of tonight. "I could always give you the stitches instead, if you’d rather I show up that early." Now that was an even better idea, catching Tobias half awake, seeing what he slept in, stitching him up in his bed…Luke had nothing but good ideas.

Tobias stopped dead in his tracts letting out an exasperated sigh. His face was deadpan, eyes half lidded, annoyance palpable. "Fine. Fine… Fine," he huffed like a grumpy old man as he trudged the rest of the way toward the elevator. Once inside he hit the button for level 2… Maybe a little harder than was necessary and leaned back against the wall. He had forgotten how concerned people at the academy were about each other’s well being. It was annoying… In a considerate and borderline suffocating kind of way. Tobias appreciated it, in his own frustrated and broody kind of way, not that he’d say anything. It did hurt a lot, but anyone who knew him knew he’d rather bleed to death in silence than have people fuss over him.

When the elevator reached the infirmary, Tobias shuffled inside without a word. He tossed his bag and helmet in an empty chair next to one of the hospital beds. Then he crossed his arms in front of his torso and tried to pull his shirt off. He was able to get it up to his shoulders, then couldn’t move his right arm higher. "Fuck," he cussed under his breath. Then he tried reaching his left hand behind his head and grabbed a fist full of fabric, but got stuck in a similar predicament. "Motherfucker," he grunted, then punched his good hand into the hospital bed.

It was easier said than done to ask for help. With the way Luke had been looking at him suggestively, Tobias felt like he was opening the door for ill intent but he also didn’t know if he had much of a choice either. He clenched his jaw and nostrils flared as he turned toward the blond man. He couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye as he asked, "Can I have help… please?"

Luke looked reminiscent of a kid in a candy shop for a moment, his entire face lighting up at the prospect of being able to undress Tobias. He stepped forward indulgently, pleased with the fact that he’d even said please, fingers brushing the hem of his shirt, and—

The thin curtain that had separated the bed Tobias chose and the bed beside it jerked open. There, to one man’s horror and another’s amusement, stood Alfred. Juniper Wayne was perched on the bed beside him, looking her own brand of sullen and grumpy. The sheer white button up she’d been wearing during the meeting was folded neatly beside her, specks of red staining the tank top she wore. There was a long gash in one of her arms, sewn up now, but it looked too clean. Almost as if someone had surgically done it, a straight, red line that looked like it hurt a great deal. Luke’s eyebrows rose, not having expected the two of them to be in the infirmary.

"Gentlemen, what brings you here, are you well?" Alfred’s voice was polite, if a little guarded when he stepped toward them, effectively cutting off his view of June. The slightest wave of interest pinged inside Luke at the gesture, an unsolved mystery at his fingertips.

"I was about to strip Tobias," he said brightly, and a bit bluntly. Alfred flattered, an expression of open surprise crossing the elders face, and then Luke went on to soothe both men before either could interrupt. "He got shot, needs stitches and probably antibiotics."

He seemed all too happy to rat out Tobias, mostly because he wasn’t going to get lectured by Alfred on appropriate places to strip his fellow teammates…not tonight, at least. Without any more fanfare, Luke caught the other man’s shirt in his hands and tugged it up.

June made a sound of intense interest behind Alfred, and she leaned around the man to get a better look at Tobias, but her question wasn’t what he’d expected at all. "Was that a hollow point or a fullmetal jacket you got shot with?" Luke…shouldn’t have been surprised. While he was busy appreciating Tobias’s physique and tattoos, she was interested in his injury. Fucking Wayne’s.

Tobias felt like a deer in headlights when their numbers doubled with the opening of a curtain. He didn’t know what was worse, other people knowing he was shot or that Luke just casually mentioned stripping him in front of Alfred and June. Probably the latter. He sighed and took a step toward the male, wanting his pathetic need of assistance to be over as quickly as possible. Once Luke had his shirt up to the point where he could no longer lift his arm, he bent over and slid out. As much as he hated to admit it, that was significantly easier than all the other times he had been dressing himself over the past couple weeks.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath, meeting his gaze briefly before laying back on the bed with a wince and a groan.

With his weight on the bed, the computer whirred to life. The lights overhead flipped on and a robotic arm extended from the side of the table, placing a sensor on Tobias’s wrist. A soft beep that mirrored his heart beat echoed throughout the room as the machine took his vitals. Then there was a blinking red light that stretched into a bar and slowly scanned him from head to toe. "Lehnsherr, Tobias. Gunshot wound to the right shoulder, anterior and posterior. No residual debris. Recommended treatment: removal of decayed tissue, sterilization, and stitches. Do you comply?"

"Yes," he replied, draping his left arm across his eyes to block out the bright lights.

"Beginning with local anesthesia."

The robotic arms stuck him with three needles in and around his wound with no warning. Tobias clenched his left hand and gritted his teeth, but didn’t make a sound. Once he was adequately numbed and the arms had begun working on his front facing wound he turned his head to face June. "No clue. I didn’t keep samples. If it was a fullmetal jacket I wouldn’t be lying here," he replied with a weak laugh. There was no attitude or hostility in his voice, but he found the question entertaining nonetheless. "Carbon fiber or something… I’m not sure."

"My brother got shot by a fullmetal jacket before, it didn’t kill him but he wished it had for awhile." The woman winced in sympathy as the robotic arms got to work, cringing away from it some. "I hate those stupid things." June muttered, glancing with a vaguely guilty expression at Alfred.

"You dislike any form of medical attention, Ms Wayne." He reminded her primly, and Luke watched with amusement as she rolled her eyes in lieu of response. There was an air of close fondness between the two of them, the woman seemed infinitely more relaxed with Alfred there.

"What about you? What happened to your arm?" Luke sat down in one of the chairs by Tobias’s bed, crossing his ankles and leaning back some. He’d been shot before, sewn up himself in the field, seen a doctor, it was all the same really. Luke couldn’t understand disliking getting help when you were injured, it didn’t make sense to him, but Wayne’s were always particular about simple things.

"Training accident," she said smoothly, and though there was no hint in her expression or tone that would give away that it was a lie, something in his gut told him that it wasn’t the entire truth. Luke leaned forward, eyes bright with interest.

"Oh? What kind of accident?" He watched as her jaw tightened by a fraction, the gesture reminiscent of how Tobias had acted when he was pretending not to be in pain.

"The kind that hurts." June said tensely, and then before he could ask anything further she turned toward Tobias, effectively shutting the door on that line of questioning. "I’ve heard tampons can stop the bleeding in a pinch, I’ve never put it into practice myself, but if you can’t get stitches and aren’t scared to carry a few around…" She shrugged, swinging her legs off the bed and slipping her feet back into her heels. "Thomas mentioned it, a long time ago."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Tobias replied as he turned his head to look at June. He winced for a second when the robot slipped the needle through flesh that wasn’t full numb, but he was pretty well practiced at remaining still no matter the pain. He couldn’t recall if he had any of Helena’s old hygiene products in his bag, but since either types were highly absorbent he figured he’d leave them there regardless.

There was an edge to her tone, like she was in pain but pushing it down. Luke leaned back again, trying not to feel too disgruntled that his line of questioning was so expertly avoided. "I’m sorry about your brother," he offered, glancing at Alfred who had busied himself with putting away and discarding the supplies he’d used to stitch up Juniper. "I didn’t believe it at first, when I heard he’d gone missing too."

He watched as she went very, very still. Luke regretted mentioning it, it felt like he’d stepped on a landmine. Did he double down, or try to abort the initial action. Alfred paused beside June, holding out a small white pill for her. She sighed softly, the tension bleeding from her frame as she accepted it. It seemed the topic of her brother was as sensitive and raw as Tobias’s bullet wound.

"Thank you," she said, not looking at Luke but instead refocusing on his temporary companion. "Can I ask how you got shot? It’s okay, if you’d rather not tell me. I sort of figured you could…stop the bullets?" Her cheeks flushed, and she picked up her blouse, fiddling with the thin fabric for a moment. "If it was carbon fiber, it makes sense, but…I don’t know, isn’t it strange that they knew not to use normal bullets?"

June looked at Alfred when she said this, and the older gentleman paused on his way out. He looked back very steadily at her, and to Luke it looked like the two of them had a conversation without even speaking. "Don’t mix alcohol with that, Ms Wayne." He said, nodding at the two men before departing. June waited, quite politely, until the door shut behind him before she snorted and tossed the little pill back, not needing any water apparently. Luke had the sneaking suspicion that she would, in fact, be mixing liquor with that medication.

Tobias shifted his attention to the drop tile ceiling above him. "It was a week before the message you guys sent out. They came for my niece." He shrugged then immediately winced as it made the robotic arm slip and stab the tender flesh inside his wound. His face was stoic, emotionless, as he refused to meet anyone’s gaze. "Uh… I don’t know how they knew I was with her. But they were prepared. No ounce of metal on them. They could have had me too… But they didn’t want me. I think they’re scared of what my father would do."

He spared June a sideways glance. "Helena is powerful… Hopefully she can help." Tobias’s voice was quiet and a little pained like he didn’t fully believe it, but he hoped that he was right. Hope was the only thing that got him up in the morning anymore. As everyday passed he found it harder to find a reason to keep fighting.

"I’m sorry," June’s voice was soft and tentative. She didn’t look at either of the men, focusing instead on her discarded shirt. It was clear to Luke from her tone alone that she understood more than what Tobias had said aloud, the pain of losing someone the way they had could be shared without vocal sentiment. Lucian shifted uncomfortably, unlike many of the others he hadn’t suffered through any personal disappearances, he couldn’t relate to what either of them were feeling and it made him feel oddly inadequate. "I hope…" The woman trailed off, her gaze growing cold and distant. She seemed to emotionally fold in on herself, whatever she’d been about to say drifting off temporarily. "I hope she’s okay." June finally said.

To Luke, it sounded wrong. Not ingenuine, she meant what she said, but it was clear that there was more she left unsaid. He wondered, for a very brief moment, how dark Wayne's thoughts were when it came to the missing and what state they may be in when they were recovered.

"Thank you," he replied quietly. "I hope your family is too." There wasn’t much else Tobias could say. No amount of words would ease the pain, but there was a faint comfort in knowing they weren’t alone in their grief, no matter how locked away they kept it like him and June.

"Lehnsherr, Tobias, please flip over for your posterior stitches," the robot’s voice cut through the silence like a rusty blade. He sighed and struggled a bit, but eventually managed to flip onto his stomach. Once he was settled the machine continued to stitch him up.

"Will you be joining us at the pool?" He was trying desperately to steer the conversation into a brighter topic. She gave him a strange look, her eyes sliding down to her stitches, and then to where the robotic arms were still working on Tobias. "You both just have to keep your stitches dry, you’ll be fine." Luke added, reading the expression on her face accurately.

"I’ll join for a bit," she conceded, throwing a hostile look at the robotic arm above her bed. "If I rip my stitches, Alfred is going to make me use that thing so I’ll have to be extra careful." She seemed to have some sort of ongoing feud with the infirmary’s system, it was more than a little amusing. Luke was proud of himself, he managed to convince not just one insanely attractive person to accompany him, but two. Though, he had a sinking suspicion it was less because they both found him hot and more so because they were both pushovers. In any case, he hoped having more people around would make it less awkward for Imogen.

"You can sit with me on the edge of the pool wishing we could swim." He actually managed a sarcastic comment, it was dry and deadpan, but a tiny grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. As the machine finished up his final stitch, the anesthesia must have worn off or maybe didn’t quite reach there, because he felt all of it. His hands reflexively grabbed the edge of the table, knuckles growing white from his tight grip. "Son of a bitch." He growled through the final stretch with a scrunched and pained expression.

"Lehnsherr, Tobias. First aid complete."

The computer barely finished her sentence before he was up and off the table. Tobias snatched his shirt from wherever Luke had discarded it and shoved it in his bag. There was no point in putting it on if they were going to the pool. Robo-doc’s shaky hand left him a bit sore, so he honestly couldn’t be bothered fucking with his shoulder to get dressed. He glared over the male with an annoyed squint. "Next time you can get stitches from the Terminator."

Luke grinned at the other man, eyes sliding with an air of appreciation across his exposed chest. "Next time," he said slowly, gaze flickering back up to connect with Tobias’s eyes. There was a glint of his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and he seemed unashamed of the fact that June was sitting right behind them. "I can give you the stitches myself, I’m certain it’ll feel better if it’s not a robot." His smile broadened, turned to something a little more suggestive, and he looked from Tobias to June so he could wink at the woman. Everyone was an equal opportunity in his books.

In response, Juniper all but flung herself off the bed and toward the door, sending a sharp look at Tobias. "So, sitting by the edge of the pool? Let’s go." Her voice was a little high pitched, a blush crawling up her cheeks. He’d flustered her, how adorable. Luke glanced toward Tobias, hoping to see a similar reaction but knew he’d likely be disappointed, doubly so when June made sure to put Tobias between herself and Luke when they entered the hallway.

Tobias didn’t know if he was relieved or offended that Luke didn’t seem to discriminate when it came to his advances. He chose to be relieved as he threw his bag on his good shoulder and scooped up his helmet. While he wasn’t entirely sure if he was thrilled about being closer to Luke’s lecherous gaze, if it made June more comfortable then he could remain there awkwardly avoiding eye contact… Although he knew the man’s gaze was anywhere but Tobias’s eyes.

Since they were only going down one floor, Tobias didn’t really see the bother in taking the elevator. He moved over to the stairwell entrance and held open the door for both June and Luke. They made their way downstairs and as they turned down the hallway that led to the pool, Imogen came sauntering in through the doors. She was dripping wet and missing half of her clothing. The only thing she had on was her lacey and half transparent corset, and a thin white thong. She held an empty martini glass in one hand and an empty beer pitcher in the other. While she smiled and waved two fingers at them all, Tobias averted his gaze to try and be more respectful.

"Water feels great," she all but sang to them as she strolled by. "Watch your step," she warned them, pointing behind her toward the water trail that followed her.

June snorted, rolling her eyes at Imogen. She wasn’t actually surprised, but she was curious what had the other woman in such a good mood. Though, when she saw that Magni was in the pool it made more sense. The thong made sense too, actually. A sly grin stretched across her face, and she wiggled her eyebrows at the blonde as they passed. Luke watched the entire exchange with raised eyebrows, his eyes tracking after Imogen’s very exposed ass as she sauntered away, before he refocused on the pool as a whole.

Tobias side stepped the water and went through the doors first so he could hold them open for everyone once again. His gaze drifted over to Magni, thankful for a familiar face that wasn’t trying to get him naked. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he nodded his head.

June hesitated, trying to let Luke pass first, but one of his hands curled over her shoulder and urged her onwards. The woman cringed at the contact, but he pretended not to notice. Honestly, did she have an aversion to hot men? Between her and Tobias, he was going to develop a complex. She slipped out from under his hand, picking up the pace ever so slightly so she could beeline to the side of the pool. Luke grinned despite it all, headed toward the lounge chairs and pulled a spare pair of boxers from his bag, lobbing them at Tobias with a small shout of warning, before he started to strip out of his suit.

Tobias turned around barely in time to catch the boxers clumsily in his good hand. He looked down at them and then tossed them back. "If I’m gonna wear boxers, I’d rather wear my own." He flashed his best attempt at a thankful smile before chucking his bag and helmet on an empty lounge chair. It took him a second to sift through the mound of clothes that were definitely not folded inside and dug out a pair of black basketball shorts. He kicked off his shoes and then made his way over to the changing area. As he slipped inside and started to close the curtain he spared June a quick pleading glance in hopes she’d intercept Luke if he tried to attack him while he changed.

Lucian caught them, trying to appear casual as he caught the boxers and stuffed them back into his bag. It was a little disappointing, he’d have loved to see Tobias in his clothes…though, maybe he’d need help changing—he’d just taken a step toward the changing room when Juniper stepped in front of him. Her face was puckered some, like she’d bitten into a lemon, but she looked determined. Luke tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes sliding down her body at a leisure pace. "I don’t imagine you’ve got a bathing suit beneath that."

"Uh," she had a split second of looking like a deer caught in headlights, and then her stance widened ever so slightly and she crossed her arms across her chest. It was amusing, and he got a little too much enjoyment from watching how he affected her. "No, I figured I’d just do what Imogen did. It’s not much different from a bikini, anyways."

He smirked down at her, and got to watch how flustered the simple action made her. She threw a flighty look over her shoulder toward the changing area, and it clicked for Luke why she’d suddenly intercepted him when it was clear she didn’t particularly care for him. His smile dropped, brows furrowing ever so slightly. Had she and Tobias met before? The protectiveness didn’t make sense to him.

Something about how Luke was acting made Tobias feel equally uncomfortable with leaving June out there alone with him as well. There was Magni, but the Asgardian hadn’t been getting eye fucked for the past fifteen minutes either. He did his best to get dressed as quickly as he could and slipped out from behind the curtain just as he got his shorts up over anything revealing. He didn’t run over or anything but he didn’t take his sweet time either. As he rejoined them, Tobias slipped between both of them but kept his gaze on Luke. He gave the man a light, almost friendly tap on the shoulder. There was even a faint smile crossing his lips as he spoke. "If she wants to fuck you I’m sure she’ll let you know. But until then, give her some space."

Luke laughed, missing the soft sigh of relief from June, and rose both his hands up in surrender. He backed off some, spotting a losing battle when he saw one. He could be misreading the situation, but it seemed like the two of them were closer than he’d initially guessed. A shame, really, but there were other fish in the ocean and at the end of the day Luke wasn’t there to fuck anyone…well, it was a fun bonus of being surrounded by consenting individuals, but only if they were consenting. "Just being friendly," he said smoothly, tossing his removed shirt onto the pile of his bag and clothes, before he turned and stepped casually into the pool. He’d catch up with Magni instead, and leave the two of them to their…flirting.

"Thanks," he heard June whisper as he waded fully into the water, the rest of their conversation filtering out by the sound of water.

^{interactions ....|.... imogen ............... mentions ....|.... magni ............... collabs ....|.... @Sleepy Tani}

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#0bbdaf ....|..... outfit .....|..... party ........................................................................ #04ed42 ....|..... outfit .....|..... party}

Nate was shocked from his observations when he heard a couple glasses slide in his direction. He spun around, his steps smooth as he eyed up the shots before him. They were finely poured, and something he hadn’t seen before. Complex, appetizing, and consisting of hard liquor: Baxter read him like a book. It took no time at all for Nate to begin downing his shots. He did them in the order they were suggested, knocking back the first then the second. He ignored the questions and musings from the kid… Marlen, maybe? Sounded like the name of a fish… maybe they were the kid of the god of the sea. But they mentioned Apollo… Nate only recognized the name from some old boxing movie his dad loved. Could also be a god, or a person… Maybe a cat? Who knew at this point. Talking animals would really sell this chaotic environment.

“Any more feathers? How many feathers you ruffled already?”

There were questions worth answering… or, more accurately, someone he didn’t want to piss off by ignoring. He tilted his head in Trinity’s direction as he let the first shot coat his throat. It was a bit bitter, but seemed to mix well with that ever-present tingling from the smokes he had. "Cut into someone’s dance without realizing it." His words had a levity to them that hid his lingering annoyance at the scene that was caused. He quickly knocked back another shot, that same bitterness sliding down and warming his core. "The night’s still young… I have a habit of attracting the wrong crowd." He instinctively reached towards his ribs with his left hand, probing a scar through his thin shirt as he continued to flash a winning smile. His right hand plucked the last shot, this one different than the others, and held it up in Bax’s direction. He gave a small cheers, and drank.

“...or a Sit on My Face, Honey depending on where you're from, I guess...”

This wasn’t Nate’s first rodeo. He quickly turned his head over his left shoulder, spraying half the unswallowed contents out into the night air. If he was not choking and dying for air as his nostrils and lungs tried to heave in oxygen, he would have remarked on how much he loved someone who could make him laugh. Instead, small tears poured down his cheeks from the gasping laugh that had shocked him so. The only small blessing he had was that, despite his brain gripped with fear, he didn’t feel the burning sensation that would come with such a fit. He just needed a little time to recover.

Of course, another voice cut in. “Say please.”

He saw the sparkling dress again, the brunette staring right into his soul as she knocked back her own shot. If ever he needed motivation to gather himself, this was it. He wiped the tears with a quick swipe of his thumb, let out a couple last choking coughs, and slid on his best smile as he let his eyes wander over her body. He wasn’t trying to be subtle, and neither was she. "I will… later." He shot a quick look to the woman next to her, clocking fairly quickly that such a move would not be received particularly well. It was for the best, his ego was bruised enough. Nate turned back to face Bax, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward with a grin. "You’ve done me dirty, Baxter." He shook his head. "You’re lucky those were some of the best I’ve had" He figured that would satisfy Baxter’s question.

Nate spun back to face the party again, eyeing the dancefloor and tables to keep tabs on what kind of mischief had been going on. For the most part… things seemed to have settled a bit. His eyes did briefly glance towards Andy and Mason, a pang of indignation piercing his chest. His ankle still felt a little off… might have rolled it. It didn't feel like a sprain, but it was always hard to tell when pain was so muted. He might need to walk a little bit just to check… but despite the conversations around him droning into nothing more than background noise, he felt comfortable here. He slipped a hand into his back pocket, producing the pack yet again. He flipped open the lid, peering inside for a moment. He wasn’t sure why he had grabbed it… he didn’t exactly have a craving for one, and it didn’t feel like a habit. His fingertips ran along the remaining cigarettes, naturally gravitating to the only one flipped the wrong direction.

Most fathers wouldn’t smoke with their teenage sons, let alone encourage it. Maybe Nate’s dad knew something he didn’t. Lately, he began suspecting his father knew that lung cancer was not going to be the end of him. But his father had been insistent on one thing. In every pack you open, you always remove a cigarette, flip it around, and stuff it back in. The reason changed every time. Some days, it was to make sure you knew no one messed with your pack. Others, it was some old war tradition. On a rare occasion, Nate’s father insisted it was a good luck charm: so long as you had that Lucky in your pack, your luck would never run dry. Nate wasn’t sure if he ever believed any of those reasons, but he always kept one in the chamber just in case. He’d even fight the urge for a day or two if needed, waiting until he could buy a new pack before he ever dared smoke the Lucky.

Nate’s fingers slipped to another cigarette in his pack, bringing it up to his lips and lighting it with the same muscle memory usually reserved for riding a bike. As he took a drag, he watched the party move around him.

Meanwhile on the dance floor, Tapeesa waited expectantly for Leo’s response. "I will take your word for that, and I will probably be hanging out near the tables or near them maybe when you are done," he replied, leaving her pinky hanging in the wind. She felt a little rebuffed when he ignored her playful promise, but she quickly shook it off and let her hand fall back to her side with a smile. "I will see you later, Tapeesa, and have a good time dancing."

"Try to have fun," she replied with a small wave as he left.

A little wind had been let out of Tapeesa’s sails after that awkward interaction. She kept her ever present smile, but struggled to find the same weightlessness she had a few minutes before. She couldn't help but notice how barren the dance floor was as she looked around. It was just her and the other couple dancing, which honestly made her feel a bit like a sore thumb now that she was more aware of it. She had always thought parties had a lot of dancing, sure drinking, but also dancing. Although she was quickly realizing that maybe that was the Hollywood glamorized versions of parties rather than reality. Her fingers slipped through her hair trying to work the knots from it as she swayed around trying to find her groove again. Her eyes slowly shut as she split her hair into three sections and began entangling them into a braid with an effortless precision like it was second nature to her. When the plait nearly reached her navel, Tappi slipped a spare hair tie from her wrist and fastened it.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked around. She was thirsty and needed to find her second wave, but there was also a part of her that felt a little guilty at the thought of slipping off the dance floor for a quick drink, even if she had every intention of returning. If she had known that's what she was going to do, Tapeesa might have accepted Leo's offer. She debated it a second or two longer before accepting that she might look like a jerk and migrated toward the bar.

Tappi slid up to the counter beside another red head as he took a drag from a cigarette. She recognized him as the guy that took a spill on the dance floor awhile earlier. "Sorry about that," she commented, looking up at him while nodding her head toward the general dancing area. Her brows then furrowed and nose scrunched as she realized she was apologizing for something she didn't even do. "Well… Not that it was my fault, but you know…" She flashed him a sympathetic smile. "For what it's worth, I was going to help you up, but then you kinda zoomed." Her hands clapped together in some vague motion to symbolize ‘zooming.’

Nate had watched Tapeesa as she approached, his eyes following her movements. They traced along her patterned boots for a moment, admiring the craftsmanship. As she got closer, he offered a friendly smile. Her apology confused him. He looked back towards the dance floor, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had hoped no one saw, and felt even worse that she felt a need to apologize for it. "Sorry I ran off quick," he apologized, figuring it might help balance her unneeded apology. "I appreciate the thought, though." It was just his luck to miss the chance to get helped up by a pretty woman.

Her smile grew slightly before her attention shifted back to the bar, as she leaned forward against the counter and skimmed the various alcohols and liquors for a simple bottle of water. Tapeesa’s fingers strummed against the wooden surface as she turned her attention back to the man, desperately in need of assistance. "Is there no water?" she asked in a hushed, guilty tone as she tilted her head toward him subconsciously. She laughed softly, noting the irony of her looking for water in a sea of alcohol and drunks.

Nate smiled, tilting his head slightly as he thought for a moment. The kid a few feet away had asked for one. Baxter had plucked it from seemingly thin air… no, he had reached down for it. With a cigarette still dangling from his lips, Nate placed his palms on the bar behind him. In an effortless motion he was a little too familiar with, he hopped up onto the counter and leaned backwards. His legs hooked down, helping to keep him stable as he leaned back just enough to see a few bottles of water tucked under the back of the bar in rows. He reached a hand out to grab one, and then quickly crunched back up into a sitting position. He removed the cigarette from his mouth for a moment with his right hand, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air away from Tapeesa. With his left, he offered the bottle of water. "It's your lucky day."

Tapeesa’s eyes widened slightly as she watched him hop onto the bar with ease. Her gaze darted around a little confused before landing back on him. As he started to lean back her hands awkwardly hovered near his leg, preparing to—well, she wasn’t very strong so she wasn’t sure if ‘help’ was the correct word—try and keep him from falling. Thankfully they didn’t have to test how sturdy his skull was or how strong she was. He sat back up like it was nothing and held out the bottle to her. An amused laugh escaped her lips as she reached out to take the bottle from him. "Thanks." She smiled up at him with genuine gratitude and a lightness in her grin that made her cheeks dimple.

With a pleased sigh, she removed the cap and downed nearly half of the bottle. It seemed Tapeesa hadn’t realized how thirsty she actually was. Soda didn’t really cut it when it came to hydration. Her right thumb raised to wipe a drip of water from the corner of her mouth as she looked over at him. "I’m Tapeesa, by the way," she added in a friendly tone. She quickly wiped her hand against her jeans, removing the water that clung to her skin, then offered it to him.

Nate met her with his own soft smile, chuckling at just how thirsty she was. He did not hide his probing looks as he watched her, though his eyes mostly followed her single braid that hung over her shoulder. When she introduced herself, Nate responded quickly. "Nathaniel, but please call me Nate." As she reached a hand out, he quickly set his cigarette in a small holder in the ash tray next to him before shaking hers. His eyes briefly caught a glimpse of the tattoos on her hand, which piqued his interest. He reached out his other hand slowly, while turning hers in his palm. "That's some nice ink… mind if I get a closer look?" He paused his movements, his bright eyes glancing towards her face with an eager smile. He always enjoyed learning about the importance behind what people got etched into their skin. It was always a story.

Tappi began to slip her fingers from his grasp, but Nate’s growing interest gave her pause. "Thank you." She looked down at their hands as he turned hers over, studying the line work of her kakiniit. While her hand tattoos often garnered some amount of attention, like it did with Elias, but his eagerness caught her a little off guard. Her smile didn’t falter but shifted to reflect her own curiosity as she looked back up at him. A subtle flush crept to her cheeks as she set down her water. "Sure," she agreed, just as interested to study his curiosity as he was to study her.

Nate slowly reached out with his free hand to grab her other hand, bringing them a little closer to get a good look at the design. He was gentle and slow with his movements, but he studied the design carefully with a smile on his lips. It wasn't overly complex, just careful lines and dots. He turned over her hands and wrists to ensure he saw the extent of the design, before his brown eyes met hers. "They're pretty… your tattoos. And your hands." He hid his internal recoil at the latter statement. It wasn't even a move, just another thought he couldn't keep to himself. He cleared his throat quickly, letting go of Tapeesa's hands. "What's the story behind the design?"

While he examined her hands like he was appraising a piece of art, Tappi watched his face with a curious furrow to her brow. Her lips parted to thank him again before the second part of his compliment slipped out, erasing her thoughts and leaving her a little dumbfounded with her mouth agape. They both cleared their throats at the same time as he released her hands. An awkward laugh slipped out as she reached for her water and took another, more graceful sip. "Well, my hands," she held up her right hand and rotated it in the air slightly, "They’re genetic." Her grin grew bigger and brighter into something more playful and teasing, although the blush still clung to the apples of her cheeks.

Tapeesa laughed softly as she looked down at her right hand, fingers splayed out and wiggling slightly. "It’s my kakiniit. It’s a type of traditional hand poke tattoo that Inuit women get." She paused for a second, catching a loose strand of hair that slipped from her braid and tucked it behind her ear. "They’re usually very spiritual and personal." Her gaze traced the various lines and dots as she spoke. "This is the same kakiniit my mom had. I think she said it was some hunting amulet and ocean spirit… Something?" She shrugged her shoulders and chuckled as she finally met Nate’s gaze again. "I don’t remember. I was like seven when she told me. I just chose this because it keeps a piece of her with me." While there might have been a hint of sadness in her words, her smile never faded. Death and grief was never easy. But she refused to look back on her memories of her mom with anything but love. Her tattoos were just a way to keep her close and always on her mind.

"What about you?" Tappi asked with a slight tilt of her head. "Tattoos, not kakiniit," she clarified with a laugh. "You’re too ginger to be Inuit." She pinched the tip of her tongue between her teeth, smiling at her lighthearted goading.

Nate nodded softly, taking in the explanation with great interest. He reached down and plucked the cigarette, taking another drag as she spoke. Her playful ribbing brought a smile to his lips. "Damn, hair gave it away?" He faked shock, the corner of his lips upturned in delight.

He contemplated her question for a moment, tilting his head back and forth. She seemed happy and relaxed, and the last thing he wanted was to kill the vibe. But, she did ask, and it felt rude for the showcase to be only one way. His hands dipped down to the bottom hem of his shirt. With a slightly embarrassed smile he slowly began lifting it up. Nate was remarkably toned, years of vanity workouts leaving his stomach chiseled. He wasn't sure why this felt embarrassing, he'd shown more for a lot less reason. "It's not as elegant as kakiniit," he said, nodding towards her hands. His pronunciation wasn't perfect, and he slowed down the word to single syllables to try his best. He lifted the shirt up to his pectorals, revealing a small phrase tattooed in black ink just above his abs on his left-hand side. It was small, flowing script with just 4 words. Come fly with me. "My dad's favorite song… and mine too. It's my go to for karaoke." He felt awkward still holding the shirt up, but figured it was only fair she got a good look. "He's got a matching one… but we were drunk when we got it on my 21st, so not quite as sweet."

While Tappi had intended on immediately returning to the dance floor, she found herself leaning against the bar, lingering a little longer than intended. She laughed at his feigned shock, appreciating that he could take some light teasing. While she was more than capable of being serious, life was too short not to enjoy the smaller moments of joy and levity… Which, in her case, could mean a little harmless teasing.

She let her gaze drift for a second to pick up her water but froze in the process of bringing it to her lips when she noticed Nate lifting his shirt. Tapeesa’s face turned as red as the maraschino cherries that sat in a small dish on the bar. She did ask, but didn’t really consider the fact that his shirt didn’t have any sleeves and his arms were bare. Well that was dumb. She tried to push back her nerves with a breathy sip of water. Nate was very muscular, so naturally she fixed her gaze anywhere but his chest, which made it difficult to actually see what he was showing her. It wasn’t like she had never seen a shirtless man before but they were never that… close.

A genuine smile replaced her initial shock when Nate attempted to pronounce kakiniit correctly. "Kah-kih-neet," Tapeesa repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable with a reassuring nod of her head and gentle encouragement. It wasn’t often people humored random facts about her culture, let alone attempted to pronounce an Inuktitut word. She appreciated his attempt even if it was a bit sloppy.

For whatever reason the small act of reverence to her culture steeled a bit of her nerves. Tappi inhaled a sharp breath then let her gaze fall to his chest. Her hands slipped to her thighs as she leaned over slightly to read the quote. "I don’t think I have a go to karaoke song," she confessed with an awkward laugh, trying not to focus on how close she was. She slowly stood back upright and lightly patted her legs with a slight tilt of her head. "I still think it’s sweet." Her gaze drifted back up to meet his dark brown eyes, her smile growing slightly. "I actually got mine on my eighteenth birthday," she added, laughing at the slight similarity. "Not drunk though… Probably would have helped. It took forever."

Nate raised an eyebrow at her blushing, taking a moment to piece together she was just as embarrassed as he was. That being said, he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity for some light teasing. "What, you don't want to touch?" His tone remained light, but he did quickly drop his shirt to cover his abs for both their sakes. It was best not to push his luck further than that. He took in another breath, letting the numbing smoke fill his mouth as he let the cooling numbness flow out. He grabbed at the cigarette, holding out the butt in her direction as he raised an eyebrow. "Want one? I've got plenty."

Tapeesa actually snorted out a surprised laugh. "Ha. I actually try to keep my public groping to a minimum," she replied, shaking her head and rolling her eyes in disapproval… Even if her smile never once fell. A little chuckle to herself escaped her lips as she brought her bottle of water to her lips and finished what remained.

Her gaze fell to the offered cigarette with raised brows before looking back up into his eyes. Did she really look like the type of girl who smoked?... Ok, well, smoked that? Tapeesa leaned her left elbow against the bar and pointed at the small wisp of smoke that spiraled off of it. "That stuff tastes horrible," she replied with a guilty smile. "I only smoke weed." Tapeesa shrugged. "It’s medicinal, won’t kill me, and is way more fun." Her index finger poked his chest for emphasis. "You should consider switching."

Nate ran his tongue along his bottom row of teeth, looking down to the nearly finished cigarette. He stamped out the embers in the ash tray next to him. "Little harder to travel with." He let out a little laugh, turning to face her. "Unless you've got a stash you don't mind sharing, making the transition might be a challenge." He raised an eyebrow quizzically, before his eyes shifted back out towards the rest of the party. He thought he had seen her out there dancing earlier, and he hadn't quite had his fill yet. He just needed to be sure of one thing first. "You're not… there isn't some guy who's gonna kick my ass if I ask you to dance, is there? Made that mistake once tonight." He flashed a small smile, motioning towards the mostly empty dance floor. "Someone's gotta keep the party going, right?"

"Coming here was the first time I traveled. So I can’t really relate to that struggle." Her brows rose and head tilted slightly at his other comment. It hadn’t really crossed Tappi’s mind yet, but if she had a fully stocked greenhouse, the chances of marijuana being there was pretty high. She did use plants for medicinal purposes. It would only make sense. "However, I do have a greenhouse at my cabin. Haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, but…" She shrugged her shoulders with a curious, and maybe a little bit guilty, expression. "I am a healer and the Gods like to party… It’s probably a safe bet."

Tapeesa’s gaze followed his out toward the dance floor. She had honestly seen more life at a funeral. It wasn’t very surprising she lost some of her initial excitement about dancing when no one was actually joining in. She slowly looked back up into his eyes with a soft laugh and the ghost of a blush across her cheeks. "Can’t say there is. Only thing you’re in danger of is mediocre bordering on embarrassing dance moves." Her fingers strummed along the edge of the bar. "That’s what I’m best at," she whispered to him like it was almost a secret.

She pushed off of the counter and took a step backwards toward the dance floor. "That’s what I was trying to do before you distracted me." Tapeesa’s dimples returned as her lips curved into a teasing smile.

Nate cocked an eyebrow while he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. This woman was full of surprises, and he was more than happy to see what else she had in store. He rolled his neck around in a circle, making a show of stretching a little as he subconsciously began to follow her footsteps beat for beat. As much as he would love to see this greenhouse and see if her assumption was right, there was no chance he was going to let Tapeesa dance alone for a second longer. "Oh… I’m a distraction. I see," he teased, taking another step closer. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. "I guess I have no choice but to keep you focused." His tone dripped with levity, his hands stuffed into his front pockets. Without the threat of another confrontation, he was actually excited to do some dancing. There was just one thing.

"You don’t seem like the boring type." His observation was a bit blunt, an effort to be genuine instead of flirty. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, sizing her up. "Embarrassing moves I could see," he admitted, a grin forming on his face as an idea came to mind. "But I would wager you’ve got nothing on my worst moves." It was a simple, playful challenge. More of a hook, as he stepped past her, removing his hands from his pocket. He held both hands out in front of himself, as if he was holding some kind of bat. He lifted his hands up near his shoulder, and then shot them in a downward motion. The mime was only clear as he began circling his right fist around his left: he had cast an invisible fishing line in Tapeesa’s direction, and was trying to “reel” her in to follow him to the dance floor.

Tappi spared a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t going to bump into someone, but the path from the bar to the dance floor was wide open as most people seemed to give it a wide berth. "I do have trouble focusing. How kind of you to help me in my time of need," she jested. Her voice was laced with a playful sarcasm as she pressed her hands to her chest like he was her savior. "This is a very important mission." She pointed at the ground for emphasis, even stomping her foot a little. "And it’s kinda sucked, bouncing around by myself." While her last comment held the same lighthearted air, there was sincerity to her words. She was a little saddened that she had spent most of the night dancing with no company but her own. But now with Nate, things were looking up and she couldn’t stop smiling.

"Give it time," she laughed softly as she held his gaze. "Soon you’ll realize this is about it and be very disappointed." Tapeesa held out her arms slightly as if to say, yup that’s about it. Her hands lightly smacked her legs as her arms dropped back down to her sides. Her brows raised when he mentioned having the worst dance moves, stirring the little competitive monster that lived inside her. "That… Sounds like a challenge." She squinted her eyes and pointed at him. "Alrighty then, Nater-tot." She rubbed her hands together deviously like some cartoon villain from one of their childhood TV shows. "Time to put your money where your mouth is."

She lingered behind watching him as he walked past with giddy anticipation at seeing his terrible dancing. At first Tapeesa watched him curiously, not entirely sure what he was doing. But once Nate casted his imaginary fishing line toward her and started reeling in, she nearly doubled over burying her face in her hands. Her face turned bright red as she broke out in laughter. She peeked over at him between her fingers watching as he whipped out the corniest dance without any hesitation. When she stood back up her lips scrunched in that way where she was trying really hard not to smile and maybe was a little bashful.

Tapeesa rolled her eyes then slowly started hopping toward him on beat with the music. As she closed the distance between them her grin grew, tugging at the corner of her mouth until it was so big her eyes squinted and her dimples dipped in her cheeks. When she was within a few feet of Nate, she locked eyes with him before pinching her nose and puffing out her cheeks. She held up her other hand and wiggled her fingers, then started twisting her body as she lowered herself down to the ground and back up again. All the while a continuous soft laugh flowed from her.

It had been so, so long since he had laughed like that. He felt a surge of pride as she recognized his little competition, and the nickname was… unique. He bit his bottom lip and shook his head as she made clear her intention to accept the challenge. He felt his own cheeks get a little red as her smile grew when he danced. He couldn’t recall making anyone smile like that before. And when she attempted the scuba diver, Nate let out a short laugh that seemed to come deep from his core. Tapeesa cut through any lingering nerves or frustration over a very long year. For all his talk of living and having fun, he hadn’t quite let himself be this merry.

But… there was no reason he couldn’t be a little competitive. "If you want a wager so bad, Toppings," he said with a wicked, comical grin, "Let’s make a game of it. Whoever taps out, loses." He held both his hands out in front of him, as if his fists were enclosed around a horizontal handle at hip height. "And the loser owes the winner one favor." It was a bit juvenile, even he could admit that. But games always needed a reward, and he wasn’t about to ask a stranger to pony up cash for a cringey dance battle. He bowed down slightly, reaching out his right hand to grab onto an imaginary handle. With the base hits of the music, he made a show of cranking the arm back. The lawnmower was a dirty trick, but a classic move. He pretended to start up his lawnmower, and then proceeded to parade it around Tappi. He couldn’t stop grinning like an absolute idiot the whole while, eyebrows raised in challenge.

"Toppings?" She clapped her hands together softly, bringing them to her face as she laughed. Tappi had heard a lot of unique nicknames when it came to her name, but that one was definitely a first. Her eyes followed him as he mowed in a circle around her. She bit down her bottom lip trying to stifle her laughter, even hiding her mouth behind her hand. She was quickly realizing how many surprises Nate had up his sleeve. While she did totally turn their dancing into a competition right out the gate, an actual bet never crossed her mind. A ‘favor’ made her a little anxious about whatever it could be cashed in for, but she was also a good sport. And, for whatever reason, she trusted him not to be unkind when he cashed it if he won… Which he wouldn’t because there was no way she was going to lose to the lawnmower.

When Nate finished his lap and was back in front of her, Tapeesa held out her right hand toward him with an impish grin. "Deal." After sealing their bet in a handshake, she kept hold of his hand while she pressed her other palm to the back of her head. She then slowly slipped her fingers out of his grasp as her arms swung in and out in sync with the music, going into the sprinkler. Her face scrunched up, redness in her cheeks never fading as she twisted around like she was watering the lawn he just mowed.

Nate shook his head, mimicking a yawning motion as he watched her attempt the sprinkler. That one was far too easy, too predictable. "Oh… you’ll need to try harder than that." He chuckled a little at her sincerity. If she wanted to use a corny classic, he could too. He also didn’t mind the closer distance between the two. He held out his right arm with his palm face down, and then his left. He matched his movement to the pace as he then turned each palm with flare, then brought each one to his opposite shoulder. The macarena was a classic, and it worked well enough even with the sped up beat. His movements were fairly fluid, coming across as a little less stiff than he would have liked. It was hard not to just lose himself to the moment and go with the groove, even with a dance move older than he was. But as he finished the set, he hopped up and spun to stand perpendicular to her, clapping his hands and turning his gaze back to her.

Tapeesa rolled her eyes as she watched him shift into the macarena. A classic, truly, and coincidentally, one of her favorites. Her head nodded to keep the rhythm with him so the moment he jumped and spun she slid in right next to him. She stuck out her right hand and looked over at him in a silent challenge for him to go one more round, simply because she had to join in at least once. When it got to the part where her hands were on her waist instead of swaying she bumped her hip into his playfully with a contagious grin and laugh. Then there was the jump and spin, but when she landed her right hand pointed up into the air with her left hand on her hip. She pursed her lips as her index finger dipped to point down across her body then back up at the sky. While doing the old disco move she shimmied and rocked her shoulders adding her own little flare.

This elicited a proper laugh from Nate, who was more than happy to just truly let loose and dance. No teaching moves, no awkward small talk, just moving and grooving. At the same time… Nate was far too competitive for his own good, and he would do anything within the flimsy rules they had established to win. While she was finishing up her disco, Nate began to snap his fingers and sway his hips slightly as he got back on the beat himself. Once confident he had the rhythm down, he exaggerated the movements. His arms swung wildly back and forth, snapping to the beat, while he stepped back and forth as well. It wasn’t his best trick, but the Carlton was good enough to buy time and see what else Tapeesa had in store for him.

Tapeesa gasped and pressed her hand to her chest in a dramatic fashion. "How dare you judge my sprinkler, then whip out the Carlton!" She didn't know how many more moves she could pull out of her hat but there was one that she taught herself as a kid and she was confident enough to whip out. She scrunched her lips and squinted her eyes at Nate as she smoothly slid her right leg back. Then she did the same with her left, back and forth until she was doing the moonwalk. As she got into the rhythm she waved her arms up and down in front of her, just for fun. When she reached the edge of the dance area she turned around, making her way back toward him. Unfortunately it is also very hard to coordinate the moonwalk on grass. As she closed in on Nate her boot got stuck on a little lump of earth and she stumbled backwards into him with a gasp and embarrassed laugh.

Nate was quick to react, reaching his arms out and helping to cushion her stumble. Learning his lesson from the last time, he grabbed onto her shoulders, taking a step in to help use his body to prevent her from falling. "Easy there, Tapeesa… best leave moves like that for the professionals." He made sure she was back up and standing before he slid his own feet back, moonwalking a step and a half away. He needed to wrap things up, apparently for her own safety. Of course, the alcohol in his system also seemed to dull the more reasonable side of his brain. He knew a move that could leave her stunned.

Nate reached up to his shoulders, pulling his shirt clumsily over his back and head. Sweat glistened along his back. He was far too absorbed in the competition to feel the same surge of embarrassment as before. He held his shirt in his right hand, lifting it over his head and twirling it in a circle. His left hand extended out in front of him. In time with the beat, he galloped in place. Each gallop sent him a couple inches closer to Tapeesa, a wild smile on his face. A chuckle slipped out as he pranced his little pony move closer to her, his shirt swinging over his head like a lasso.

Of course, he needed to seal the deal. As he got closer, he swung his shirt in her direction, aiming towards her waist. As his twisted up shirt wrapped around her, he caught it with his other hand. Locked in close, Nate raised his eyebrows and shot Tapeesa a smirk. With booming satisfaction, he asked, "Do you yield?"

As if her nearly falling wasn't bad enough Nate had to rub it in with his own mini moonwalk. Tappi crossed her arms over her chest in a playful pout as she waited to see what he was up to next. However she was not prepared… at all. While halfway through their dancing she managed to get more comfortable and her cheeks returned to a normal color, the moment he pulled his shirt off her eyes widened and she flushed redder than before. She was caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment, watching from behind her hands. He started galloping and twirling his shirt overhead like he was a cowboy. With each gallop he got closer. At first she took a step back but he only continued to close the distance. She had no idea what to do or how to react and before she could plan her next move he was on her. In a swift move he hooked his shirt around her waist and trapped her close to him.

Tapeesa gasped softly and buried her face in her hands. Strawberry pink skin was visible beneath her fingers as her anxious laugh was muffled against her palms. He kept her close enough that no matter which way she moved some part of her bumped into some part of him. She slowly shifted her hands just enough so she could peer over her fingers up into his eyes. The warmth radiating from his body and the closeness of his bare chest made her flustered and struggle for words. She nodded her head, her bashful smile still hidden beneath her fingers. "You win," she reluctantly conceded.

The air had shifted slightly. He instinctively was breathing a little harder than usual, his body clearly upset with the strenuous motion after a tiring day. Nate's dancing partner was clearly beyond flustered, and he quickly pieced together he may have taken things a little too far too soon. He flung the shirt back up and over his shoulder, taking a step back to give Tapeesa some space. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his smile fading a little. "Sorry… got a little carried away," he admitted. It took him a moment to check his shirt and figure out which way to slide it back on. All the while, he spoke in a soft tone. "I haven't had fun like that in a long time. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Once he slid his tank top back over his head, he looked back into her eyes. He almost instinctively took another half step back, leaning back on his heels. "You were right, Toppings. We've both got some pretty bad moves." He let a small awkward smile tug at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't mind seeing more of them sometime."

Her chest heaved softly as she tried to catch her breath. Loose hairs that fell from her braid clung to the sweat that glistened along her brow and collarbones. There was a small pang that pinched in Tapeesa's chest when Nate's smile shifted slightly and he took a step back. Her own apologetic smile grew subconsciously like it was trying to make up the difference. "It’s ok," she reassured him. She looked over at him as he put back on his shirt, accidentally catching a glimpse of his chest before it disappeared beneath the fabric. Her hands reached up to grab the hem of her own top which had inched up from all the dancing and exposed a hint of her mid drift. "Although," she commented as her teasing tone slipped back into her words and she tugged her shirt back down. "That was cheating because I can't do that move." Ok, well she could but she wasn't going to rip her shirt off in the middle of a party.

When Nate looked like he was considering moving further away, Tapeesa subconsciously took a small half step forward. While she might have been caught off guard, she still had fun and didn't want him to leave. The corner of her lips curved upwards at the goofy nickname, teasing the return of the small dips in her cheeks. "I would like that," she admitted while looking over into his eyes. There was a soft sincerity to her words that almost felt a little out of place compared to their comfortable banter. "But," she continued with a little more levity in her voice. "If those are your bad moves, I’m a little scared to know what your good ones are," she teased as a soft laugh escaped from her lips.

Tapeesa looked around a little awkwardly, a blush creeping back to her cheeks as she realized the unwarranted attention they might have garnered and how they lingered on the dance floor standing still and out of breath. Her fingers tucked the hair that slipped from her braid behind her ears while her feet began slowly stepping side to side. She wasn't entirely sure why, but it felt wrong just standing there. It was like filling a silence in a conversation, but instead of words it was the subtle sway of her hips as she slipped back into the familiar dancing she had been doing before when she was alone. Tappi didn't expect Nate to stick around after their silly competition but there was a part of her that hoped he did.

Tapeesa's small steps towards him and reassurances made Nate's smile grow. He wasn't sure why, of all times, he now cared what someone thought of him. His heart drummed in his chest, definitely a byproduct of the dancing and nothing else stirring within him. When she mentioned cheating, Nate audibly gasped and raised a hand to his mouth in faux shock. "There was no rule against stripping as part of the game." Was it a bit of a dirty trick regardless? Perhaps. But he took a half step closer and did his best to whisper above the music. "You definitely could have pulled the same move, and I guarantee you would have won." He let out a little laugh at that, a gut reaction to diffuse the own internal tension that came from the statement. He didn't want to think about Tapeesa without a shirt too long, it didn't seem fair to her. His eyes shifted briefly to other party goers lingering near the bar, seeming to just now realize again they were in public. He spoke his next thought as soon as it came to mind. "I prefer that kind of dancing in private." He shook his head a little at the thought.

As Tapeesa began to get back into her own groove, so did Nate. He matched the swaying of her hips, letting his arms hang loosely at his side. There was something in her later words that made his chest feel tight. The teasing was absent in her admission of liking the idea of doing something like this again. If he was honest with himself, he'd probably enjoy watching her do anything. He swayed near her, letting the music guide his movements as the two began to get a little more into dancing proper. But before he let himself get fully lost in the beat, there was something she had said earlier that still nagged at the back of his mind. "For the record… I'm not disappointed. I think all of this," he motioned vaguely towards her, that bright smile of his still wide and toothy. "It's more than enough, Tapeesa."

Her eyes narrowed as he feigned offense while pointing out the loophole. Sneaky little... Before she could think of some sarcastic response, Nate stepped closer, catching her gaze with his. His words, however, caught her by surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. A judgy, but still lighthearted scoff could be heard over the music as she rolled her eyes. Yeah, there was no way that was happening, especially in front of everyone at camp… Or alone, most likely. She wasn’t that type of girl, even if the comment made her blush a little for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure. "You play dirty." Tappi waved her index finger at him all the while never losing her smile. "I’ll remember that," she warned him with an accusatory glance and a poke to his chest. She clocked his comment about dancing in private. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was an innuendo or he was just embarrassed about his good dancing, but she feigned ignorance rather than ask.

There was a faint bit of tension that Tapeesa didn’t realize she was holding onto until Nate began swaying more normally in sync with her. A tightness in her chest like she was holding her breath and waiting to see if he was going to stay released, and her shoulders relaxed. As they fell back into a rhythm her light, carefree air slowly returned. She was nearly loosened up enough to go into one of her goofy little spins when his voice cut through the music. Her gaze flicked to his beaming, authentic smile then up to his dark brown eyes. The comment threw her off her rhythm. She stumbled slightly as the warmth crept back up to her cheeks and her heart started beating a lot heavier in her chest. Was it always doing that? She couldn’t fight the sheepish grin that tugged at her lips at the sight of his own infectious smile and his jarring compliment.

Tapeesa leaned in slightly like she was sharing a secret, but averted her eyes because… She didn’t know if her heart could handle all of that. "I actually have no idea how to respond to that," she confessed, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. When she finally looked back over at him an anxious, but flattered laugh fell from beneath her bashful smile.

"We can just dance, then." Nate's suggestion was simple, his smile widening with her look back at him. It was what they came out here to do, and he didn't want to distract her any further from the task at hand. So, he let the music guide his movements as he stayed within Tapeesa's orbit.

^{interactions ....|.... baxter, trinity, blair & leo ............... mentions ....|.... marlen, anissa, andy & mason ............... collabs ....|.... @webboysurf}

Descendants

^{#a8f9ff ....|..... prism ....|..... outfit .....|..... descendant tower ......................................... #00aeef ....|..... outfit .....|..... descendant tower ..............}

If she focused, Imogen could still hear the faint whispers of minds overlapping back within the tower. While there was a part of her that had grown used to hearing the thoughts of others, there were also times she just wanted… peace. The past couple weeks with her father missing, the meeting, Jim, Luke… Magni. It was a lot. She could feel the tension that had taken up residence along her shoulders and into her neck. The cacophony of angry, confused, and grieving minds all in one place gave her the constant low thrum of an ever present headache. The cool water and temporary, quiet solitude helped, but it wasn’t until she flipped the switch, silencing the waves of thoughts for the more serene waves of the ocean that Imogen sighed and let herself unwind.

Her hands slipped beneath the damp hair that clung to her back. Fingertips pressed into the tight muscles that curved between her neck and shoulders. Imogen closed her eyes and slowly rolled her head. Between the pops that released down her spine, the soft groans of relief, and the tide crashing on the rocky shore, the Lord of Thunder actually managed to sneak up on her. It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized she was no longer alone. "Thou should see the glistening coast of Alfheim." Her heart fluttered at the deep, but calm resonance of his voice. "The waters reflect a prismatic hue that mesmerizes any soul who dares to gaze upon its beauty." A faint, sincere smile tugged at the corner of her lips. While her invitation was open to whomever was interested, it was really directed to him… Even if she was in partial denial.

While he described the waters from a foreign realm, Imogen found herself staring out at the ocean trying to visualize the image he painted. Her hands relaxed against the back of her neck as her gaze shifted over to him. "Sounds lovely." Her voice was soft and quiet, there were no underlying hints of flirtation or her usual tenacity. Just the gentle interest and curiosity at the thought of exploring a different realm.

Magni began undressing and while she tried to resist, Imogen couldn’t fight her wandering gaze. He struggled within the confines of his tight t-shirt. Seams snapped and threads popped as he pulled the fabric over his head. His stubborn attempt to disrobe made a soft chuckle escape her lips. For a brief moment she considered climbing out and helping, but luckily he managed on his own before they encountered the sexual tension of her taking off his clothes. She was trying to be good. Although it was difficult refraining from watching him… Even harder not to let her mind reach out into his and catch a glimpse of what he was thinking.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected, but hearing how Magni wanted her to watch him undress made her flush. Imogen felt like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Part of her wanted to avert her gaze and focus on anything else. But he wanted her to look… So why shouldn’t she? It would be rude not to… right? Her right hand slipped from the back of her neck to grab her drink. She pressed the cool brim of the glass to her bottom lip, but didn't take a sip, instead drinking in Magni’s form as his hands quickly unbuttoned his jeans. He removed his clothes with a hasty fervor. She had the fleeting thought to tell him to slow down, but quickly drowned it with her liquor. Behave yourself.

Surprisingly, beneath the jeans, Magni wore tights. For whatever reason Imogen expected the most generic white underwear or… nothing. But tights? Hmm. Her head tilted to the side slightly as she studied what lied beneath the tight fabric: chiseled legs, firm muscles, a small but pleasant posterior, and… She swallowed a forming lump in her throat as heat flooded from her chest up to her cheeks. That was when she averted her gaze for a second. She grabbed the toothpick garnish that rested across her glass and slid one of the cherries free with her teeth. Imogen looked back at him when she heard the thunk of his discarded boots. While there were copious parts of him to ogle, what actually caught her attention was his back: the way his broad shoulders tapered to his strong waist, the contours of his muscles, the valley along his spine, and the two dimples in his hips that peeked out above the waistband of his tights.

Her mind drifted to the thought of her nails digging into his back, her legs around his waist, his lips on her…

Nope. No.

Imogen set down her drink and immediately submerged herself beneath the water. As she surfaced, she tilted her head back to keep her hair out of the way and slick. She ran her hands over her face and back through her hair with a sigh. At least she was in cool water and a cooler breeze. It might have chilled her slightly, but it also helped alleviate a fraction of the redness in her face.

With the pitcher of beer in hand, Magni approached the edge of the pool where she stood. "May I join thee?"

She contemplated a sarcastic or detached answer. It’s a free world. I invited you, didn’t I? But Imogen decided to put her attitude away for the evening. While he might have had thoughts about wanting her to watch him undress, and she obliged, he entered her space with a peaceful sincerity. She was there to destress. It was exhausting always being on her A game around others. And… maybe there was a part of her that wanted to be less guarded… softer around him. She craned her neck to look up at him, her breath seizing in her chest for a second as he towered over her. "I would like that," she finally replied with a subtle smile.

Magni lowered himself slowly into a sitting position at the pool's edge, being very careful not to spill his beverage. His eyes remained fixed on Imogen, a small grin on his face whenever he looked her way. He was trying to be good in his own way, only sneaking small glances at her chest while mostly focusing on her drenched hair and piercing blue eyes. He set down his pitcher near her drink's resting spot, a calculated move to remain close to her. When he was confident in his drink's stability, Magni placed both hands on the concrete edge and shoved himself out into the water. A splash rippled the calm waters, and Magni still towered with less than half his body submerged in the pool. What little clothing he still wore grew heavy as it was submerged, and clung to Magni's skin even further. Doubly unfortunate, it meant that the water line laid just below his waist.

He seemed entirely unaware of this. His eyes had settled on Imogen's back. "Are thy muscles weary?" His question was simple, and direct. He had seen her attempting to massage and soothe her aches as he was changing. His instinct was to extend an offer, but he hesitated. Invitations like that were usually a pre-text, in his experience. And while that was certainly a desired outcome, her statements before had made clear that she clearly did not desire that. So, he let the question dangle awkwardly, as he reached for his drink again.

Imogen was caught a little off guard by the question. She had been so zoned out and lost in her own thoughts that she only half noticed she did anything. "It’s… been a long couple weeks, with my dad…" Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell to her hands that rested on the side of the pool. She shrugged her shoulders slightly, while it was a simple motion, the tension was more glaring after having it brought to her attention. "I’ve been under a lot of stress. And my brother doesn’t help," she laughed softly, a glimpse of her internal exhaustion visible behind her eyes. "I guess it’s taking its toll," she confessed, meeting his gaze.

A pang of guilt clouded his mind for a moment. It was short lived. "May I offer my aid?" He set back down his pitcher, already emptied by a third. He raised his hands, making clear his intentions as he waded in a little closer. "The body and the mind are but one being. Whereupon one fails, the other suffers. When one is soothed, the other heals." His mother's teachings were often far more beneficial than his father's when it came to helping others. Soreness to Thor was a sign of weakness, but Imogen seemed hardly weak. Magni saw soreness as a sign of work and a heavy burden. He wasn't good at many things, but carrying great weight was something at which he excelled.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze falling to his large, calloused hands and then back to his eyes. Imogen might have expected an ulterior motive, but even his thoughts showed his pure and kind intent. Imogen’s stomach did a small flip at the thought of his hands on her. She should have said no… Suffered in silence. But her head nodded of its own volition. Imogen blinked as if she were trying to clear a fog from her vision while she slowly turned her back to him. Her focus was trained on steadying her hand so it didn’t tremble as she reached up to sweep her hair over her shoulder, exposing the bare skin of her back and neck. "... Thank you," she said quietly, nearly inaudible above the rippling water between them and the constant rolling of the ocean.

Magni nodded, wading through the water with careful steps to position his body behind her. He left a few inches between them, enough that he could see her back as he worked. His calloused hands were surprisingly gentle at first, his fingers probing and tracing her muscle groups as he felt for knots and tension. "’Twould be dishonorable to deny thee alleviation." He pressed in harder now, beginning with Imogen's shoulders as his fingers plied against her soft skin along her traps first. He carefully rubbed along her muscles upwards, from the fringe of her corset up to her shoulders. He pressed in harder where he had detected soreness and tension, and continued a little harder each time as he worked. It was clearly not his first time, and certainly would not be his last. "Alert me if my strength harms thee."

His touch was a lot softer than what she would have imagined. The heat from his palms radiated through her skin and soothed her stiff muscles. As he began pressing a bit hard, finding the tender knots that caused her tension, Imogen’s hands reached out to brace herself against the wall of the pool. The one downside of massages, of proper massages, was they were never as relaxing or sensual as the movies made it seem. If she actually wanted any sort of relief, it was going to be uncomfortable. "It’s ok," she reassured him, looking over her shoulder up at him briefly. "Just sore."

Imogen’s gaze slowly drifted back to the ocean. Her attention was fixated on the glistening ripples of the tide, watching as they were slowly snuffed one by one as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. It brought to mind his comment about Alfheim and made her wonder about other far off places that felt more like fairytales than reality. "What’s it like?" she asked, wincing as his thumb worked a particularly tender spot between her shoulderblades. "The other realms?" she clarified. "I’ve never even been off world, let alone to another realm."

The question was jarring, but not altogether unexpected. Magni’s hands stopped for a moment, but he sensed genuine curiosity in her words. It made sense, he too dreamed of the far off realms in his youth. He would satisfy any craving she had. So, his hands continued to work as he spoke. "Each of the ten realms bears its own beauty. The mountains of Nidavellir climb toward the sky like slender fingers outstretched to touch the stars. I have seen some so vast and high that a lifetime of climbing may not be enough to even spot their shining peaks. The stench of Musphelheim is hard to bear, but to gaze upon the steaming flows of molten Earth is to behold the might of the land to form itself anew in an instant" He spoke with great gravity, his booming voice filled with cheer and levity. Every word seemed to come out faster than the last, as his hands too moved a little quicker along Imogen’s back. He moved higher now with his hands, ending each forceful stroke by pinching between her shoulders to ease out even more tension from her muscles. "And then, Alfheim… a beautiful land, truly. There lay verdant villages grown into the very roots of towering firs, with walls and houses crafted with woven fibers and vines."

But as Magni thought yet again of Alfheim, his mind naturally shifted to bodies. Burning trees, fires, the sound of glass shattering against wood. High pitched, unearthly rattles of death. And among it all, a man with golden locks desperately smashing fruitlessly against figures of shadow and mist. Blood dripped from his hands, his arms, his chest. His hair was matted with dirt and grime. Rage boiled within him, unyielding. In the moment, with Imogen, his hands stopped and held her shoulders. "There is pain there, too. War and death. Needless loss." He shifted his weight slightly closer, his hands sliding around Imogen’s front so his arms lay across the top of her shoulders. His chest pressed against her back. He tried to quell the pain, stuffing it deep down into his stomach where it would fuel him later. He needed happier thoughts. He thought of home.

"The realms do not compare to Midgard, nor Asgard." He smiled softly, ending the light hug on Imogen as he came to his senses. He dropped his arms back into the pool, and he took a step back in the water to give some small space. "Company, drink, safety… and a warm place to lay thy head. There is no greater place than one’s home."

Imogen closed her eyes as Magni described the various realms that branched from the world tree. She let his thoughts bleed into hers, seeing the images through his mind’s eye, watching the visions play across his memories as his words painted a poetic canvas of distant realms far from her grasp. A smile crossed her lips. She felt like she was there, walking in his footsteps, feeling the earth beneath her fingertips, and inhaling the scents on the wind. Then the images shifted like a shadow clouded his mind, turning his memories from day to night. She saw fire, blood, and death beyond measure.

Magni’s arms wrapping around her pulled her out of the nightmare. Her eyes snapped open, visions of war replaced with the darkening evening sky and the twinkle of patio lights. Under other circumstances Imogen would have been flustered as he held her close. She felt the firm muscles of his chest contrasted against the soft skin of her back. But her stomach didn’t flip, nor did her cheeks flush. Her heart quickened, not from nerves, but concern. She slowly reached up and rested her hands gently against his while her chin dipped to lightly press against his forearm. She gave him comfort in the only way she knew how, silent understanding without questions and the reassurance of a sympathetic touch.

When he pulled away the spaces he once filled grew cold in the absence of his body heat. Imogen’s hands lingered in the air, frozen for a second as if his arms remained before slowly falling back into the water. Imogen slowly turned around to face him. Concern furrowed her brow as she searched his face, but whatever darkness was there had been replaced with a soft smile. There was a part of her that wanted to ask, but it wasn’t her place or the right time. Instead she tried her best to move past it, letting her own smile slowly return.

"I like the way you describe things," she admitted. Then a blush did find its way back to her cheeks as she averted her gaze toward the ocean. "I’m a little biased towards earth myself, not that I’ve been anywhere else," Imogen confessed with a soft laugh. "Although it would be exciting to travel to places I couldn’t even think up in my dreams… Far off realms, distant planets, other worlds. It’s a big universe out there. It’s almost cruel that most people never get to experience it."

Imogen reached out to grab her drink, pinning the toothpick of garnish against the glass’s brim as she brought it to her lips. "Aside from the warring ones," she added, briefly looking over at him. "I wouldn’t be much help there," she concluded with a weak laugh before finishing what remained of her drink. The thought of her fighting in a war was almost comical. The only fights she had ever been in were during training… In simulations. She didn’t know the first thing about being a hero or warrior. She came to the academy for her father, to try and help, but she was little more than a glorified party trick compared to the others that filled the tower.

Magni nodded his head, a bellowing laugh erupting from his lips. "No… no, the warring realms are not worthy of thy presence." His mind had flitted briefly to the frozen, barren wastes of Jotunheim, and the towering warriors he had faced down. While white looked good on Imogen, those frigid peaks were not fit for travellers. His mind did turn briefly to Asgard… that was a realm that fit her. The city that pierced the heavens, resting above the clouds in the top branches of Yggdrasil. Her hair would shine as the wolves chased each other overhead. She had a glowing radiance to her that would entrance many back home. The thought of their gaping maws at her beauty was a bit upsetting, though Magni could not quite place why. Especially when he was guilty of the same.

Her weak laugh did not escape his notice, however. She seemed uncertain of conflict, or perhaps her role in it. He smiled a little, stepping closer yet again and reaching past her for his beverage. "The realms are full of warriors, for violence is easy." He grabbed the pitcher, lifting it up and motioning out towards the tower with it. "The realms have need of dreamers, and those who enjoy the finer parts of living." He sipped at his beer, reflecting on the statement. It felt correct, but he was not a dreamer. He was a warrior. He had been born a warrior, and he would die a warrior. It was his lot, his burden. Did he even have dreams anymore, or just burdens? Dour thoughts, unbefitting of fine company.

"I could take thee," he offered, "to more peaceful realms. Or to distant stars, if thou preferred. Anywhere thy heart desired, once our grave cause is concluded." The last part was spoken with a certainty so resolute even he believed it. He knew they would find their parents, that this would be another story and tale told around the fire.

Imogen set down her empty glass on the edge of the pool. She plucked the garnish from it and slipped one of the cherries from the toothpick with her teeth. She chewed it pensively while his words and thoughts lingered in her mind. Was that really all he saw in himself? A warrior? Her smile faltered slightly. "I think there’s more to you than just a warrior." Her words slipped out, accidentally commenting on his thoughts rather than pretending she hadn’t heard them. A subtle redness flooded her cheeks as an apologetic smile crossed her face. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be listening."

She rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand, shifting their conversation back to his generous offer rather than her accidental slip into his mind. "That would be nice. I’d like to see Asgard." Imogen’s smile grew as she held out the toothpick pinched between her fingers, offering him the last cherry. "Maybe not the smelly realm though," she added with a soft genuine laugh. While visiting any of the realms would be an experience to cherish for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t argue about skipping the stinky one or the one bothered Magni. If they traveled together it’d be for leisure, not digging skeletons out of his closet.

Magni could not help but smile at her laugh, his eyes shifting to the cherry. He lowered his mouth to her fingers, cracked lips lingering against her skin as he took his time to bite into it. He smiled as he pulled it from her grasp, biting into it as he set his drink down behind her again. His brow had furrowed slightly at her comment on listening, playing back their conversation and words. Had he said he saw himself as only a warrior, or did he only think it? It took him a moment of silent chewing to realize what she was speaking about. She was a telepath. Magni let out a small chuckle, shaking his head so that his wet locks bobbed across his shoulders. "Worry not… I do not intend to keep secrets from thee. Thou can spy upon my thoughts whenever thou pleases." His eyes drifted down Imogen’s neck, his eyes naturally following the contours of her body until they fell upon her bustier. It flattered her quite well, and his mind briefly tried to understand how exactly he could pry it off of her. As soon as that thought had entered his mind, his eyes widened. "At thy peril," he added. But he did not blush. She had asked him to think of her in compromising positions earlier. What harm was one more?

Her eyes remained fixed on him as he didn’t take the toothpick from her hand, but lowered his head to steal the cherry with his mouth. She swallowed as his lips grazed the tips of her fingers. Her core grew warm and tingled at the simple act. Imogen couldn’t tell if she was flushing or hot, maybe both? Her heart fluttered deceptively in her chest making it hard for her to focus on anything but his mouth as he chewed in thought. Her right hand rubbed her neck but not from soreness. She was flustered and struggling to know what to do with her thoughts… and hands.

"I guess we should be thankful you can’t see into my mind," she replied with a smile that was a bit more mischievous than before. "That would be dangerous." Her gaze drifted over to her empty glass and his nearly empty pitcher. She could use a refill… And maybe a temporary reprieve from Magni’s palpable sexual aura. It was having a stronger effect on Imogen than she cared to admit.

"How about a refill?" She offered, turning her attention back to him with a slightly more innocent smile. Imogen moved towards the side of the pool and prepared to jump out. But a definitely not smart and dangerous thought crossed her mind, and she was acting before she fully caught what she was doing. She turned around to face him and held out her arms. "Give me a lift?"

Why would reading her mind be dangerous? Her mischievous grin had somehow evaded him for the moment, despite her clear response to his own thoughts. But as she offered up a refill, Magni gave a nod. He grabbed his pitcher to drain the last drops, setting it down while wiping his lips with his fingers. At the request for a lift, he did not hesitate. His hands dipped into the water, reaching out to her hips. His thumbs pressed just below her stomach, his hands holding tight the soft flesh of her sides. He stood close, inches away from pressing his own body to hers. The feeling of her skin, even in the water, on his fingertips felt just as electric as in the lobby. It took him hardly any effort to quickly lift Imogen out of the water, guiding her up and onto the edge of the pool. As her legs folded up, he could only get a glimpse of the white fabric carefully tucked between her thighs. They were practically transparent. He wanted a closer look, but was far too polite to ask for one. She did not want to be a conquest. He could behave. He looked up to her, smiling softly. "I will drink whatever is fetched for me." She certainly knew of the phantom of the bar, and he was curious to see what she would bring him.

Imogen was very aware that Magni was strong, but the ease at which he lifted her elicited a soft chuckle. It was hard to ignore his wandering thoughts about her underwear as she lifted her feet from the water and stood up. There might have been a time, once, where she would have thought his thoughts were crass. But now? There was a part of her that wanted to indulge his curiosity, even if she knew she shouldn’t. It seemed like logic was on a hiatus that night as well, not just her. As Imogen crouched down to pick up her empty glass and his pitcher, she moved in just the right way to give him the briefest of glimpses. She locked eyes with him for a second or two, then stood up and made her way inside and toward the bar.

The eye contact solidified it: she was taunting him. She had to be. Magni dipped down lower into the pool, his thoughts overwhelmed with a sudden wave of desire that rushed through him. He had half a mind to ignore Midgardian decency. But instead, he simmered and steamed in the calm waters as he watched every agonizing step of Imogen’s departure. Each step did solidify one thing in his mind. He would cherish her… every single inch of her.

^{interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... jim & luke ............... collabs ....|.... @webboysurf}

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#0bbdaf ....|..... outfit .....|..... party}

"Hello Tapeesa," with a friendly smile as he shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, and about dancing…" He paused like he was lost in thought or trying to find the words. Tapeesa’s rhythmic swaying and bouncing slowed slightly as she waited for him to continue, but she never fully stopped dancing.

"I can dance with you if you want," Leo finally continued. "It may not be the best, but I can dance." There was some confidence in his words and while it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than her, her smile still grew slightly at the effort.

"Dancing isn’t about being good," Tappi admitted as she did a silly finger gun type dance move. "As long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters." She smiled and did a little spin. "I used to care about what people thought about me… Then I stopped." Her bottom lip stuck out in a false pout as she shrugged. "It’s kinda freeing."

"I was more seeing if you wanted company or not since you were dancing by yourself." He smiled. "If you want company, then you have it, and if you want to keep dancing, then I will as well. Or we can do something else if you want?"

That was a lot of pressure on Tapeesa’s shoulders. Her movements slowed as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She always liked company and making new friends. It wasn’t like she left Elias and Anissa because she wasn’t having fun, dancing just sounded like more fun. Leo seemed like a nice guy but she also couldn’t help but feel it was a little odd to approach her on the dance floor without assuming she preferred to dance. Because she did.

Her finger hooked around a piece of hair that clung to her lips and pulled it away as she tried to figure out a response. "I’ve been really enjoying dancing," she confessed with an apologetic smile. "But I understand and respect that it’s not your thing. It’s not for everyone." Her index finger hooked around her choker, twisting it so the clasp rested at the back of her neck, and out of an anxious habit to keep her hands busy. "I can’t force you to do something you don’t want to," she admitted with a slight tilt of her head.

The song shifted to something more upbeat. Whether intentional or not, Tapeesa’s bouncing resumed and her head bobbed subconsciously with the beat. "I’ll make you deal." She spun around again then held out her pinky toward him like they were eight years old on a playground about to make a life altering pact, sealed with a pinky promise. "You’ll be the first person I find when I get tired of dancing." Her nose scrunched playfully as she wiggled her finger at him. "Then we’re both happy." Her smile grew, lighting up her entire face.

^{interactions ....|.... leo ............... mentions ....|.... anissa & elias ............... collabs ....|.... none}

Descendants

^{#cb6b06 ....|..... #d13b00 ....|..... ghost rider ....|..... outfit .....|..... his penthouse}

James was in no hurry to get up and rush for the apartment kiosk thing. He wasn’t picky when it came to a place to sleep. Anything was better than roach motels or leaning against his motorcycle in the desert. The others could fight over which one was aesthetically up to their standards and bullshit. He was tempted to sink back into the warm, soft hug of the leather cushions but a nudge from Aria jarred him from his sleepy haze. He yawned, watching her hop to her feet like her little power nap was ten hours of sleep.

"I’m going to pick a…house…thingy. Then I’m going to sleep for fifteen hours, see you in the morning Judge, James."

"Hmm?" He forced his half lidded eyes open enough to look up at her. "Yep. Ditto."

There was a strong possibility he wasn’t going to be able to pull himself up from the couch. The cushions felt like they were swallowing him and who was he to deny comfort? But as the weight of sleep hung from his eyelids like cinderblocks, the spirit shifted restlessly in the back of his mind, snapping his eyes open. An unknown blonde who was not present during the meeting strolled out of an elevator into the lobby. James watched her as she introduced herself as a former cat burglar. That must have been it. He eased back into his seat slightly, but his gaze remained trained on her.

That one carries a lot of guilt, the spirit whispered in his ear, tentatively observing through his eyes.

James moved his elbow to the armrest, resting his chin along the curve of his thumb, masking his mouth behind a half closed fist. "That doesn’t mean anything," he whispered into his hand, low enough for no one to hear. He might have told them he was possessed, but that didn’t prepare people for when he started talking to himself. Plus, he didn’t want to set off any alarms… Not yet anyway.

When is the last time you felt guilty for doing something good?

He didn’t say anything in response. The spirit wasn’t wrong but he didn’t like the implication either. So far everyone there had seemed decent and ticked the boxes. Even the overly tatted son of Magneto didn’t trigger any alarms. If Aria and Tobias didn’t stir the spirit, then why did she? Unfortunately James was not Imogen, so he couldn’t read her mind to try and find out. But if he was a betting man, he’d think Theo had something to do with it based on the pure rage that radiated from him.

Once he was out the door after Myla, the woman—Ronnie—set her sights on Aria. James adjusted in his seat as he watched her and another blonde close in around her like vultures, picking at her like fresh prey. He grew uncomfortable watching but also had a strong urge to step in and push the other women away. He barely knew Aria and she wasn’t his to protect, but he still had the urge nonetheless. He rubbed the back of his neck and bounced his leg trying to distract himself. Occasionally he spared them a glance, but once he saw a triangle of shared kisses, he inhaled sharply and resolved not to look back.

"Yep, alright," he muttered to himself as he slapped his thighs softly and prepared to stand.

James barely got to his feet when Aria was back in front of him, but only to grab her things. She was grinning from ear to ear and gave him two thumbs up before throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Change of plans, see you in the morning boys."

While she looked like a kid about to raid a candy store, James’s face contorted somewhere between confusion and slight concern. He took a step toward her, reaching for her arm. "Aria—" She slipped out of reach, giddy with the prospect of whatever sapphic daydreams she was about to fulfill in her penthouse.

Looks like you missed your shot, Jamesie, the spirit taunted him in the back of his mind like the weird tingle from a fever dream.

"It’s not like—" James sighed and rolled his eyes out of frustration. "—Shut up," he grumped as he weaved through the group of people to head outside. He could worry about picking his penthouse later. Maybe by the time he got his bike into the garage it’d be a lot less crowded.

James didn’t bother putting on his helmet, instead tucking it under one of his arms as he straddled his bike. He turned it on, revved it once, then followed the signs into the garage. The corners of his lips turn downward into that weird expression of being moderately impressed when the door automatically opened. As he slowly rolled inside he noticed one of the blondes that was, presumably, about to make her way up to Aria’s penthouse. The spirit stirred and at that point James couldn’t tell if it was something serious or his own paranoia. Rather than humor it, he shook his head and focused on parking in an empty spot next to a white EV Porsche.

After cutting the engine and flipping down the kickstand, James intentionally took his time getting his shit together. He didn’t really want to ride the elevator with the woman, so he did whatever he could to outlast her in the garage. He left his helmet on the seat and crouched down beside the saddlebag off the side of his bike. It only took him unbuckling a couple straps then the bag slipped free from the motorcycle’s frame. He refastened them, creating a makeshift backpack and stood back up. By the time he adjusted the bag on his back the blonde was gone and he could stop stalling… Thankfully.

When made his way back to the lobby, James was relieved to find that it was empty. He made his way over to the apartment catalogue and tapped the screen to illuminate it. He skimmed through the various layouts and styles pretty quickly, noting how even the more basic penthouses looked nicer than anywhere he’s ever slept in his life. He felt like there had to be some kind of catch… Getting a place like that for free? Well… there was a catch. Superhero bullshit that would likely get him killed. But how was that any different from what he was doing before?

Eventually he settled on some industrial looking apartment that was a little dark and moody, with a motorcycle chilling in the living room. James couldn’t help but wonder what superhero used to call that place theirs, who they were… And if they were single. An exhausted chuckle escaped his lips as he wandered back over to the elevator. He must have really been tired. He never got delusional enough to even joke about dating unless hadn’t slept in over two days, skipped at least four meals, or lost more blood than he cared to count. It had been awhile since his shit got wrecked in a fight without the spirit popping in and he ate that morning, so it was definitely exhaustion.

Luckily, his penthouse was on one of the lower floors, so he didn’t have to ride the elevator for too long. Although, honestly, that shit moved fast enough it could have been a rocket. Fucking Stark tech. James exited the lift into the foyer-like space of his apartment and whistled. Somehow it looked nicer than the pictures. But he could explore it… later. He bee-lined for the spiral staircase and climbed it to the interior balcony.

As he made his way down the long catwalk hallway, he noticed the bed on the other end. His legs buckled at the sight and the wave of exhaustion slammed into him like a tsunami. James dropped his bag where he stood and kicked off a boot with each step. He barely managed to peel off his leather jacket before collapsing onto the mattress. He was laying diagonal and the wrong way, but not two minutes after he sank into the plush comfort he was out cold.

^{interactions ....|.... zaria ............... mentions ....|.... ronnie, theo, myla & jules............... collabs ....|.... none}

Descendants

^{#a8f9ff ....|..... prism ....|..... outfit .....|..... pool}

Imogen wasn’t going to argue when June suggested wrapping up the meeting. For all intents and purposes, she thought it all went rather well. No one was running for the door and the only tensions came from a lack of knowing each other and her brother’s big mouth… again. It could have gone a little smoother, but all in all that was far more productive and positive than she might have guessed. And no attacks, not yet at least.

Her gaze drifted over to Luke as she lingered near the hallway. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how different he looked. It was like a completely different man. Imogen was thankful for his presence knowing him to be as steadfast and loyal like June or Magni, but there was also a sad sort of guilt that nagged at the back of her thoughts. Having matured and gotten at least a little smarter, she knew she never should have dated him. He was kind and affectionate but she never loved him. She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what led to their break up in the first place. There were a lot of unanswered questions and apologies he was owed, she knew that. But it’d have to wait until another day. She was mentally exhausted and all she wanted to do was find a way to relax and ease her tensions.

The ding of the elevator stunned her back to reality like a shot in the back. Imogen’s head snapped around as a blonde sauntered out of the lift while blowing a bubble and letting loose her long blonde hair that was pinned to her head. The woman acted like it was her own little runway and she demanded attention. If she wanted to make an entrance, she succeeded.

"Surveillance on sub-level 10 is abysmal. You should look into increasing that if you’re trying not to get killed or go missing."

Nope. That’s Jim’s problem.

"I need to unwind," Imogen commented to no one in particular. Her voice was only loud enough for those closest to her to hear, mostly June and Magni. Her mind wandered to the comment about the pool that June had made in passing as an attempt to get under her skin. But after all the tensions and conversations… and Magni’s creative imagination, cooling off sounded like exactly what she needed.

"Think I’ll get a drink… and go for a swim," she mused out loud before spinning around on the balls of her feet. She cocked her head slightly while looking at June, the humor of the comment not lost on her after the little game of mind fuckery they played earlier. Her gaze slowly drifted up and over to Magni while her smile grew into something more genuine and maybe… hopeful? "Bar’s down the hall, left then a right." She raised her hand and pointed in the direction she mentioned. "Pool’s down the hall, take a right and go outside. You know… If you get bored."

Imogen’s gaze lingered for a moment before she left them. She detoured near the receptionist’s desk, reaching around whoever was browsing for their new apartment to grab her jacket. She draped the piece of clothing over her left arm, then headed down the hall. After a left and then a right, she found herself in the lounge once again. This time she didn’t intend on stealing a whole bottle of liquor, opting for a proper mixed drink and some decorum. She slid into one of the barstools and slid her fingers across the counter. An inlaid screen illuminated to life with a full extensive menu of nearly every type of drink imaginable.

She browsed for a minute before settling on a Rob Roy with extra maraschino cherries. It only took a minute or two before the flat surface of the bar parted and her drink was raised to the top with textbook presentation. The liquid was amber in color, chilled to perfection, in a large martini glass, garnished with three cherries and an orange peel. A content smile crossed Imogen’s lips as she stood up and slipped her fingers beneath the bowl of the glass. She lifted the drink to her lips and took a small sip while the hatch in the bar automatically closed.

A natural, softer smile lingered on her lips as she wandered out of the lounge and headed down the hall. She passed the main corridor that led to the lobby and continued straight through a set of double glass doors that opened up to a large private patio area, privacy fences around two sides, the tower on another and the backside entirely open to the view of the ocean. There was a sizable heated inground pool that was always a comfortable temperature, even in the chill of the coastal nights. Nestled in the corner of the fence, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights, was a large jacuzzi that could easily fit a dozen people. Then lined along the tower and the side of the patio open to the ocean were several lounge chairs and a handful of small tables.

Imogen made her way to a lounge chair that was still barely kissed by the setting sun. She set down her drink on the adjacent table and draped her jacket over the back of the chair. A soft groan of relaxation escaped her lips as she slipped off her heels and let her bare feet rest flat against the ground. She might have been a slave to fashion, but sometimes it really was a steep price to pay. Her fingers diligently unbuckled her belt then unfastened her pants. She shimmied out of her pants and draped them over the chair with her jacket. Imogen couldn’t be bothered going all the way up to her penthouse to grab a swimsuit. Bikinis were just waterproof lingerie anyway and often covered less skin.

In just her floral bustier and white thong, Imogen grabbed her drink and carried it to the shallower side of the pool. She set it down on the edge, so she wouldn’t have to get out for a sip, then made her way to the deep end. Since childhood, she never was the type to dip her toes to test the waters, but dove in head first. While a lot of things had changed about her over the years, that was one thing that remained constant. Regardless if it was water or matters of life, Imogen never tiptoed around anything. Life was too short. If she wanted something, she went for it, consequences be damned.

Without any hesitation or even bothering with the diving board, Imogen strolled up to the edge of the pool and dove in, simple yet somehow elegant. She effortlessly swam the length of the water, only coming to the surface when she reached the other end. She stood up and pushed her wet hair back out of her face. The shallow water ripped around her waist resting an inch or two above her bellybutton. The gentle breeze chilled her wet skin as she waded through the water toward the edge of the pool. Her right hand curved around her drink and brought it to her lips to take a sip. Keeping the glass pressed to her bottom lip in contemplation, Imogen leaned forward, resting her arms on the concrete that surrounded the pool, watching the light of the setting sun behind her glisten off the ocean.

^{interactions ....|.... june & magni ............... mentions ....|.... luke & ronnie............... collabs ....|.... none}

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^{#962929 ....|..... hell's angel ....|..... outfit .....|..... taxi ..................................................... #feffb5 ....|..... redback ....|..... outfit .....|..... taxi}

It wasn’t until the cab pulled up that Myla realized she was due for deja vu upon arrival in New York, knowing full well her wallet was empty aside from the cobwebs and moths that resided there. She could only hope that this cabby was a little more understanding and would let her grab money from her Uncle Foggy. Either way, that was a problem she could deal with in two hours when they reached New York. There were far more pressing things that plagued her mind rather than her absence of money, like her secret identity being a little less secret, their new forming alliance with a group of people she had never met, or Ronnie. Yeah, she was trying her best not to unpack that one.

Myla slipped into the backseat on the passenger side of the car, resting her purse in her lap before closing the door. She quietly fastened her seatbelt and clutched the handle of her bag tight enough her knuckles went white. Once Theo filled the seat adjacent to her, the driver craned his head around to look at them both. "Where to?"

It took a moment for Myla to snap out of her mental fog. She cleared her throat then answered, "New York. Queens and Hell’s Kitchen, please."

"You’re aware that’s over a two hour drive, Miss?" the man asked, not in a rude or accusatory way, but like he was making sure she was aware that the fare would be steep.

"Yes, thank you," she replied quietly. Once the car started rolling away, she sunk back into the seat. Myla slouched into the recesses of the stiff cushions until the scratchy headrest nestled into the crook of the nape of her neck and supported the weight of her head. It wasn’t often she found herself longing for sight having been used to her own unique way of experiencing the world. But the ability to stare out the window and switch her brain off was a bordering on orgasmic proposition after the evening she just experienced. The last thing she needed was to drown in her thoughts.

The silence stretched until Theo started to feel car sick. Everything was suddenly too loud, the rumble of the engine, the sound of the tires dragging across asphalt, the wind hitting against the windshield. The cab smelled strongly of tobacco and some sort of stale liquor, the rusty smell of blood permitting the smell. He blinked, coming back to himself in bits and pieces as the shock and anger drained away, leaving Theo feeling washed out and dazed. There was glass nestled in the palm of his hand, blood smeared across his hand and pants, a few specks of crimson staining the white of his shirt. He hadn’t even felt the pain earlier, still barely felt it.

"I’m sorry," His voice was too soft for the cabby to pick up on, the man was too busy listening to bad jazz to pay them any attention, but he knew Myla would be able to hear the soft whisper. His words were tinged with agony, voice cracking at the end. "I had no idea, I-I thought she was dead for two years. She just… left one day, didn’t say anything, I looked for months. Then my dad went missing, and I just… there was so much going on, I didn’t want to burden you with someone I had already mourned and moved on from."

The words rushed out of him, and by the time he was done there were tears slipping from his chin. A root of shame took up residence in his chest, curling around his heart, and his eyes burned. Theo’s hand curled into a fist, the glass digging in deeper to his skin, and he tried to use the way blood pooled between the crevices of his fingers to calm the guilt hammering at him.

Myla hadn’t noticed Theo was hurt until the metallic scent of iron pulled her out of her haze. No matter how she felt, knowing he was bleeding pulled her out of the well of quicksand that was her mind. She turned her head to face him, her face full of worry as he raced through an apology like he feared if he took too long it’d be too late. The smell of blood grew, overpowering the faint saltiness of his tears. "Don’t do that!" she scolded him quietly as she unfastened her seatbelt.

An alarm beeped from the dashboard and the cabby turned down his music abruptly. "Ay! Seatbelts!"

"I know. I’m sorry," Myla apologized to the driver as she slid across the backseat. She quickly pulled off his sweater, not wanting to risk ruining something that was special to him with his own blood. Her thigh brushed his as she buckled into the middle seat and discarded her purse and his sweater into the warm space she left behind.

Once the music returned to its normal volume, she pulled Theo’s hands into her lap. Myla didn’t care for one second if he got blood on her. Neither of them were strangers to dressing each other’s wounds. If it ruined her clothes, well… she had more. The tips of her fingers gently and diligently ran along his palm, picking every piece of glass from his skin and dropping it on the floor of the taxi. Honestly, after everything, leaving a mess in a cab was so low on the totem pole that she gave it little to no thought. She worked meticulously in silence for several minutes, her attention focused solely on the task at hand.

When she finished, her blood soaked fingers doublechecked every inch of his hand to make sure she didn’t miss a thing. Myla cursed under her breath realizing the one thing she didn’t plan for was injuries. She packed no bandages, antibiotics, nothing. After a few seconds of contemplation, her red stained hands tugged the hem of her shirt out from beneath her leather skirt. Then, without any hesitation, she pulled her shirt off. It wasn’t an ideal situation being in only her bra when all the cab driver had to do was look in his rearview mirror to catch a glimpse. She didn’t let that thought fester, quickly shoving it back to the recesses of her mind. His injuries were far more important than her dignity… Even if she was far more aware of the bare skin of her arm that brushed Theo’s as she sat topless beside him, ripping her shirt into strips.

Her fingers, gentle but precise, bandaged his injured hand. She carefully wrapped the cotton fabric around Theo’s palm, alternating above and below his thumb until most of the cuts were covered in a couple layers. Myla finally spoke up as she started fastening the ends together. "It’s ok." Her voice was soft, sheepish, and barely above a whisper. "You didn’t owe me that knowledge… You didn’t even know who I was until today." She finished the knot with a gentle tug, then released his hand.

He watched her hands work silently, frowning as his blood smeared over her skin. Each brush of her touch against his skin was enough to bring a part of him back. Theo shook his head as if he could clear it that way. He hadn’t been expecting her to sacrifice her own shirt, but she was and the embarrassment at being so close to her, like that, woke him up a bit more.

"I did," he said softly, automatically reaching out to catch her hands before she could pull away fully. "I should have told you, I’m sorry, Angel. I thought she was dead, but this doesn’t change anything for me."

He squeezed her hands gently. Took in her warmth, how her heartbeat thrummed through the tips of her fingers, and the last bit of his anger drained out of him. Theo let go of one of her hands, leaning around her to set the sweater back in her hands.

"Here, put it back on." He didn’t want to get too distracted, not that he hadn’t respectfully enjoyed the view, but it was better for her if the cabby didn’t catch an eye full or something.

Her fingers reflexively curved around the edges of his hands when he took her own within his grasp, being sure not to grip too tightly or put any pressure on his fresh wounds. Myla’s head fell slightly as she composed her thoughts before speaking. "It’s ok," she repeated. "You weren’t expecting a ghost to walk back into your life. I understand why you didn’t tell me. Your secrets are yours to share. I had no right to that information." The topic of his ex made her want to fold in on herself and shut down. It wasn’t surprising he had previous lovers. She had a few of her own, although love was rarely part of the equation. Theo was a good, kind, and caring man, any woman would be lucky to receive even a fraction of his affections. But even knowing that, Ronnie’s arrival pinched something deep inside her, leaving Myla with a strange ache that she couldn’t quite shake.

Myla had been fighting the urge to pull her hands away, resorting to her default of shutting everything out mentally and emotionally. But knowing her touch somehow grounded Theo and calmed his spiraling mind, kept her glued in place, no matter how much it went against every fiber in her being. When he tried to put his sweater in her blood covered hands, she quickly pulled away before she accidentally stained it. "Wait." She grabbed what remnants remained from her shirt and did her best to scrub her hands clean. There was still a dry residue and her skin smelled like iron, but it was the best she could do without soap and water. Only when she was certain that nothing would transfer onto the sweater, she took it back.

Something in his chest warmed as he watched her try to clean her hands, and Myla’s words from earlier seemed to echo in his ears. Had she meant it when she’d said she liked him for more than just—well, of course she had, that was a dumb train of thought. She had no idea what he looked like, and though Theo wished desperately he could give her sight he knew it was impossible and besides, he wouldn’t change anything about her. She was perfect the way she was, even if she couldn’t appreciate the wiry muscle that lined his shoulders.

"Although," she began as she slipped her hands into the sleeves. Myla couldn’t ignore the conversation forever, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. "I wish she knew how to shut the fuck up," she muttered with a little more hostility than intended while pulling the sweater over her head. Her hands worked on tugging the fabric down over her bare torso, struggling around the seatbelt. "Obviously seeing you with—close to me made her jealous and she realized how much she fucked up." She grunted softly as she gave the sweater one final tug into place.

"But…" her voice disappeared into a soft sigh as she sank back into the seat. "There are some things I would have liked to discover for myself rather than learn secondhand from her." Normally Myla would have been bright red after a confession like that, but after everything she had zero fucks to give about her own embarrassment… At least around Theo. She had already kissed him, been bombarded by his ex, and was topless two minutes earlier, admitting to being curious about what his hands were capable of felt like a drop in the bucket at that point.

Theo blinked rapidly, feeling color flood his face. Too many words wanted to come out of his mouth all at once, and all of them were probably a little too enthusiastic. He cleared his throat, trying to give himself a second to calm the rush of blood that made sitting more uncomfortable. "There are still a lot of things you can discover firsthand, I promise." His voice came out huskier than he’d meant, more confidence than Theo felt shining through in his tone.

He resisted the urge to laugh at how ridiculous he’d sounded, fingers playing with the edges of the makeshift bandages. He wanted to hold her hand again, to feel her skin slide against his own, to see her without a shirt on—Theo shifted in his seat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. The cab was actually pretty warm, wasn’t it? Now all he could hear, and smell, was Myla. It was even more distracting than everything else had been.

"I don’t care how she feels, either way." Theo added after a pause, though he didn’t want to ruin their moods he felt like it needed to be said. "I-I only care about how you feel, anyways."

The gruffness of his voice sent a tingling wave through her, settling somewhere deep in her core. Myla mirrored his movements, adjusting in her seat like she could no longer get comfortable. She cleared her throat as pushed the sleeves of the sweater up to her elbows, feeling increasingly hot between the warmth of his body beside her and the unspoken meaning in their words. Her right leg crossed over her left as she tried to settle into her seat, her knee and shin lightly brushing his leg due to their closeness.

Myla tried to focus on anything else, the scratchy upholstery rubbing the back of her legs, the soft yarn of the sweater against the bare skin of her torso, or the dewy perspiration that made the hairs at the nape of her neck cling to her skin. God the taxi was a sauna. "I need air," she whispered as she leaned across him. Her fingers fumbled along the door jam until she found the switch. A soft sigh escaped her lips as the window slowly opened, letting in the cool salty breeze that rolled in off the tide and slipped into the cab.

She paused, still leaning over him when his words sunk in. Theo didn’t owe her any explanation to his feelings one way or the other. If Ronnie’s resurrection into his life stirred something in his heart Myla would have stepped back… If that was what he wanted. But the admission of him only caring about her made her head turn to face him and her heart flutter. "I…" she struggled to find the words. "I just want you to be happy… Whoever that’s with." Myla didn’t have a clue what he saw in Ronnie, but it wasn’t her job to understand either. Theo’s happiness was all that mattered. However she could help make that happen, she would. If that came at the cost of her own happiness, then so be it. Her head turned away, the waves of her brunette hair veiling her flushed face in the wind. Her fingers slipped from the door as she slowly retreated back into her seat.

Theo’s breath caught in his throat, and his uninjured hand rose on its own accord. His fingers followed the curve of her throat, trailed across the edge of her jaw, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. Fuck, he wanted to kiss her again. He shouldn’t though, should he? If he did, would it be enough to show that the person he wanted to be happy with was her? He thought he’d been pretty clear about that, but apparently he needed to be less subtle.

So, he stole a kiss from her. You couldn’t knock down a wall without a sledge hammer, or super-human strength and pure stubborness, and Theo decided he wasn’t going to let this wall stay standing. His lips pressed against Myla’s in a way that was more desperate than before, as if he could convey all of his feelings in the simple gesture. It was short, but hot instead of sweet. A crime of passion, this stolen kiss. He didn’t feel bad for it, even as he pulled back, drinking in her expression like a man dying of thirst.

She swallowed beneath the touch of his hand against her throat. Her breath hitched in her chest and lip trembled expectantly as his thumb traced the suppleness of her skin. If Theo hadn’t stolen the kiss from her lips and thoughts, Myla didn’t know if would have been able to abstain. Something she couldn’t explain about being around him was how he dropped her guard and made all her calculating thoughts fly out the window with the breeze. Her palms pressed against his chest then grabbed gentle handfuls of his shirt. His lips were sweet like chocolate but his tongue was warm like whiskey. Her body slightly turned into his and the knee of her crossed leg inched over his thigh.

"I just want you to be happy, too." He whispered, the words ghosting against her lips. He pressed another, small kiss to the corner of those lips, teasing himself with the taste of her. His lips titled up into the slightest of smiles. "I want you to be with someone who makes you happy, I want you to be safe. It’s convenient that I can do both of those things for you."

When he pulled away, that time she was the one left breathless. Myla didn’t pull away like she often did at the first sign of affection or vulnerability. Instead she basked in it, remaining close. Her hands never released their hold on his shirt, her knee rested slightly on top of his leg, and the tip of her nose brushed the side of his with every word he spoke. She couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth beneath his lips. A soft chuckle filled the air between them after his last comment. "When did you get so confident?" she asked him quietly, a soft playfulness apparent in her teasing tone.

Theo’s smile widened further, a laugh on the cusp from falling his lips but held back at great sacrifice. She could likely feel how his body jostled with barely restrained mirth, every nerve in him hyperaware of their proximity. His fingers slipped into her hair, massaging her scalp just behind her ear, at the base of her neck, in a way that eased what little tension remained there. "I’m not sure if I’m confident, just honest."

Myla was always caught a little off guard by how Theo always seemed capable of pulling the softness out of her from behind her cold impregnable shell. It was thrilling but also terrifying. With everything going on in the world, it felt selfish grasping for sweet and tender moments like the ones they shared. She wanted more of him, all of him, but she was also scared of how that became one more thing she could lose. But whether or not she admitted it to herself, if she lost him too, the last broken pieces of her that remained put together would crumble apart. Her head fell slightly as she lightly tapped her knuckles against his chest.

"You do make me happy," she admitted sheepishly. It was like speaking it into existence made it that much more fragile. But with everything, Myla owed him that truth because there was no guarantee for tomorrow.

"Good." The word tasted as fragile as it sounded, but it was a relief to hear all the same. This entire…thing, felt uncertain. He’d known Hell’s Angel for a year now, they’d worked together seamlessly for so long, he hadn’t even realized when she became more important than just a comrade, than a friend. A large part of him was terrified of losing her, or her vanishing right from beneath his hands just like Veronica had, but he knew this time would be different. "I don’t think I’d survive you disappearing."

He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, it felt like he was flaying the most vulnerable parts of himself for her to see in a more intimate way than eyesight could ever provide. Theo’s fingers trembled against Myla, and he pulled her ever so slightly closer. Her presence alone was like a balm to his soul, soothing the sudden turmoil he’d been forced to face back at the tower. Ronnie coming back as if nothing had happened shook him more than he’d ever care to admit, not because he still had feelings for the other woman, but because it was a reminder of everything he’d already lost and the answers that hadn’t been provided. It was like he was being haunted in the cruelest way someone could imagine, if this were the plot of a book the author would be considered a sadist, that much he was sure.

Myla’s right hand released her hold on his shirt and found its way to his face. Her thumb traced the edge of his jaw, memorizing the angle similar to how others studied another’s face. Her palm rested beneath his ear while the tips of her fingers slipped into his hair at the nape of his neck. "You never told me you were a telepath." Her words were light and affectionate, contrasting the weight of their meaning. Her thoughts mirrored his exactly which made the gravity of the situation that much more dire. They both had lost so much that it felt like they were holding on by the tips of their fingers. How could they possibly help each other if they both were falling?

* * *

The remainder of the drive to New York was uneventful, filled with casual conversation, soft laughs, tender whispers and a stolen kiss or two. For those couple of hours Myla and Theo lived in a bubble outside of disappearing heroes, missing fathers, and mysteriously reappearing exes. It wasn’t until the taxi rolled to a stop that Myla noticed the familiar noises, commotion, and smells of Queens. She realized in that moment how real it all was. Redback wasn’t a faceless vigilante she fought beside, but Theo, a living, breathing person. The secrecy and anonymity washed away with every piece of his puzzle that fell into place. It was strange to think something so small as knowing where he lived could have such a big impact.

But with that also came the reality that Ronnie had already known that. She was familiar with who he was in and out of the mask. Not only did she know him, but she knew his family. Theo mentioned how his entire family grieved her disappearance, not just him. Jealousy sank in her gut like a ton of bricks, stealing the light from behind her smile. Myla hated how dark feelings like that plagued her thoughts. But she was struggling to not compare herself to Ronnie when she had experienced everything with him and been a part of his life. Up until that day Myla was as faceless and mysterious to him as he was to her. She might have known his soul, but she didn’t even know the name of his mother. Something about that rooted and festered in her mind.

"First stop," the cabby called over his shoulder toward them.

Myla reluctantly released her hold on him, pulling herself away so they no longer felt like one but two separate parts. She reached over into her purse and grabbed her phone. Her thumbs quickly flipped it open and danced along the buttons. A moment later Theo would feel his phone buzz in his pocket. "Do you think you can get there ok? Or should I come back?" There was a faint waiver in her voice. The thought of being separated and alone in New York was somehow immensely scarier after their time at the academy. She felt more exposed, like anything could catch her unaware whereas the tower was in the middle of nowhere, quiet and isolated.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?" The last two hours would become dear memories to Theo, even when all else felt uncertain and he struggled to put to words how he felt, he knew moments like these going forward would become fewer and rarer. He wanted to cling to the moment, to not slip from the cab. He pulled out his wallet with his uninjured hand, hating the new space that was between them, and fished out two hundred dollars in twenties and handed it to the cabby without a word, it would be enough for the entire drive and then some.

"No," she admitted with a sad laugh. After everything she hated the idea of being alone and Theo being out of earshot. "But the quicker we leave New York the better… It doesn’t feel safe here anymore," Myla confessed barely above a whisper. They had a long drive back and probably an hour of packing for the both of them. If they went together they wouldn’t be back at the academy until the early hours of the morning. There was a part of her that was curious about how he lived… his mom, but her selfish wishes had to be shoved away.

He pulled out his phone and tapped the back of it. A small, blue and red spider dropped from the phone. The little machine seemed to shake itself awake, legs wiggling experimentally. It resembled a jumping spider, small, strangely cute for something traditionally considered scary. Theo leaned closer to Myla, his lips a whisper away from her own. "I have something for you, it’s like a failsafe, will you hold onto it until we meet back up?"

He pressed it gently into her hand, one hand cupped around her wrist. To the cabby, it looked like they were simply sharing an intimate goodbye. Myla would be able to feel the cold kiss of metal as the small spider crawled onto her palm, tapping its legs against her skin experimentally.

Myla’s cheeks flushed at his closeness but she tried to focus on the tiny cold bit of metal he placed in her hand. If it hadn’t been Theo she probably would have panicked over a spider in her palm, but she trusted him. She didn’t know what it was but assumed it was some means to track her… Should the worst happen. "What do I do with it?" she whispered back to him, clutching the small device securely in her grasp.

"Nothing," he said softly, rubbing at her fingers to loosen her grip. The little spider skittered up Myla’s palm, beneath the sleeve of the sweater, and caught a loose strand of hair. It nestled in there, to the point where only the subtle weight of something unnatural could be felt, but she wouldn’t feel any little legs on her head either. "The batteries will last for a few hours, I can track you on my phone in case…it has a self defense mechanism, but it’s a one time use sort of thing. I just started tinkering with it, so it’s the prototype phase." He pressed a fleeting kiss to her lips, before sliding away, popping open the door, and ducking out of the cab. "I’ll see you soon, Angel."

Her anxiety crawled back up the back of her neck as he kissed her goodbye and slipped out of the cab. "Be careful," she called after him. Myla slid over into his abandoned seat, relishing in the warmth he left behind as if a piece of him remained in the cab with her. She nervously fingered at the cuff of his sweater as the taxi pulled away and headed for the heart of Manhattan.

^{interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... ronnie ............... collabs ....|.... @Sleepy Tani}

Descendants

^{#217c85 ....|..... jinx ....|..... outfit .....|..... descendant tower}

Ronnie wasn’t late, contrary to how it might have appeared.

She had been casing the tower for days since she stumbled upon the message while she may have been snooping around Alias Investigations after hours. In her defense, Jessica Jones had been missing for a couple weeks and she thought she could maybe find out more information then whatever jackasses I.H.A. sent to sweep the place. Shocker, they were a gaggle of blind idiots. There was plenty of shit still lying around, including some retro ass pager shoved away and forgotten under cobwebs and empty bottles at the back of her liquor cabinet. Shit, Ronnie nearly missed the thing herself if it wasn’t for the beeping. With Jessica Jones MIA, it only made sense for her to take the little contraption and try to figure out what it was… Or what the message was about.

Unlike the other idiots that just waltzed their way right inside the mirrored monolith on the coast of Connecticut, Ronnie had to know what she was getting herself into before setting foot in the giant tower. She spent the following week staying in a shitty rundown motel in the closest city, Bridgeport. Only once the sun had set would she make her way to the tower, keeping to the shadows and watching for signs of life. While the building looked abandoned, it had an extensive security system that didn’t leave many options for a stealthy approach.

By the day of the gathering, or whatever the fuck it was called, it wasn’t like the signal gave any information, Ronnie had narrowed down her options. Her best approach was going to be from the water which meant a lot of swimming and a second oxygen tank. She set out before the sun peeked over the horizon at the crack of dawn. She couldn’t put a finger on why there wasn’t much security through the water access. Perhaps they never thought that someone would be crazy or stupid enough to try infiltrating the tower from the ocean… Well think again, because Ronnie was 100% crazy enough to give it a try. Jury was still out on the stupid part.

It took her nearly the entire first oxygen tank to make her way up the mile long submerged tunnel. When Ronnie’s head finally broke the surface, she was in a large man-made underwater cavern. There were three docks for various underwater vehicles including one batman submarine thing. Cool.

Once she was certain the coast was clear, she climbed out of the water. There were a couple lockers holding scuba gear and some benches, but otherwise it was fairly empty, no cameras, and no people. She took her time changing into her meeting appropriate attire and stashed all her shit in the bat-sub. If things went tits up Ronnie was not swimming back through that tunnel when a perfectly good submarine was sitting there collecting moth balls. She wasn’t entirely sure if it being there was a good sign or a bad sign. On one hand maybe Batman or one of his offspring were here doing… something. But, it could also mean this was where Batman went missing and she was strutting her ass right into her own little piece of hell. Her outfit wasn’t really combat approved and she didn’t really want to ruin her Jimmy Choos, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made… She knew she should have just worn her Jinx outfit and accepted the consequences. Oh well.

With her shoes in one hand and a purse full of gadgets, Ronnie began her slow and arduous ascent of the tower. Her climb consisted of increased security measures, an almost ridiculous amount of cameras, and more stairs than she ever wanted to climb in a single day. Each movement involved putting one camera on a loop, moving several feet and then switching to the next one. It was a long and very tedious process. But after a handful of hours and a slow ascension, she eventually made it to the second floor which looked like some sort of robotics run infirmary. But more importantly, it had a convenient little balcony near the elevators that overlooked the lobby. Perfect.

Ronnie set up a tiny remote camera near the railing of the balcony, pointing it toward the lobby and had the feed sent directly to her phone. She then found a comfy little spot to lay under one of the medical beds hidden behind one of those hospital curtains. It was out of sight of the tower's surveillance or anyone who might happen to wander to that floor which was a perfect place for her to lie in wait… Literally. She put in her earbuds, rested her head on her purse and watched vigilantly.

There was an hour or two where nothing happened. But as six o’clock got closer, five people migrated to the lobby preparing to receive whomever else might have gotten the signal. There were two older men who didn’t look familiar. But the other three had varying levels of fame because of their parents. Ronnie was familiar enough when it came to the Frost and Wayne girls. She couldn’t remember their names off the top of her head, but their faces had popped up enough recently with the death of Bruce Wayne and the disappearance of Tony Stark that she could place them. Then there was Jim Stark, none other than her old boss during her brief stint interning at Stark Industries. She doubted he’d remember her or the one time she tried to seduce him in his office when they were alone, but she remembered him and the rejection. So it was unlikely that was something she was going to mention willingly.

It must have been six on the dot when a loud crash from outside shook the ground beneath her. The culprit who looked like Rapunzel on steroids broke the doors on entry and then greeted the two older men in a boisterous hug. So far everyone was familiar with each other, or relatively, which didn’t set off any alarms or red flags. That was until a few moments later a man walked through the door, carrying a woman in his arms like they were newly weds. Ronnie had to keep herself from scoffing and giving herself up before she was ready.

Once the guy set the girl down was when her heart sank faster than a rock through water. It was Theo. Her Webs. The last day she saw him was when they were still a couple. He was happy and unaware that she was about to vanish from his life. She never gave him the decency of an explanation or even a break up text. Just radio silence. Up until that moment it wasn’t a concern or a thought in her mind, but now it looked like if she had any intent on staying she’d have to face her past head on.

It was hard to focus on the others that arrived while Theo was there. He was wrapped around the brunette’s finger, leaving when she did, returning with her as well. Ronnie imagined if that girl asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. Shit, he probably wouldn’t even ask. With an incredible amount of self control, she forced herself to look away from him and pay attention as the Frost girl, Imogen... that’s right, began addressing everyone who gathered. Honestly, Ronnie was a little disappointed at the turn out. Was this really all who was left? Things were a lot worse than even she had imagined.

When the meeting was over, Ronnie let out a sigh that she had been holding in for the last couple hours. She had no further excuse to hide. Either she needed to suck it up, swallow her pride, and make an entrance… Or run for the exit and never look back. As much as the second option was tempting, she had to see it through… for her mom.

Ronnie slid out from underneath the table, no longer bothering to mask her location in the tower from surveillance. They were all about to know she was there in less than a minute, setting off the alarms wasn’t going to make much of a difference. She scooped up her wireless camera on her way to the elevator and shoved it into her purse as she waited for it to reach her floor. Once inside and behind closed doors, she slipped on her heels, and tossed a piece of bubble gum into her mouth.

The elevator dinged, signalling to everyone in the lobby that they weren't as alone in the tower as they might have thought. As Ronnie stepped out into the hallway, she pulled the claw clip out of her hair, letting her long golden curls cascade down to her shoulders. The pop of her bubble echoed off the walls along with the sharp clicks of her heels. A smirk crossed her lips as her gaze swept the room. "Surveillance on sub-level 10 is abysmal. You should look into increasing that if you’re trying not to get killed or go missing." Her eyes locked on Jim and she flashed him a little wink.

She held up her hands innocently, surrendering before anyone had the chance to come at her with angry words or angrier fists. "I come in peace. I wasn’t sure if this was a legit hero shindig or just an elaborate ruse. You can never be too cautious in times like these." Ronnie shrugged her shoulders and swept her hair over her shoulder with her right hand. "I’m Veronica Hardy, Ronnie, and the notorious cat burglar, Jinx. Reformed on the burglar part," she added with a soft chuckle. "But, you know, old habits and all that."

Then came the part she dreaded most. But rather than drag it out or play dumb, when both her and Theo knew better, Ronnie let her gaze find him. He stood at some receptionist’s desk, scrolling through what looked like a digital catalog of apartments or something. He was a couple years older and more chiseled, but still just as hot. The way his white shirt was pulled taut around his biceps brought back memories of those arms around her in the throws of passion. Ah, good times. Beside him, practically shoulder to shoulder was the woman who threatened murder and made a scene about her secret identity being revealed. Upon closer inspection Ronnie noticed the girl was wearing a sweater far too big for her, which meant it had to be Theo’s, and… she was blind? Curious.

Feigning surprise, shock, and utter excitement, Ronnie gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. "Webs!?" The blonde closed the distance between them in a couple quick steps and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Her chin rested on his shoulder as she kept him close, savoring the familiar warmth of his body and the scents of lavender and Gwen’s favorite laundry detergent. "I’m so glad you’re ok! When I heard about your dad… I feared the worst."

Only after breaking the hug did Ronnie let her attention shift to the blind brunette beside him, not like she was going to notice one way or the other. "Is this your new girl? She’s adorable."

Myla’s attention snapped to the elevator the second she heard the ding and the doors opened. She didn’t know the woman but could vaguely recall a few run-ins with Jinx, although it had been years. At first she could relate with the woman on her apprehension and even applaud her capabilities to exploit weaknesses in the tower. It was good knowledge for the Stark jerk to have. But when she shouted something about webs a cold wave rolled down her body and a flush of being completely in the dark flooded her cheeks. Myla was prepared to hold her ground and at least appear unbothered by whomever she was. But when she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around Theo, an uncomfortable knot churned in her stomach and her hand slipped from his grasp.

She put on a brave face, even if the redness in her cheeks betrayed her. Myla took a slight step away from Theo, put on the most believable smile she could manage and held out her right hand. "I’m Myla Murdock. It’s uh... It’s nice to meet you."

"Myla," Ronnie echoed with a warm, albeit entirely fake, smile as she gave the girl’s hand a polite shake. "Lovely name. Did I hear correctly that you’re Hell’s Angel?" she asked with a slight cock of her head. "We crossed paths a couple times in the past. I had nearly forgotten. Well, it’s no surprise why you caught Theo’s eye." She spared a glance over to her former paramore. "He’s always had a thing for women in masks and black leather." Her head tilted down to Myla like she was letting her in on a deep dark secret.

Ronnie pivoted on the balls of her feet, sidling up to the woman, shoulder to shoulder, like they were old friends sizing up Theo. "Although I always thought he preferred bad girls," she continued, pretending like she was a girl’s girl, offering some friendly advice when in reality a faint bit of jealousy stirred in the back of mind. "Although there’s a little darkness in you, isn’t there?" She gave the woman’s arm a little nudge with her elbow.

Myla felt like she was thrown in one of those carnival UFO rides. Everything was spinning so fast she was struggling to focus her mind. The centrifugal force kept her feet glued in place and the whiplash stole the words from her before they reached her mouth. Ronnie was like a tornado, every word was another gust of wind threatening to knock her off balance. Myla was desperate to hold onto Theo, if only to ground herself as she was bombarded with more information than she was prepared for. But in the same breath she needed space… and aspirin.

The thought that this was, perhaps, his worst nightmare emerged first. There was a pit of anxiety that expanded in Theo’s chest like a balloon, and he was so stunned that he didn’t push her away, but he didn’t hug her back either. He simply stared at the woman for a long time, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. His hand felt unbearably empty without Myla’s curled around it, and the pang in his heart had nothing to do with Ronnie.

"What the fuck?" Theodore’s voice was choked, but he reached out for Myla. He needed something, anything, desperately, to keep him grounded. His fingers curled into the fabric of his… his dad’s sweater, catching the edge of her elbow. He pressed his trembling hand against her, trying to find the energy to pull her back to his side. "You… You vanished almost two years ago, just gone. I thought you… What the fuck are you doing, coming in here, and pretending that you didn’t just disappear?"

He was angry in a way that Theodore was unfamiliar with. She’d been someone he trusted unfathomably, he’d thought he’d loved her, he mourned her disappearance, looking for her for a year. She’d been… everything to him, and he had thought she was dead.

Theo swallowed around the sudden and violent urge to throw up. Veronica had always been tricky, hard to understand at times, not particularly nice very often, but the person he’d gotten to know and care for… She was gone, at least to him she was gone. Had she even avoided him intentionally when he was working as Redback? He’d only mentioned her to Myla once before, but he hadn’t liked to talk about how someone he cared for was likely dead.

Grappling with the realization that he’d been mourning someone who was very much alive was almost too much for him, and he took an automatic step toward the door, forgetting he was still holding onto Myla.

Then, all at once, the words she’d been speaking to Myla registered for him and an entirely different sense of rage woke up within him. He did intentionally pull Myla toward him now, still just as gentle as ever even in his anger, but he didn’t stop until she was beside him.

"You don’t get to waltz in here like this, after you let me think you were dead and talk to her like that. Don’t even look at her," his voice was positively scathing, entire body tense. "Where—No, you know what. I don’t care, if you can leave and let my whole family think you’re dead for almost two years, I don’t care where you were. Just… Stay away from me."

Well that was rich. The girl was blind. Like she’d even notice if Ronnie looked at her or not. "Theo. Babe," the words rolled off her tongue with an ease of countless use, as if it was only yesterday that they were a loving couple. Her bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. "Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get to know her. Maybe give her a few pointers." Her left hand reached out to Theo’s right arm and then began walking her fingers up his bicep slowly, teasingly. Ronnie lazily turned her head toward the silent brunette, studying her flushed expression as being nothing short of blindsided. But it was more than Theo’s shock at her rising from the dead, Myla seemed to know nothing about her. That’s rude.

Ronnie’s eyes narrowed as he pulled the brunette away gently, but with a fiery protectiveness that she wasn’t sure he ever exhibited for her. The friendly, calculated smile faltered for a fraction of a second as the envy festered and rooted itself in her gut. It was an alien feeling that left her clammy and nauseous. Whatever pretense of false friendliness she had been portraying churned and boiled into something darker.

She took a step toward Myla, filling the space that Theo created when he pulled her away. Ronnie rested her elbow on the brunette’s shoulder like they were the best of friends. "Theo’s a giver, although I’m sure you’re already aware of that," she commented and motioned to him like she was running through his sexual rap sheet. "He’s also really good with his hands and his tongue... If you haven’t gotten a chance to partake. I highly recommend it."

Theodore’s free hand convulsed at his side as his anger built, it felt like a tornado that had gone through a house fire and morphed into something monstrous. He didn’t know what he wanted to do first, but the surge of violence he felt at watching Ronnie touch Myla so casually was something he was unfamiliar with. He hated it, hated her, and given the fact that he’d never even hated a schoolyard bully it was all new and frightening for him. His hands trembled, but he found restraint in the furthest recesses of his soul and clung to it.

Myla froze as the woman’s arm rested on her shoulder. She focused her attention on steadying her breaths and counting every blink of her eyes. Her face remained blank and emotionless as she felt trapped like a sheep stuck between two hungry wolves. She was prepared for the shade and underhanded comments, but Myla wasn’t ready for Ronnie spelling out Theo’s sexual prowess with a smug familiarity in every word. The color drained from her face. God she wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Jumping in the middle of New York traffic seemed like a fair alternative.

"Although…" Ronnie continued, her voice dropping to just above a whisper as she turned her attention back to Myla. "It’s almost cruel how the blind girl snagged one of the hottest guys in the room. You can’t even appreciate the view. Tsk tsk." She lightly brushed the girl’s brunette hair over her shoulder while sparing Theo a side-eyed glance.

Ok, fuck this. She had enough. Myla tugged her shoulder free from under the woman’s resting arm, causing her to stumble slightly as she regained her balance. "Just means I like Theo for who he is, not how good he looks on my arm," she retorted coldly, letting her words do the biting rather than her tone. She turned her head toward Theo, disregarding Ronnie entirely. Myla didn’t have the time nor the patience for petty mean girl bullshit. "Pick whichever penthouse for me. I don’t care what I get," she said while motioning to the digital kiosk that they were attempting to browse before Ronnie rudely showed up. Her voice still had an edge to it, but she tried her best to not let her own temperament jade her words. "I’m going to go call a cab."

"I’ll be out in a minute." He hated how hollow his voice sounded, hated how he had to watch her walk away again and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Feeling powerless was just as new to Theo as the anger that coursed through his veins like poison.

Without a word or recognition toward Ronnie, Myla gently pulled the sweater from Theo’s hold and exited the tower. She found her way back to the familiar garden wall and took a seat. The cool air and silence, if she ignored the voices inside, calmed her. She took a moment to catch her breath, then fished her phone out of her purse.

With the proverbial ball and chain out of the room, Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest. A small, almost genuine smirk crossed her lips as she tilted her head to the side. "She’s feisty. I like her," she quipped with a quirk of her brow. "Can’t say I’m surprised Daredevil’s daughter piqued your interest. A little gloomy, but cute… enough." She shrugged her shoulders. "I think her darkness is rubbing off on you though. You’re a lot angrier than I remember."

Theodore did something he’d never been able to do with Ronnie before…he ignored her. It took every bit of self-control he had to not lash out at her, to bite the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He focused on choosing their penthouses, choosing one he was sure Myla would like and then picking the one above hers without even glancing at the specifics. He stared down at the screen for a long moment, trying to steady the uneven tempo of his angry pulse. It took a few minutes, but he finally turned to look at her.

His face was blank in a way he’d learned from Myla, not nearly as perfect as hers but it was an expression Ronnie would have never seen from him before. He met her eyes steadily, trying to look for a smidge of remorse, a hint of regret, but he couldn’t discern anything of worth there. It made him feel sick, he’d loved her and she’d just left. No closure, no goodbyes, she’d let him think she was dead.

"I don’t know you," there was a burst of clarity within Theo as the words left him, and he realized this could be his closure. He chose how it happened this time, he was in control of it. "Veronica died two years ago. I spent a year looking for her, I mourned with my family the person we knew and cared for. This doesn’t change anything, until you give me a reason to…forgive you, you’re dead to me still. I don’t know you, and if you don’t leave Myla out of whatever twisted game you’re trying to make this into, I’ll show you how much angrier I am these days."

He’d lost Veronica, and then he’d lost his dad. Theo had been at the lowest point in his life when Myla found him and saved him in more ways than one. In his mind, nothing else mattered anymore than making sure she was safe too. Had he ever felt for Ronnie the way he did about Myla? He didn’t think so, but he’d been so much more naive back then. One of his hands curled around the edge of the table, and it splintered beneath his fingers, the glass surface fracturing across the tabletop. "I’m serious, Veronica. Stay away from me, and if you touch her again..."

He didn’t need to protect Myla, she was more than capable of standing up for herself, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. He felt blindsided, bewildered, hurt and so angry. There was no part of him that was happy to see Ronnie. Theo glanced down at the table and shook his head, turning on his heel and heading out of the tower. Only Myla could help with the mess his head was in.

Ronnie was left behind, an uneasy smirk cocked her jaw to the side as she clicked her tongue. That could have gone better, but it also could have gone so much worse. There was some dark and dormant jealousy that poked at the recesses of her dead heart, but she was easily able to brush it aside for one reason and one reason alone… Myla. Whomever that woman was made Theo grow angry, possessive, and protective, all aspects of him that plagued the once sweet man she knew. It was obvious the broody Daredevil spawn was darkening his spirit and clouding his judgement. Good thing she was there now.

Looking unbothered and unfazed, Ronnie brushed her hair back over her shoulder and stepped up to the kiosk. Contrary to what one might think, she wasn’t overly picky. It was a place to live and who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? She scrolled until she found something that would suffice and selected it. Level 17 it was.

^{interactions ....|.... theo & myla (everyone in the lobby generally) ............... mentions ....|.... imogen, june, jim & magni ............... collabs ....|.... @Sleepy Tani}

Descendants

When it had been a half an hour past the initial meeting time, Imogen figured it was as good a time as any. There was no knowing how many people got the message or planned on attending and she couldn’t very well wait forever in hopes that one person walked through the door. She wasn’t keen on repeating herself or being interrupted, but given the circumstances the likelihood of that was unavoidable, whether she liked it or not.

Imogen steeled the small bit of nerves that made her fingers tremble slightly, wishing she had saved the last swing of vodka for luck, or courage, or another excuse to procrastinate for a few more seconds. She sighed and wiped her sweaty palms against her pants before walking to stand somewhere in front of the hallway in hopes everyone could see her well enough. It was rare for her to have nerves with public speaking, but so much rested on their shoulders, on her shoulders at that moment that her chest tightened, making it difficult for her to breathe or force herself to speak.

James may or may not have dozed off more than once with his elbow on the sofa’s armrest and his jaw resting his palm. The last time he drifted off his head dipped and the sensation of falling startled him awake. He noticed the blonde in all white moving to stand front and center of everyone who gathered. The added weight against his shoulder made him look over noticing Aria was passed out and using him as a pillow. He lightly bumped her knee with his own and gave her a little shake to try and rouse her before she missed the important shit.

Imogen cleared her throat and clapped her hands together lightly to get everyone’s attention. "I wasn’t really given much time to prepare a proper address so I apologize if my presentation is a little rough around the edges." Her hands rose up to brush her blonde hair behind both of her ears. "For any of you who do not know, I am Imogen Frost and this—" she motioned toward Jim who sat in a chair as far removed from everyone else as possible, "—is my brother Jim Stark. We are both the children of Tony Stark…" Her voice drifted off as her gaze became fixated with a blemish in the tiled floor. While the facts were just that, facts, having to admit it to a roomful of strangers made a lump form in her throat and a blurriness fog her vision as she blinked back the threat of tears. "As you’ve probably heard, he recently went missing, joining the ranks of countless others who’ve disappeared without a trace."

She rubbed the palms of her hands together, quickly sifting through her thoughts to find her next words. "That’s why—or part of the reason why— the distress signal was sent out on an old network setup by our father and…" Imogen’s gaze drifted over to June, silently seeking approval to not only expose her father’s true identity, but hers as well. Unlike Jim, she was capable of skirting around the topic if anonymity was desired. It’s your call, her words rang out in the woman’s head, seeking a nod or something to steer her in the correct direction.

Watching Imogen’s distress made June’s chest ache, and she’d made up her mind long before now. She was going to be part of this team, and that required a level of trust. Hiding in the shadows wouldn’t help her find her family, it wouldn’t help Jim or Imogen, or any of these strangers. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she tried to imagine her father in her place, the stance he’d choose, the words he’d provide, the fact that he had rarely trusted anyone with his identity but he was still gone all the same.

"And Bruce Wayne," June pushed up from where she’d been sitting, and she kept her body fluid and stance relaxed as she crossed to stand beside Imogen. There was an abruptness in the air around Juniper, something seeming to slot into place within her. Her face was close to emotionless, offset by an echo of anger that seemed to haunt her every movement. Her presence could be easily shifted out of view, but when she wasn’t bothering hiding it the aura of Nightingale was intimidating even without the suit. "My father is Batman. They didn’t trust the new system, and so this fail safe was put into place..."

Her eyes swept slowly across the room, categorizing each and every one of them. It all seemed like too much and like they weren’t enough. Had this really been their master plan? She’d give anything to talk to her dad one last time, to just understand better. "It’s us, essentially. We are the fail safe."

"The goal," Imogen continued, picking up where June left off. "Was to reach anyone who still might be out there fighting. Going at this alone isn’t working… Our fathers are proof of that." She motioned between herself and June. "There aren’t many of us left and 75% of us who are left are fucking hiding away on Krakoa or Genosha. They won’t let non-mutants hide on their islands and they won’t come here to help us." There was a bitterness in her tone, thinking back to the countless numbers of mutants safe in their ignorance on Krakoa. Only her mother knew the risks and still she tried to keep Imogen from coming to the academy rather than joining her and helping.

"It’s up to us to try and make a final stand, together… United." Imogen knew how ridiculous she sounded. It was like one of those ridiculous speeches everyone knew that Captain America or Superman made before rallying their allies to go fight some big bad. But she didn’t know most of these people and they didn’t know her. They didn’t have the trust and camaraderie like the Avengers or the Justice League. It was just a room full of random ass heroes and vigilantes that followed their coordinates. Strangers. She wasn’t her mom. She didn’t know how to make inciting speeches, boost morale, or gain someone’s loyalty.

"We need each other if we have any hope of persevering and hopefully finding those who we’ve lost along the way." She scanned the room, making eye contact with anyone who held her gaze as a desperate plea for help. Imogen didn’t know what else to say. She had already gained Magni’s assistance, but even an Asgardian wasn’t enough. They needed everyone in the room… and more.

"What we have to offer for your help is this tower." Jim spoke up, his voice projected through the speakers in the Vanguard armor standing closer to the center of the room. It echoed through the space, with a faint static underlying it all. Jim had put his glasses back on, and seemed to be tapping his fingers on his thighs. The suit turned to face the center of the room, and a beam of light shot out from its optical lenses. A holographic display of Descendants Tower hovered in an open space in the center of the room, glowing a translucent blue. As Jim spoke, the holographic projection split the tower into sections and highlighted the aforementioned facilities. "We have a state of the art training facility, with a dedicated armory, garage, and workshop. You'll be provided private quarters and housekeeping services, along with three square meals a day… and a dedicated infirmary if you chip a nail in the simulator." Jim shot a look towards Imogen at that last statement. The small smirk he flashed her was undermined by the sheer panic and desire for approval over his hastily produced visual presentation.

Imogen rolled her eyes slightly at her brother’s comment but still managed to flash him a brief, reassuring smile. "You go to a nail tech for a broken nail, not the doctor," she corrected him with her usual playful sassiness that cut through some of the tension in the room and relieved a fraction of the strain that tightened her shoulders.

Juniper cast grateful glances toward Imogen and Jim, feeling for the first time that the three of them were fully on the same level. This was their only chance to form something tangible and stand against whatever their foe was, and if they didn’t try then what was the point? The fact that Imogen could have left for somewhere safer was not lost on her, she could have abandoned Jim and June to face this alone, but she hadn’t. Just like June was choosing this fight, so was Jim. All she could hope is that these people would be willing to choose it too.

"We’re all here for our own reasons, but…our parents, the heroes that came before us, they all left a legacy behind. It may be silent now, in their absence, but its call continues to resonate." June clenched her hands, and then smoothed her skirt carefully. She was putting too much of herself out in the open, this was turning from a plea for help to blatant begging, but she had to. Even if it sounded cheesy, wasn’t half of putting on a costume and fighting the good fight cheesy anyways? "World’s mightiest heroes, Titans, Challengers, Suicide Squad… "

A smile crossed her lips at that one, they were so creative with their ridiculous names sometimes. "It doesn’t matter what we call ourselves, but we are the descendants of people who chose to fight. We have the tower, we have money, but more than anything we have each other. None of us have to do this alone, this was the plan they wanted for us…"

Her eyes darted toward Imogen and Jim, and she felt off kilter trying to be so motivational. She could see there was a slight affect in the room to their words, Redback was nodding along to her words, and Aria looked as if she’d already made up her mind. It was the sudden clapping that startled Juniper from her own thoughts, and she turned with raised eyebrows toward the entrance.

A tall man had slipped inside at some point, blond hair meticulously slicked back, a tailored suit hugged his muscled physique, and she could catch the faintest outline of tattoo’s spanning from his shoulders to his chest. His cheeks dimpled as he smiled at them, blue eyes dancing around the room as he took in all of his counterparts. There was an air of refined strength as he moved further inside, hands slipping into his pockets.

”Spoken like true leaders of the resistance,” he said, voice carrying through the lobby confidently. He recognized a few faces in the crowd, but to them Lucian would have looked like an entirely different person than they remembered. ”Where do I sign my name?”

Imogen on the other hand had noticed the second the doors opened and he walked in. For a moment she was hit with a wave of familiarity in the way the man walked and carried himself, but once he talked all the pieces locked into place. A weak laugh escaped her lips. Of course. Not only was Magni there, now Luke was too. She didn’t know what was worse, the crush she never got over even a decade later or the ex she found comfort in even if she knew deep down inside that she settled for him. Fate was a fickle bitch. At that point if there were any other monsters lurking in the shadows she’d rather them just pop out now and save her the trouble.

Luke looked… different, more mature and sure footed. A decade had changed him in a way that wasn’t entirely different from herself. She wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she had strayed so far from the person she used to be that he didn’t recognize her either. Her hands slipped into the front pockets of her white pants with an awkward chuckle. "I don’t actually think there’s like a roster." Her gaze drifted to her brother with furrowed brows. "Is there?" Considering how thorough he tended to be, she wouldn’t have put it past him.

Jim raised an eyebrow while looking towards Imogen, before he turned his gaze towards June. It was better to get this over with now. From the Vanguard speaker, Jim's voice rang out. "Well… I haven't whipped up anything formal yet, but we will need to assign suites anyways. There’s a kiosk over there." He pointed towards a monitor sized interactive screen propped up on the receptionist’s desk. "You can browse and choose from the available apartments there. We will also be collecting a palm and retinal scan of everyone in the elevator, and either give your name or your codename." Jim's eyes flicked briefly over Magni, Tobias, and Luke. "Those who are already in the system can use their old rooms. Just be sure to let J.A.R.V.I.S know what to call you."

James sat forward in his seat, resting his elbows on bent knees and cupping his hands together. "So you’re offering us a place on your super secret team and access to your high tech tower without having a clue who we are? Is that… smart?" He wasn’t trying to play devil’s advocate but blind allegiance when they didn’t know the face beside them or what they were capable of was a big ask. "I’m just saying… Some of us aren’t previous students or celebrities. Do we even know if we’re all heroes and not some random asshole that stumbled upon the signal?"

The suit's head swivelled to face James, remaining otherwise motionless for a moment. It only took a moment before Jim spoke up. He was trying to be good, but that nagging feeling in his chest was too strong. "Great question, Junior. We’ve been clocking most of you on your way in." The suit’s head shifted slightly to face more towards Zaria, its glowing optical scanners watching her closely. "You’re the one who brought the flight risk… but given the price circulating for daddy’s little princess, something tells me she’s traded teams." Jim’s tone somehow seemed more cold coming from the Vanguard. It turned its helmet back in James’ direction. "We were hoping for most of your parents, but we’ll make do with what we have."

"Jesus Christ, Jim!" Imogen sighed, slapping her hands against her thighs in frustration. "Did you not learn the first time ten fucking minutes ago?" she asked, craning her head around to look at him while motioning toward Myla and Theo.

Zaria went rigid in her seat beside James, hands curling into fists in her lap. Bright, unbridled fear shot through her. She’d only just woken up, mind still a little hazy from sleep and the exhaustion that was weighing her down, but she hadn’t expected…she kept her eyes on the ground, trying to steady her racing pulse, her anxiety swelling up with all the force of a tsunami. She knew, logically, that nowhere was technically safe from her past. Any sense of safety she’d felt was stripped away with a single sentence, and Zaria wasn’t sure if she was devastated or pissed.

The memory of her brother pressing his lips to her forehead, of pushing her away and telling her to go so she wouldn’t be trapped like a bird in a gilded cage, sold to the highest bidder, all to be reduced to daddy’s little princess. "Don’t call me that." The words bubbled up before she could lock her jaw, and her eyes rose steadily to look at the tin can of a man.

She couldn’t help but wonder what a good shock would do to the machine, or if the man himself was susceptible to electrocution. She squeezed her hands together tighter, until the feeling in her fingers was little more than pins and needles. She wouldn’t do something as brazen as yell at the man, or walk out, but she wouldn’t take the judgment laying down. "And don’t disrespect him either, do you even want allies? It was a good question, especially if some of us have more to lose than…" her eyes dragged up and down the suit in clear disgust, her accent peaking through as her anger spiked. "You, a man who hides behind metal."

James sighed, realizing his questions opened a can of worms that festered with botulism. He held out his hand toward Aria in an attempt to calm her down before he stood up and placed himself between her and the metal suit. "Look man, they’re valid questions. And while you get to sit on a throne of daddy’s tech some of us only know what we’re told. But if you’re going to get all high and mighty over a fucking question then keep that shit directed at me. Leave her out of it."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "You’re welcome to call my dad if I’m not up to your standards." James laughed at the thought of his dad dragging himself out of his lazy boy and making his way to the academy. He’d be there in maybe a week and most likely drunk. "He’s old and fat, and the only part of him that’d be useful lives in me now. So if you’re wanting something other than beer and Nascar, you’re stuck with the flight risk."

The spirit scratched at the bars of its cage, festering at the rising of James’s anger. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders trying to brush off the sensation. "I just want to know who I’d be agreeing to fight alongside… Is that such a difficult question?" His gaze scanned the others who remained quiet and unmoving. He held up his hand before the annoying mouth behind the sentient armor spoke up again. "The last thing I want is your shitty interpretations of who we are. We can speak for ourselves."

James looked down at Zaria and sighed. Being the voice of reason or the center of attention wasn’t really in his wheel house but he put his foot in his mouth and had to suffer the consequences. "I mentioned when I first arrived but…" his voice trailed off as he noted the faces that had arrived after he did. "I am Jameson Blaze… James. And I am the Ghost Rider, if that means anything to any of you." He sighed and ran his hand back through his shaggy black hair. "I am possessed by a spirit of vengeance." He slapped his hands to his thighs like there was nothing else he had to add and looked back over at Jim. "See, that’s how normal people get to know each other." With a shake of his head, he lowered himself back onto the sofa and sighed. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and a small puff of steam rose up from his chest.

"I’m sorry about my brother," Imogen apologized to James and Aria mostly, but let her gaze sweep across the rest of the room as well. "I understand your apprehension. I can only speak for myself and unfortunately most of my life has been less than private." She sighed softly trying to think of a way to build trust but it was difficult when tabloids shared everything about her from her last haircut to who she was sleeping with. "For anyone who doesn’t know… I’m a mutant. I can have diamond hard skin at will." Then on command her form shifted to look like a giant swarovski figurine then flipped back to normal a few seconds later. "And I’m a telepath. Sorry in advance, but I promise to never divulge the confidence of your thoughts. I don’t share other people’s secrets." Her eyes narrowed as she glared over at her brother. If only he had the same restraint.

Magni stepped forward, a warm smile plastered on his lips. He raised a hand, lightly placing it on Imogen’s shoulder for reassurance. He knew a thing or two about difficult brothers, and figured the least he could do was offer a fraction of comfort. He spoke with a deep resonance that seemed to fill the entire lobby. "I am Magni Thorson, Prince of Asgard, Lord of Thunder, and God of Might." He stood tall, his eyes briefly glancing towards Luke and Tobias with a small grin, for they already knew of his abilities. "I am the honored wielder of Mjolnir, and the very storms are at my command." He gave a slight bow towards those present, his voice rich in optimism. "’Tis my great honour to serve with thee, especially former brothers at arms…" He kept his hand on Imogen’s shoulder, issuing the lightest of squeezes. His thoughts remained just as light, as his mind was focused on keeping track of the names and abilities of those gathered.

Imogen glanced over at the large hand that rested on her shoulder. Magni’s touch was warm, yet comforting. There was a small part of her that stirred and wanted to blush, but she pushed it down and shoved the thought aside. It wasn’t the time for personal thoughts like that. Although she was grateful for another person who came to stand by her side, who gave her the strength and reassurance she needed in that moment. The fact that it was Magni made the moment a little sweeter and caused her nerves to flutter slightly. Not right now, she had to keep repeating to herself in an attempt to keep her emotions in check.

Zaria relaxed slowly as James spoke, feeling less like an animal backed into a corner, less alone. Her hands slowly unfurled, feeling returning to her fingers. She wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with his defense of her, only because she’d had to learn how to stand on her own without her brother and without Logan. It almost felt natural though, just as she’d come to James’s defense. Her arms crossed over her chest, and unlike the son of Thor she didn’t volunteer any more personal information than what had already been presented with the team.

"Lucian Rogers," the blond man pulled a hand from his pocket, giving the room a small wave. His lips twisted into a charming smile that left Zaria a little disarmed, and when he spoke next it was directly to her and James, voice lowered as if sharing a secret. "My friends call me Luke, though. My dad is Captain America, I don’t do anything as cool as control the weather but I’m pretty capable in a fight." He nodded toward Magni and Imogen, before his gaze swept across the room, pausing on Jim’s suit with a hint of amusement in his features. "I’m happy to fight alongside anyone, if it’s for the right cause."

Jules finished adding her cream and sugar until her coffee was a nice light brown. She stirred the mixture with a small spoon, taking in all the introductions. Her eyes flicked in the directions of those who had spoken before, her heart betraying her otherwise collected demeanor. She clearly was a little nervous about sharing everything all at once, but she caved to the pressure. "People call me Judith Barnes, I prefer you just call me Jules. I’ve been with the I.H.A. for a while, and I was trained by my dad. Pretty handy in a fight."

Myla didn’t plan on doing anymore talking. She had said her piece earlier and wanted to leave it at that, but unfortunately for her more people had arrived. Rather than stand up, she simply motioned her hand to gain anyone’s attention. "Just… for the newcomers, I guess." She cleared her throat and ran her empty hand along her skirt as if there were wrinkles she had to flatten out. "I am Myla Murdock, Hell’s Angel and the daughter of Daredevil. I have no special powers, I’m not possessed or a God. I am actually blind, but it’s enhanced my other senses to superhuman levels."

"Theodore Parker, New York’s resident web-slinging Redback spider." He gave a wave to the room from where he sat beside Myla, body relaxed, his other arm thrown casually over the back of the couch behind her shoulders. "Superhuman everything over here, thanks to my pops."

More content being a silent bystander, Tobias waited until he was the last person in the room to speak. He sighed softly and pushed off his bent knees to stand. "I am a previous student," he spoke calmly, not meeting anyone’s gaze in particular. "My name’s Tobias Lehnsherr... Yes, that Lehnsherr," he added before anyone had the chance to ask. "I can do whatever he can do." He moved his hands as he searched for the words, hoping they could fill the gaps where he was failing. "Manipulate metal and shit like that." He shrugged his shoulders then lowered himself back onto the couch.

Zaria’s eyes were trained on Tobias, a strange expression stealing across her face. There was a beat of silence as everyone digested what he said, and her stomach twisted at the pause. When no objections came, when no one condemned him for who his father was, she felt something within her loosen ever so slightly. "I don’t have all the powers my father does, I’ve only ever shown an aptitude for electrokinesis, and forms of energy manipulation." She couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone other than Tobias, even if she didn’t know him there was a sort of security in directing her soft words at him and him alone, even if everyone else was listening. "My name is Zaria von Doom, I prefer to go by Aria. I…also prefer discretion," her eyes cut to Jim, not the suit but the man who was huddled in the corner, and her voice grew a little sharper. "On account of the fact that my father plans to marry me off to a man thrice my age upon my return for political gain, I understand some of you wouldn’t understand why daddy’s little princess wouldn’t be agreeable to such terms, but maybe you could try." She turned away from Jim resolutely, nodding once at Tobias.

"That… sounds miserable. I’m sorry." Tobias wasn’t a man of many words, often only speaking when necessary but he could relate to falling under the thumb of his father’s whims. Without words and just the pointed way Aria only seemed to speak to him, he could tell she sought some security in their shared plight. Normally he wouldn’t have said anything beyond a head nod of acknowledgement, but instead he let brief words of reassurance and sympathy slip from his lips. While he doubted she or anyone else would gain further meaning from it, to him it meant he understood and would try anything within his power to keep her from that fate. He didn’t offer any further explanation into his own relationship with his father but with time, he’d be willing to share.

When everyone in the room had spoken their piece, Imogen cupped her hands together quietly. "We… I appreciate everyone sharing. I know that wasn’t easy for some of you and I personally thank you for putting your faith in us with that knowledge. I know it isn’t easy to trust a room full of unfamiliar faces and there will be growing pains as we learn to work together but…" her voice trailed off as she sought the reassuring gazes of June, Magni, and even Jim. "Sorry, I’ve never been good at the whole pep talk thing," she laughed softly and shrugged her shoulders. "I promise to try, if you guys do. When it comes down to it, that’s all I can promise. No one will stop you if you wish to leave and I will take your secrets, and confidences to my grave."

Myla hated to admit it, but Theo was right about her regretting it if she left. Imogen and June had valid points and putting together some sort of team seemed like the best course of action if they wanted results. If all of them had been trying to solve the disappearances alone and got nowhere, maybe eleven… twelve? heads were better than one, or two in her case. She wasn’t thrilled about living under the same roof as Jim but being this far out of the city and in a remote part of Connecticut made her feel safer than she had in a while. But there was still one glaring issue… "I didn’t come prepared to stay… My suit is back home. I’ll have to go back to Manhattan."

"I could send my driver for your things," Imogen offered.

"I appreciate it but if I don’t see my Uncle face to face he won’t believe anything anyone tells him. He’s too paranoid after my dad… I have to go."

Imogen didn’t like the sound of it, but who was she to tell her no. "Take someone with you, at least. Safety in numbers."

"I’ll go with her, I need to get some of my stuff too." Theo was going with her even if someone else volunteered, but he wouldn’t share that thought with everyone else. There was no scenario in which they didn’t go back to New York together, especially not after he’d spent the last week thinking she’d disappeared.

June kept her mouth shut, she’d already told Imogen and Jim she was going back into Gotham that night but she sure as hell wouldn’t be consenting to a chaperone. She’d have to let the liquor burn off some before she left, and though she wasn’t planning to patrol tonight she’d pack her suit just in case. She returned Imogen’s searching gaze with her own, offering a small, reassuring smile to the other woman. "Unless anyone has any questions, I think it’s best if we disperse for the night. It’s been a long day of travel for many of you. There’s a map of the tower by the elevator, all of the floors are open unless J.A.R.V.I.S. tells you otherwise. We can meet up tomorrow and discuss our plans going forward, as a team."

^{interactions ....|.... everyone in the tower ............... mentions ....|.... none ............... collabs ....|.... @webboysurf @Sleepy Tani}

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#c9bef3 ....|..... outfit .....|..... party}

Blair was thankful her company didn’t fight when she started pulling her away. So far her night had been everything it should be when it came to a party, booze, boys, and sex. But she was sorely missing some girl time. She hadn’t really found her footing since arriving at camp and longed for friendship beyond her brother and his questionable fashion choices. Of course, kidnapping some random girl might not have been the best start to a friendship, but she seemed in need of saving and played along. It was a good start if nothing else.

"Well, I’m Anissa…and…" the girl replied, but her voice trailed off as something seemed to trigger a spark of recognition behind her eyes. "Wait, Blair?"

"Last I checked," she replied with a chuckle.

"Were you actually able to find Heath?"

"Huh? Oh," Blair snorted at the question and rolled her eyes. "That was just Sylas’s idea of entertainment. What’s funnier than sending someone to find their sibling in the middle of getting laid?" The question was rhetorical while her annoyance and sarcasm was palpable. "At least he didn’t watch… That would have been weird."

There were a handful of campers lingering around the bar but not nearly as many as when her brother enticed half of the party with shots. The dispersal might have been partly her fault, but also, Blair didn’t give a shit. She hadn’t been touched in three months, her sexual itches and cravings were more important than dignity and decorum. Her mood had significantly increased knowing she still had it and that the problem wasn’t her, but the lack of decent penis options at camp. With the influx of new campers… and men, she was finding her rhythm again.

Blair sidled up to the bar near a guy with curly brown hair who tossed bottles and blended drinks like being a mixologist was his true calling. She rested her forearms against the edge of the counter and leaned forward to gauge the range of liquor options. As she scanned the array of bottles, her gaze drifted to the hot, jock looking guy with red hair that stood between her and Trinity. Well, if one thing was for certain, if he was trying to flirt with the blonde he wasn’t going to get anywhere which left him open for her. She flashed him a little smirk before shifting her attention back to Anissa.

"Hey, so… question," the girl spoke up quietly, motioning toward the plethora of alcohol options. "Is bourbon… the kind of thing people actually take as a shot? I really liked how it tasted earlier, but…I totally forgot to ask Sylas what the actual name of the bottle was."

"Anything can be a shot if you’re brave enough," Blair replied as she scanned the bottles until she found some old, pretentious looking bourbon. That had to be what Sylas was drinking. There was no way he’d settle for anything less than a hundred dollars a bottle. She shifted to the tips of her toes, reaching for the liquor that happened to rest somewhere behind the redhead. As she retrieved the bourbon, her arm lightly brushed against the guy. It was actually unintentional, contrary to what anyone probably thought. She laughed apologetically, sparing him a quick glance. "Sorry about that, handsome."

Blair snagged six empty shot glasses that laid around the bar, some were definitely used previously but she didn’t care. If the germs could survive the excessive alcohol content in her stomach then they deserved to live. She popped the cork and proceeded to fill the small glasses. After prepping their drinks that would probably make the eclectic bartender seize on the spot if he noticed, she slid three over in front of her new best friend.

Blair’s fingers lightly scooped up the first shot and clinked her glass against Anissa’s with a mischievous smile. "Cheers!" She threw her head and the shot back in one drink. Her face contorted slightly at the surprising burn of the drink as it made its way down her throat. Her brows furrowed as she examined the empty shot glass. "Sylas really has pretentious taste in alcohol." She laughed softly as she discarded the empty glass and reached for the next shot.

"...or a Sit on My Face, Honey depending on where you're from, I guess..."

The conversation beside her piqued her interest, along with the redhead promptly spitting out his drink. Blair laughed softly, scooped up her second shot and brought the glass up to her lips. "Say please," she commented to the men with a mischievous grin. Her gaze shifted between the pair of them, then settled on the ginger before throwing back her second shot.

Blair looked back over at Anissa with a growing smile. She could feel the alcohol settling into her bloodstream, making her head a little fuzzy and wiping away her inhibitions… If there were any there in the first place. "Two down, one to go." She wasted no time, scooping up the last shot and downing it before she could regret the choice in liquor further. In the end it wasn’t about the taste but getting drunk and having fun.

She blinked as the final burn settled in her stomach. Blair sat down the last empty shot glass and tilted her head to the side as she waited for Anissa to finish. "So… Have you decided what kind of hell we’re getting up to?" She had half a mind to hijack the stereo system, blast some Chappell Roan and dance around like the world was theirs. But whatever they did was Anissa’s choice, she was happy to tag along in whatever shenanigans the girl would find the most entertaining.

^{interactions ....|.... anissa, nate & baxter ............... mentions ....|.... sylas, heath & trinity ............... collabs ....|.... none}

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^{#667c0c ....|..... outfit .....|..... party}

Wes waited, patiently… for the most part, as they made their introductions and picked their cabins. He even chuckled to himself at the explanation of Rae’s last name, a hurdle that took him the better part of a year to get a handle on… And even then he sometimes slipped up on pronunciation. Since the guy didn’t actually introduce himself, Wes was thankful that Rae took it upon herself to say his name outloud. Another last name he’d never be able to pronounce correctly, but thankfully he rarely used anyone’s surnames, let alone remembered them. It’d be fine. He’d forget by the morning anyway.

While he thought he might have been able to slip away now that Rae had the company of someone else to figure things out with, instead she went immediately into panic mode. "Wait—what! But you just got here! I mean—I just got here, and you—" Her hands flapped around enough that she might have taken flight if she didn’t catch herself and stop. "What I’m trying to say is…you don’t have to bail. I mean, you can bail—free country, New Year’s, girlfriend, priorities, totally valid—but also I still don’t know where anything is."

He nearly made a comment under his breath about Trinity not seeming to want to be around him at the moment. But that was his business. No use airing his own dirty laundry in front of a newbie or making Rae feel worse about the whole conversation than she already did. "Woah. Ok, breathe," he said calmly, placing his hand on the redhead’s shoulder trying to get her to stop panicking for two seconds.

"The map is very useful," Idris chuckled. "Should I have brought a sleeping bag? Not sure what the inside of the cabin will be like. And I haven’t really done much camping before."

Rae jabbed her finger in the air toward Idris like that was the exact reasoning she needed. "See? That’s a question I can’t answer, but you can. Think, Wesley! What if another question comes up that I don’t know?"

Wes laughed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, if it’ll help you not freak out, I’ll help you guys find your cabins. Camp really isn’t that complicated," he added with a shake of his head. His gaze drifted over to Idris. "The cabins are all furnished. Weird camp magic I can’t explain, but they’re always outfitted to suit their owner. Everything you would want should be inside… Unless the Gods are being dicks or something. It’s possible." He shrugged his shoulders like that was a fact he assumed the pair were abundantly aware of.

"Um." Wes scanned the map then took a step to the South, pointing his hand toward cabin 41. "Your cabin is pretty close," he told Idris with a faint smile. "Rae, yours isn’t far down that path," he added while pointing down the dirt trail beside Idris’s cabin.

With a soft sigh, Wes leaned over and picked back up Rae’s bag. He nodded his head in the direction of the cabins for her to lead the way and he would follow. If she was wanting to figure shit out and get her questions answered, then she needed to take the lead and find her questions. "Alright, Lewski. Lead the way."

^{interactions ....|.... rae & idris ............... mentions ....|.... trinity ............... collabs ....|.... none}

Descendants

^{#962929 .....|..... hell's angel .....|..... outfit ............... #feffb5 .....|..... redback .....|..... outfit ............... #375a87 .....|..... nightinggale .....|..... outfit ............... descendant tower}

Myla slipped off her heels, pressing her bare feet into the cool concrete to try and ground herself. The chill through the bottoms of her soles and the back of her thighs helped distract her mind from her erratic heartbeat and the panicked breaths that made her chest rise and fall. She followed the cryptic message in hopes of finding her father, not to be exposed in a room full of strangers. Her dad wasn’t there, that much was obvious. So why the hell did she linger outside? Why didn’t she just… leave?

She left her purse inside, not like a cellphone and empty wallet would solve her dilemma. What was she going to do? Walk all the way back to Manhattan? Myla sighed. Her sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose slick from a cold sweat. She was trapped in that fucking place whether she liked it or not… At least until Theo was ready to leave and she wasn’t going to force him to go without answers, even if she was checked out and shutting down slowly with every breath.

Her toes dragged against the rough and cold cement seeking the discomfort to settle her mind and bring her back down. She didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until they stopped before her. Thrown off kilter and unfocused, Myla couldn’t focus enough to tell who it was. But if it was that Stark fucker she’d break his nose the second he went to speak. No words were spoken as a hand gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His fingertips curved under her earlobe and ran along her jaw. Her chest tightened and caved under his touch, unable to remain strong in his presence.

"I’m here, Myla. Whatever you want to do, I’ll follow you."

Myla’s head rose to face him. The ghost of a single tear stained her cheek with the faint black smear of her mascara. She leaned into his touch, seeking his comfort and to prolong the connection until she heard the subtle shift of feet behind her. She went rigid like someone walked over her grave, defeated and slouching posture snapping to a robotic like composure. Her head turned away from the person while her left arm shot out, summoning her batons. The pieces of Yggdrasil wood flew out from their hiding place in the bush, zipped through the air, and then slammed into her open palm. A silent threat that whatever pretense of good behavior had flown out the window with her secret identity.

"Fuck off," was all she said. Myla didn’t care who it was or what they wanted. The last thing she needed was another stranger seeing her weak… vulnerable.

"One of them wants to talk to you first, before you decide. That’s all I’m asking, just listen to her, okay? This one and the other lady gave that asshole hell, and if by the time she’s done you want me to go back in there and punch him I will. If you want to leave we will, but if you want to stay, I’ll be there too."

"What if I want to punch him?" she mused under her breath with a weak, exasperated laugh. Splitting her knuckles across that asshole’s face sounded pretty cathartic at the moment.

Theo grinned down at Myla, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her again. He wanted to hold her, that single tear had made something inexplicable in his chest tighten until each breath felt like a struggle. His hand rose on its own accord, fingers sweeping gently around the wrist to her hand that held her baton. "Then you punch him, and I’ll hold him down." There was a hint of laughter beneath his serious tone.

Myla sighed, and caved under his touch, letting her head fall slightly as she rested the batons in her lap. "Fine… What do you want?" Her voice was still sharp and defensive. Whatever walls she had lowered were firmly locked back in place. Her face was blank… vacant, besides the protrusion of her tense jaw muscle and the slight flair of her nostrils.

It took everything in June not to react to the weapon soaring through the air, to the threat that was presented to her as if on a silver platter. It wasn’t her fault, Jim was his own man and made his own choices, but she felt the responsibility of it all the same. What would her dad say, if he were here in her place? She took a half step forward, and then paused again, frowning.

"I’m sorry," and she meant it with every fiber of her being, the words fell from her lips before she could stop them or think better of it. To apologize for it was to undoubtedly take responsibility for it, but June had been taking on so much that wasn’t hers to carry lately, what was one more thing. "He should have never done that, and I know apologizing on his behalf means less than nothing but I’m going to do it regardless because you deserve to hear it."

"We’re all here for the same reason, someone we love is missing and we don’t know why. Jim may not care about allies, but I do." Her voice cracked, and June shifted uncomfortably. Myla and her had a lot in common, at the end of the day. Neither of them wanted to be vulnerable in front of strangers, but the other woman had been stripped of that courtesy so she pushed aside her pride and made no attempt to reign in her emotions. "I’m sorry, let me start over. My name is Juniper Wayne, my father was Bruce Wayne… But he was also Batman."

She let the words hang there for a moment, and June realized that it was the first time she’d ever had to say the words aloud. Tony Stark had told Imogen and Jim with her father’s permission years ago, she’d never had to admit it, never had to bear her family's burdens to anyone else before. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, wondering wildly how her dad had ever managed to have conversations like this without falling into a mess of nervous laughter.

Myla’s head turned a fraction of a degree toward the woman, hanging on her words but saying nothing. Bruce Waynes was Batman… Huh. She supposed it made sense when she put all the pieces together. The masked vigilante had to be from some sort of wealth to afford all the gadgets, vehicles, and whatever else he had. Her dad sure as hell didn’t have any of that. Daredevil was lucky to have a bulletproof suit and the batons he received from Heimdal that now rested in her lap, an heirloom that felt like they were in the wrong hands. But there was no devil mobile or fancy utility belt. It was just… him, a mask, and a billy club. Even in hero circles, wealth discrepancies were still a very real thing. Myla and Theo lived in an entirely different world.

"He’s missing, so is my brother." She sucked in a breath, wincing, but forging on anyway. "So are your fathers, and almost everyone in that lobby… I’m pretty sure they’re all missing someone too. This isn’t just a job, not for me at least, it’s personal. I’m not going to ask you to stay, not after what Jim did."

Her eyes bounced between the two of them, taking in the shock of the man's face and the careful mask the woman wore to hide her own feelings. She focused on Myla, because it was an expression she was familiar with, a practice to protect oneself above all else.

"I chose this life, just like my dad did. I know what I'm doing, what I’m getting into. And on any given day, I could stop doing it. Today, however, isn't that day. And tomorrow won't be either." Juniper steeled her nerves, and closed the distance between them with slow, measured steps. She paused just in front of the other woman, pressing a small, batshaped metallic device in Myla’s palm after a moment of hesitation. "You can walk away if you want, and I would understand. If he did that to me… Well, I would have punched him. Just, don’t think either of you have to do all this alone. I won’t ask you to stay, but I will ask you to reach out if you ever need anything. Not from Jim, but from someone else who understands why people like us have to keep our names a secret."

Myla’s hand slowly rotated in her lap to accept whatever cool metal the woman placed in her palm. The tip of her thumb lightly pressed into the sharp point of one of the bat’s wings. Her brows furrowed as she sat in a pensive silence. She wasn’t alone. For over a year, her and Redback… Theo were all each other had. No matter how hard things got or how much the burden grew or the pain festered, they survived, persevered. Maybe it was her own stubborn independence, but she struggled to see what difference another cook in the kitchen would make when everything was already up in flames.

Juniper backed away a few steps, half turning to go back inside. She’d said what she needed, did what she felt she could to try and save the chance they had at forming a reliable ally. There wasn’t much more she could do, she wanted to flee from the emotionally driven scenario, but she knew she couldn’t.

"Well, damn." Theo muttered, voice a little awed. "Batman? Bruce Wayne? Is that a bat shaped cell phone? Dude." He leaned over Myla a little, one hand absentmindedly rubbing at her shoulder as he squinted at the device. It was simple, sleek black and no thicker than a smart phone, there was no screen though, just a little red button in the center. "What does it do?"

"It’s an emergency button, it won’t activate until it’s pressed but once it is, its location will be sent directly to me." There was a pause of hesitation, the sound of June tugging nervously at her sleeves filling the air. "I developed them after my brother went missing, I’ve only made three so far."

She’d given one to her mom, and one to Alfred. She’d planned to give the other to Imogen, but something about this felt right to her. Theo looked up at her, his eyebrows rising up some. His fingers rubbed at Myla’s shoulder, working some of the tension from her.

"You really do care, but I don’t get why. We just met, it has nothing to do with who your dad was." His voice was challenging in a way that it rarely was, and his impromptu massage paused.

"It has everything to do with my dad," she said, before the words even registered to her. June frowned, and sighed. She really, really didn’t want to be here anymore. "He taught me that it's not who you are, it's what you do that defines you."

The tip of Myla’s thumb absentmindedly traced the edges of the bat shaped device in her hand. She found herself wondering what her dad would do if he was in her shoes—her bare toes curled against the rough concrete—place, she corrected her own thoughts in a way that would have made him laugh… If he was there. Her father, Matt Murdock, was a kind, trusting man, but the Daredevil rarely trusted anyone beyond himself, her, and God. But where the fuck was God? All of Earth’s defenders kept going missing and not a single ounce of divine intervention has spilled from the heavens. That signal was supposed to be her sign from God and what did she get for it? Not her father. Not answers. Just a dick striping her of her secrets and dignity.

Her faith was failing. Her faith in God… Her faith in father being alive… Her faith in others.

She sighed softly. "Can I… Have a minute alone, please?" Myla finally spoke up, turning her head toward June. She came outside to get away from the unfamiliar voices, to fall apart in the safety of silence and solitude. Theo was welcome… always. But she needed peace, if only for five minutes, to quiet her mind and rein in her emotions that were slipping through her fingers like water. There was a part of Myla that appreciated June’s attempt to relate and sympathize, but no apology would fix what had been done, and she wouldn’t believe Jim even if he did.

"I’ll be back in… In a minute." She wasn’t sure why she made that promise. The last thing Myla wanted to do was go back in there. It wasn’t like her father was lurking around the corner to surprise her. If he was, he probably would have punched Jim before she had a chance to be properly offended. There was just an indescribable nagging at the back of her head telling her to see it through or she’d regret it. She really fucking hated her conscience sometimes. It was exhausting being the bigger person. But she’d swallow her pride to see it through. If nothing else, hear them out before swearing to never speak to another Stark again.

"Take all the time you need," June said, turning around to head back inside. She’d done her part, and it had left her with more complicated feelings than before she’d followed Theo out here. This was an awful start to everything, and Jim had been the one to initiate it. "Thank you, for hearing me out."

Theo was silent as the woman disappeared back inside the building, the quiet stretching long after he heard the last crunch of glass beneath her feet. He slowly sat down beside Myla though, arm wrapped carefully around her shoulders. "Batman, Iron Man, son of Thor…looks like they’ve got some bigwigs in there already, I don’t know if they need little guys like us."

He was thinking aloud, trying to offer an out to her even now. It was just a clusterfuck now, and Theo, like everyone else, was wondering what his dad would be doing in this scenario. Not Spider-Man, who would stay and help because it was his responsibility, but Peter Parker. Would he risk staying if it meant being away from New York? From Gwen? Yes, he probably would. Peter Parker and Spider-Man were one in the same, no matter what it was, his dad would be self-sacrificing about it.

That left Theo with a thought that lingered like tar on his hands… Did he have to be just as self-sacrificing to live up to his dad’s name? If Myla decided to go, he couldn’t see himself staying behind.

"What are you thinking, Angel?" He whispered, tugging her into his side a little, giving Myla something to lean on.

June strode into the lobby without a word, bypassing Jim without even so much as a glance in his direction. She stopped beside Imogen and Magni, holding her hand out for the bottle, with a downward twist of her lips. Tension lined her shoulders, and there was the slightest tremble to Juniper’s fingers as she stared at Imogen. The conversation was playing over and over again in her head, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or punch something.

"I won the diplomacy girl scouts badge," she finally said, voice wobbling traitorously. She hadn’t been ready to admit who her dad was to anyone yet, hoping to leave it to Alfred or Imogen, but Jim had forced it all. June felt like one big open wound, flayed and bleeding for the whole world to see. "Please, Im."

Imogen pivoted on the balls of her feet turning to face her newest company. A sympathetic smile crossed her lips as she caught glimpses of the turmoil that was bubbling up in June’s mind. The blonde nodded her head and grabbed that half empty bottle of vodka, then held it out to her. "Go ahead, take it." Imogen sighed, sparing a glance toward Magni before looking back at June. "I probably should be cut off anyway. Can’t be that persuasive if I’m slurring my words."

"As long as you’re taking over the persuasive bit." June took the bottle, pressing the cool glass to her lips, and tipped it back. A second passed…and then five, ten, fifteen. The contents of the bottle was dwindling, and she finally pulled back after there was less than half of the half remaining, a drop of the clear liquid trailed down her chin.

The warmth of liquor spread through her from her throat, down to her stomach, until it reached the tips of her toes. Juniper grimaced at the flavor, pulling the bottle back a little to squint at the label. "Did you steal this from Phil’s stash?" She swirled the last of the liquor, looking as if she was considering going in for the last bit of it as her tongue trailed across her bottom lip, reconsidering the flavor. No, it was pretty awful. Nothing like the aged bourbon she had up in her room.

"I don’t know. I just grabbed the first bottle I saw," Imogen confessed with a soft laugh. Before June could drink the last bit of liquor, the blonde reached out and gently pried the bottle from her hands. "If I can’t get drunk," she continued as her free hand reached up and she hooked her index finger beneath June’s jaw. Then, with a tender swipe, Imogen’s thumb ran along the woman’s chin, wiping up the drip of alcohol while carefully avoiding smudging her lipstick. "Then neither can you." She brought her thumb between her lips and licked clean the bit of vodka that clung to her skin with a smile.

Without another word, Imogen turned slightly, catching Magni’s gaze from the corner of her eyes before setting the bottle back down on the table.

June’s brain slowed, stalled for a moment, and chocolate eyes widened as Imogen’s finger caught her chin, the woman's nail grazing her bottom lip as she wiped the liquor from her skin. A flash of heat swept across her body, color that had nothing to do with the alcohol flooding to her cheeks, as her gaze caught Imogen’s thumb dipping between her own lips, and—

The fuck? Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. There was a brief moment where her mind wandered to other things she could press against those lips, before she neatly redirected those thoughts and tried not to squirm where she stood. These fucking Starks were going to be the end of her, Imogen was doing it on purpose and Jim didn’t know what affect he could have. June bit her bottom lip, her mind slipping to fantasies about Jim and his fingers, before she very quickly shoved that thought aside as well.

Imogen’s brows rose slightly, tilting her head in amusement at the various thoughts and images that crossed June’s mind. Glimpses of lips on flesh and a tongue between rouged lips encircling—Then the picture shifted to wiry strong hands and… Jim?. Imogen grimaced and made a noise of audible disgust. Thankfully, the fantasies ceased before she had to give herself an ice pick lobotomy.

"Christ," she muttered, eyeing the bottle on the table. "If you’re the voice of reason, why the hell do I have to be sober?"

Wayne’s did not pout, and it was something Juniper had found herself trying to remember more often than not these days. The liquor was strong, even if it was shitty, and she could already feel it affecting her thought process. Her eyes wandered toward Magni, starting at his broad shoulders and then dipping lower at a leisure pace. Her mind was half strategy and half appreciation, but she paused for a moment, noting how he was angled toward Imogen, how she’d subconsciously mirrored the position of interest, and a slow, lopsided grin pulled at June’s lips.

"Because it’s about—"

I wonder if what they say about big feet is true? It was an innocent question, little more than a soft internal monologue, but her eyes intentionally caught Imogen’s gaze with an air of mischievousness.

If Imogen was drinking something, she might have choked. Instead a deep redness flooded across the pale skin of her chest and cheeks. Before she could stop herself, she looked over at Magni, her heart rate quickening as her gaze traveled down—No. Stop. Her head quickly turned away, her narrowed gaze snapping to June. "You’re lucky that we’re supposed to be on our best behavior right now."

June’s expression was that of the cat who had caught the canary, a flash of victory crossing her mind like lightning in the sky. She’d been trying to fluster Imogen back, it was strictly a matter of pride, but the flush of red blooming over pale skin was satisfying for more than one reason. Her eyebrows rose a little at the other woman’s words, sensing a challenge and trying to resist the urge to rise up and meet it head first. Naturally, she failed miserably.

"Or what? I can’t tell if you’re threatening to rub my chin again, or to break out the tape measure." She felt a little more brazen thanks to the liquor, helpfully picturing Magni in some grey sweatpants, perhaps after an intense workout, and all but screaming the images in her head at Imogen. Now that June had noticed their mutual attraction it was too good an opportunity to pass up, Imogen looked at the man like she wanted to climb him like a tree. She reached for the bottle again, feeling entirely too cocky about her chances in success at snagging it.

Imogen’s gaze remained fixated on a spot on the wall, refusing to look at June or Magni. A small smirk crossed her lips as she lightly crossed her arms over her chest. "Or I’d give you a taste of what you want… my lips… and tongue," she replied quietly, letting the tip of her tongue linger against her bottom lip for just a second. She made sure to only speak loud enough for the three of them to hear. No need to cause a scene… yet. "Really make you and my brother squirm." Her grin only grew as she spared a glance toward June, waiting for her inevitable reaction or response.

June, who had successfully snagged the bottle and was mid-sip, did choke. The woman sputtered for a moment, dignity falling to the wayside as she struggled to remember how to breathe with cheap vodka filling her lungs. She ought to have known not to get into a pissing contest with a Stark, but once she got air back into her lungs her pride returned with a vengeance. Fine, if we’re playing dirty.

"Did you know we have a pool, Magni?" June’s tone was devilishly delighted, and she capped the liquor bottle once more. Imogen had a split second warning of what she was thinking, flashes of wet, bare skin screaming across her mind's eye, before she plowed onwards with all the grace of a bull in an antique store. "Imogen loves swimming, not a huge fan of bathing suits though. She’ll have to show you where it is, after the meeting maybe. I’m sure you’ll love it."

And so would June, but that was beyond the point. What a ridiculous tease, if June had known all it would take to get Imogen to relax like this was booze and a hot blond she would have called a stripper service earlier in the week. At least she didn’t have to pay for it this way, and the stray thought of asking Phil to take a bet with her on how long it took for Imogen and Magni to get past the fuck me eyes phase crossed her mind. She’d have to ask him, before she stole his car again.

Imogen rolled her eyes and cocked her head toward June, honestly a little disappointed at her attempt to turn things back on her. "Magni attended the academy, June. He knows where the pool is." She looked over at the towering God for a moment remembering he wasn’t always the ripest apple in the bunch. "It has been a decade. But still." She shrugged her shoulders. "And you’re right, I don’t like bathing suits. But I feel like Jim would threaten me with homelessness or something if I swam naked. Although we both know you’d enjoy that view." Her comment wasn’t directed at either one of them specifically. They were both welcome to think what they wanted, especially Magni. Imogen kicked herself mentally over that diverging thought before bringing her attention back to the current game of wits.

There was a little glint in her eyes as she let an innocuous memory of seeing herself in the mirror, naked, flow from her mind and into June’s. The vision showed Imogen standing before a steamy full length mirror, her skin glistening and flushed from a hot shower. Drips of water fell from her damp hair, trailed down the valley between her breasts, and slipped into her navel. One foot was propped up on the edge of a bathtub as she used a towel to dry off, rubbing the fabric against her abdomen and down along her thigh. "Should I continue?" she asked, her smile nearly stretching from ear to ear.

Flushed, damp skin, steam rolling into the cool air in soft waves, the temperature change clearly affecting her— "Imogen!" June’s voice was strangled and shrill, little more than a whisper as she slapped her free hand over her eyes, as if that could stop the sudden vision from overwriting everything else she had been thinking about. The muscles in her abdomen tightened, a fierce blush rising up her cheeks. No amount of alcohol would cleanse that image, it was going to be stuck in her head for days, but she wouldn’t be the only one walking away with imagery that was going to haunt them in more ways than one.

She shoved a memory of Jim to the forefront of her mind, his sleeves pushed up his arms as he leaned over a desk, an expression of intense focus set upon his features as he stared at something on one of the screens. The memory rippled, distorting at the edges, more fantasy than reality. She’d imagined it before, his hand curled around her hair at the base of her neck, the soft noises he’d make, how his dark eyes would be focused on her alone as she showed him there were more interesting things than computers and AI. She would drag the experience out, until his hands trembled and he begged.

Juniper grinned at Imogen, all smug satisfaction.

At first the blonde laughed at June’s freak out and little scream. She was half surprised that she didn’t get slapped for her little stunt. It would have been worth it. In the end, it was all in good fun and lightened their moods… In a kind of fucked up way. There was a moment where Imogen thought that was the end until images of Jim flooded June’s mind once again. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe a little too focused on his scrawny forearms but he was hunched over a desk like he normally was most of the day. Then the scene shifted, taking the hazy glow of a less solidified thought, more like a dream for fantasy. The second she heard a noise that she never ever wanted to hear within a mile of her brother, Imogen immediately flipped the switch, shutting off her telepathy. It was only then that she noticed how truly quiet and tense the lobby was.

"That’s cheating," Imogen said, wagging her index finger at June with a disapproving shake of her head. She turned her attention to Magni, lightly slapping his chest in a playful manner. "Do me a favor, handsome. Think of me pornographically again so I don’t have to throw myself off the top floor of the tower. Please?" While there was some sarcasm in her tone, there was also a desperation to think of literally anything else. Visions of Magni fucking her across half of the academy was pure cinema compared to that nightmare.

June rolled her eyes with a playful grin, jabbing herself in her chest with her pointer finger, shoving the bottle into Magni’s hands. He could probably finish it and not feel a single thing, damn Asgardian’s. "Batman," She said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the room. "We don’t fight fair, in fact I don’t think the word fair is even in my family's vocabulary."

Imogen shook her head back and forth in a mocking manner. "Call me old fashioned," she conceded with a sigh and an involuntary twitch of her eye. She plucked the bottle from Magni’s hand before he got a chance to take a drink. Whether or not it was smart for her to have another drink at that point was irrelevant. A manicured nail flicked off the cap and brought the bottle back to her lips. She chugged an ill advised amount of liquor before handing the vodka back to mister tall, beefy, and blond. There was enough of the transparent alcohol to let the Asgardian get a few good sips before the container was officially drained of every drop.

Her eyes flitted around the room, taking in the many tense and waiting faces. It was only because of the vodka that she’d managed to lighten up, which was probably for the best. Jim had made things undoubtedly tense, the blonde woman with the sheer top on one of the couches tensed when he started blabbing names and she hadn’t relaxed yet. The sooner this all started, the better. "You might want to finish that bottle and pitch it before Phil gets back, Magni. He gets fussy about his liquor, I’ll have to buy him something to make up for it…"

Back outside the tower, in the chill of the evening breeze, Myla remained quiet and stoic. She let Theo pull her in closer without a fight. In the tense silence, she brought her knees to her chest, resting the heels of her feet against the rough edge of the concrete garden wall. Her arms wrapped around her legs, pinning her batons between her thighs and chest as she rested her head on her bent knees. Curls fell from behind her ears, hiding her face behind a curtain of brunette hair. Her grasp on the metal bat tightened, digging the sharp points of the wings into her palm to the point it might have drawn blood. She didn’t know… Nor did she care.

Myla sighed. "I don’t belong here," she finally spoke up. Her voice was muffled by the cocoon of her body and full of doubt. "Batman, Iron Man… a God," she repeated his words back to him. "... Spider-Man," she added softly, hinting at his dad… At him. "This isn’t my world. This is yours."

She slowly lifted her head from her knees and pulled off her sunglasses with her free hand. The earpiece was clenched in her last three fingers as her thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of her nose. "A blind woman with heightened senses does not belong in a room with superheroes. I have nothing to offer." She wasn’t seeking pity or reassurances. The facts were all there, laid out plain as day. Everyone in that tower could obliterate her in a second without breaking a sweat, including Theo. And maybe June and Jim were normal people under their billions and gadgets, but she couldn’t even meet them on that field either. Myla wasn’t a stranger when it came to her utility and mortality, she was reminded of it almost daily fighting alongside Theo, but among people like that… She was just a liability. If they were trying to make some sort of team, the last thing they needed was her.

His eyes felt warm, and his arm reflexively tightened around Myla’s shoulders. Theodore suddenly felt like she’d already left, like she had one foot out the door this whole time and had been waiting for a chance to slip away. What could he do to change her mind? What could he say that would make her pause? He didn’t let go, refused to let his arm move even an inch.

"Do you remember that time in East Village when that guy had a gun to my head?" His voice was soft, little more than a whisper. His eyes had slipped shut, and his arm relaxed some around her shoulders. "I think about it all the time, I thought I was done for, I could hear him squeezing the trigger, but then you were there. You knocked the gun out of his hand, you saved my life."

Theo stood up, turning so he was facing her fully, one hand curling around her shoulder, the other catching her chin between his calloused fingers. Theo tilted her head up, so he could look into her eyes even if she couldn’t look into his. "I never asked to be Spider-Man, I never asked for these powers. The only reason I am who I am is because some random bug bit my dad when he was our age, and that changed everything. He was just a normal kid, he didn’t want to be a hero."

He leaned closer, until their noses were almost touching, his words just a breath across her skin. He needed her to hear him more than he’d ever needed anything before, needed her to listen and understand what he was saying. Because without Myla, without Hell’s Angel, Redback wouldn’t be at this tower today.

"With great power comes great responsibility. Just because you don’t have powers like me, just because you don’t have money like them, doesn’t mean you aren't a superhero and it doesn’t mean you haven’t chosen to shoulder this responsibility too. You’ve saved countless lives, and Myla I believe… I believe there’s a hero in all of us, even if we didn’t ask for it. There is something in each of them, in me, and in you that makes us stand up and fight back even when it seems impossible to win." He could feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, his throat tightening up as he spoke. It would be so much easier to just be normal people, to take her away from all of this, to live their lives outside of this fucking mess. But were they the kind of people to choose the easy way out? Theo didn’t think he was, and he didn’t believe Myla was either.

"This is your world," he squeezed her shoulder, a gentle reminder that he was there with her, no matter what she chose. If this was his world, then she belonged in it. "You won’t be able to convince me that you aren’t part of this."

She blinked slowly. Cloudy eyes flicked around like she was searching to see his face through a thick fog, but it was only an empty void of nothing. Myla didn’t move, didn’t speak. She listened as he fought so hard to prove how she belonged there. But he only managed to name one time she saved him versus the countless times he protected her. One victory didn’t tip the scales. She wanted to be swayed by his valiant effort. She believed that he saw the truth in his words and that he was genuine. She just didn’t agree.

Myla was as stubborn as a bronco that refused to be broken. When she set her mind to something it was nigh impossible to convince her otherwise. Not even the closeness of his face or the warmth of his words tickling her skin was enough to make her falter. Even if it made her cheeks flush and her breath seize in her chest. It only made her feel more guilty that she was incapable of seeing herself the way Theo saw her.

"Ok," she conceded barely above a whisper, letting her breath mix with his in the small amount of space between them. She let him win. She refused to break his heart with the dark truth that festered inside her. Myla would let him have that one white lie. If only to calm his panicked mind and stop the tears that formed in his eyes. But she wouldn’t let him die to protect her if it came to that. He could do more good for this world than she ever hoped to accomplish. So if her goal was playing along just to keep from doing something stupid and to keep him alive, then that was enough for her.

She didn’t believe him, he could tell from the inflection in her voice, and Theo didn’t know how to feel. Part of him was hurt by it, he’d practically poured his heart out for her, tried to make her see from his point of view, to understand why he fully believed she belonged here too, but it hadn’t mattered. Theo let out a soft sigh, his hand dropping from her chin.

He didn’t understand why she was agreeing, women were so confusing but he knew that she was stubborn, it was nothing new, he’d just hoped…"Ok," he said, stepping away fully. He shoved the sleeves of his sweater back up from where they’d fallen around his arms, paused to consider it, and then moved to pull the sweater off. It would leave him in a white T-shirt that hugged the muscles of his biceps. "I understand."

Myla could immediately tell her white lie fell dead on the ground between them. She was never good at lying, especially not to him. Her heart sank when Theo pulled away his hand. She hadn’t been cold the entire time she was outside, but his defeated ‘ok’ and the way he retreated ripped away whatever warmth she had. He was the sun and her own stubborn fatalism cast a shadow between them. Her bare feet slipped from the garden wall’s edge back to the ground as she stood abruptly, seeking to close the space between them. Everything she was holding fell from her grasp and scattered across the walkway, but she didn’t care.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, pleading. Her eyes were closed as she grabbed a hold of his shirt in both palms and lightly bumped her knuckles against his abdomen. Myla didn’t want to hurt him. That was the last thing she wanted. She broke it, the meaning behind his kind words, the comfort in his trust, his spirit… And she desperately needed to mend it.

"I love the way you see me," the words slipped out, nearly catching in her throat at the heaviness. She didn’t mean that word… Or maybe she did. Either way it filled the air between them and Myla wasn’t going to take it back. "I wish I could see myself in the same light you do. I just…" her voice trailed off as she tried to find the words to say what she meant, but her head was an indiscernible cluster of emotions and thoughts she could barely sift through. He held her on a pedestal. It felt impossible to live up to the image he painted of her but she’d try if it kept him from pulling away again.

"I’ll do whatever you want. If you want me to stay and fight, I will. If you want to go back to Manhattan and the lives we had before, I’ll do that too." A sad, defeated laugh escaped her lips as they pulled into an apologetic, heart breaking smile. "We can run away and hide in the mountains if that’s what you want," she added barely above a whisper. It didn’t matter, she just wanted to erase the sadness she caused him and make him the same happy and optimistic person he always was. He shouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of her dark thoughts like she did.

"Myla…" Theo’s eyes widened, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. There was an emotion he couldn’t quite place stirring in his chest as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and pressed into the muscles of his stomach, he could feel his abdomen tighten in response, a thrill rolling down his spine at having her so close. "I already told you, I’ll go wherever you go. I’m not leaving you, not for anything. I just… I don’t think you could forgive yourself if you walked away now, some part of you would always regret it."

Before he could stop himself, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It was brief, just a fleeting flutter of his lips brushing over her forehead. It felt right though, natural in a way that made Theodore feel unsteady. "I won’t let you regret anything, if I can help it. So I can’t let you walk away yet, not until we understand what’s going on."

The old stirrings in her stomach and pinkness of her cheeks that the Stark had stolen away return when Theo’s arms immediately wrapped around her and pulled her in close. Myla inhaled softly when she felt the foreign softness and warmth of his lips pressed against her forehead. Her eyes closed as her head leaned into the touch. "I know," she said, forcing herself to speak. "You’re right…" Her voice trailed off.

She didn’t know what else she could say. The world was going to shit without heroes and the two of them were barely keeping a hold on things in Manhattan already. Each day was only getting worse. They could hardly make it through a night without gaining more injuries and more close calls with death. Myla had lost count of the number of times they had been at the wrong end of a gun or they weren’t fast enough to help someone in need. Their efficiency was waning. How much longer before it claimed their lives too?

Theo pulled back some, his arms still securely around her, but he smiled down at her, all soft affection and understanding. He wished she could see his face, maybe then she’d understand the true depth of how he felt right now. "If you want to run away and live like hermits after we know what they want, then we will. You have to decide this, though. I can’t make this choice for you Angel, but I’ll be there either way."

Looking down at her, feeling her warmth with how close they were now, the strangest thought crossed Theodore’s mind. His eyes strayed lower, hovering on her lips for a split second, before warmth flooded his cheeks and he looked away. Now wasn’t the time for such a ridiculous thought.

Myla focused on the heightened silence between them as she felt his eyes on her like a phantom touch that grazed the vellus hairs along her skin. She could feel his heart racing through her hands that were still pressed to his chest and hear the way it made his soft breaths stutter. In that moment, she wished she could peek into his mind and hear his thoughts. A sigh escaped her lips, her own nerves threatening to match his.

"We both know you couldn’t be a hermit while the world was burning," she filled the silence when their faces grew dangerously close. Myla’s knuckles lightly bumped against his chest a second time before she released her grip on his shirt. It was one of the many things she lo—liked about him… His inability to turn away when he was needed. It was also one of the things that terrified her. How much could Theo give until it was too much? She shook the thought off, not letting her mind wander to that dark, scary place. Thoughts like that made her a dangerous person, someone that even she didn’t recognize.

Myla slowly pulled away from his embrace, sacrificing the comfort, safety, and warmth of his embrace to try and compose herself. She rubbed her arm at the sudden chill of his absence. Her bare feet lightly slapped against the concrete as she wandered after a stray baton that rolled several feet away. She slowly leaned over, wrapped her fingers around the piece of wood, and ran her thumb along the etched runes with a soft sigh. When she returned back to him, she crouched down, collected her discarded items and put back on her sunglasses.

Feeling Myla slip from his arms was reminiscent to a punch to the gut, and for a moment he just watched her go. That strange feeling that had been building in his chest was stronger than ever, heavy like a steel beam he was trying to hold up. Theo watched her rub at her arms before she went to collect her discarded things, trying not to laugh because Myla was so fast to throw everything on the ground, and stepped toward her so he could start to pluck everything she’d picked up from her arms.

"Put this on before you catch a cold," he was trying to distract himself from how having her so close left him so flustered, the thought of how her lips would feel pressed against his own still fresh in his mind's eye. "And for the record, if it came between you or the world burning…"

Theodore laughed, but it sounded sort of strangled. He glanced down at her purse that he was holding again, and her batons, and shrugged before shoving them into the bag. That’s what it was for, right? Or did she have snacks in it, he was actually pretty hungry. "I’m only one guy, and my bucket isn’t big enough. Sometimes, you have to prioritize."

"I’m fine—" Myla started to argue against the sweater, even though her hands were already dipping into the sleeves when his words finally hit her like a ton of bricks dumped on her chest. Her head snapped up to face him in a way that was eerily like she could see him, if only for a passing moment. "...What?" she asked so quietly that her words slipped away in the wind. Her life was not worth the rest of the world, yet she didn’t doubt Theo’s words or meaning for a single moment. She wanted to tell him not to think so rash, but she also knew nothing she said could sway him. And while she should have been chastising him for thinking in such a way, her heartbeat was in her throat and her entire body, down the tips of her toes on the cold concrete, felt like it was on fire.

She wasn’t entirely sure what came over her. Maybe it was the cacophony of emotions and thoughts that spiraled in her head. Maybe it was the way her stomach couldn’t stop twisting and turning in Theo’s presence… Or maybe it was simply because he confessed to letting everything burn… for her. But whatever caution and logic that usually guided her actions was a quiet murmur shoved to the back of her mind.

Myla took a step toward him, closing whatever space remained between them. She reached up and cupped the sides of his jaw in her warm, trembling palms. The tips of her fingers dipped into his hair while her thumbs rested before his ears. The sweater hadn’t even made it over her head, the sleeves bunched along her forearms, and the bulk of it hung between her elbows. Her chest lightly brushed against his as she shifted her weight to the tip of her toes. She gently guided Theo’s head towards her, making him travel the remaining distance until her lips pressed against his without a breath of hesitation.

His arms opened automatically to accept her embrace, head tilting down so he could look at her, but then her hands were cupping his face, the tremor of her fingers as they slipped between the strands of his hair making his stomach jump and lurch. Theo didn’t pull back as his left arm curled around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, the fingers of his right hand catching around the nape of her neck, thumb sweeping over her cheek.

Her bag and belongings clattered to the ground once more, and maybe that’s where they just belonged.

Myla tasted like mint and cinnamon, she was all he could smell, hear, feel. Theodore pressed into her lips gently at first, as if he was scared he would break her. She felt so delicate in his arms, he couldn’t think about anything other than her warmth. Her lips were soft against his own, and the amount of times he’d pictured this moment couldn’t compare to how it actually felt.

He hesitated for only a second before deepening the kiss, the gentleness falling away as a fervent sort of desperation reared up inside of him. He could feel how her heart was hammering in her chest through the swell of her breasts as they pressed against him, and Theo kissed her like she was the answer to every prayer he’d ever uttered, as if the taste of her lips needed to be imprinted into his memory, and he only pulled back when his lungs began to burn for oxygen.

Theo’s lips were a tender embrace that melted away the rest of the world and all of her worries, if only for a second or two. The kiss was affectionate in a way that expressed their innermost feelings where all words failed. At first he was careful like she was made of glass and one wrong move would shatter her into millions of pieces. But it only lasted a few seconds in that delicate balance before his arms pulled her closer, nearly lifting Myla off the ground. His mouth pressed deeper into hers, passionate and hungry. His lips tasted like the first glimpse of sunlight over the dark clouds of a thunderstorm, his warmth radiant, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. He was the summer to her winter, the sun in her endless night.

When Theo pulled away her body followed, leaning in further until she had no choice but to sever her lips from his. Their heavy breaths mixed in a cloud of hot air in the small expanse between their mouths. Her lips tingled from the prickles of his scruffy 5 o’clock shadow. Myla’s fingers slowly detangled from his hair as her hands slid down to rest against his chest. "You can’t say shit like that—" her right hand lightly bumped his chest for emphasis "—And not expect a girl to swoon," she chastised him with a playful levity.

Whatever heaviness had weighed on her not a moment before washed away in the hurricane of a kiss that was long overdue. A weightless smile spread across her burgundy smudged lips. Her hand subconsciously found his jaw and the tip of her thumb lightly ran along his bottom lip in a way she imagined someone’s eyes traced another’s mouth, desperate for a second kiss. Myla wanted to do it again, but also knew it was bad enough that she did it in the first place. Their current situation wasn’t the best circumstance to explore whatever pent up feelings she had been repressing.

Reluctantly, she pried herself from his arms, dazed and a bit dizzy from her own impulsiveness. After finding her bearings, she finally pulled Theo’s sweater over her head. Although, to be honest, Myla went from being chilled to wanting to peel off half of her clothing just to feel the cool breeze on her skin. The knitted fabric was thick and hot, but when she moved her head just right it smelled like him: rain, leather, and lavender.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her again. His eyes were wide as he looked down at her, breathing too hard and too fast for the kiss they’d just shared. A small, proud sort of smile tugged his lips upwards. He’d made her swoon? Well, today was turning out to be pretty damn good. "I don’t think that’s the warning you think it is."

Myla’s cheeks flushed to a red that nearly matched her smudged lipstick. She turned her head away slightly, but was unable to wipe the smile that continued to grow across her face. The tips of her fingers, barely visible beneath the cuff of his sweater, gently grabbed his upper arm to brace herself as she stepped back into her heels. His bicep was strong and firm under her touch like the contact made him tense or he was steeling himself to support her, maybe both. Her already racing heart fluttered as her mind wondered about… No. Stop that, she told herself as she tried to shake off the thoughts. Myla was already kicking herself for getting swept up in her emotions once already, she needed to rein herself in and focus.

Heat was crawling up the back of his neck, spreading across his cheeks. Theo had to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to pull her back to him, desperate to feel how her body pressed against his own like a missing puzzle piece. Instead, he bent down to pick up all her stuff again. He didn’t feel too bad about dropping it all this time, he'd have thrown it across the yard as hard as he could if it meant she’d kiss him again.

Uncompromised in his masculinity, he put the purse over his shoulder and stepped toward Myla once she’d gotten the sweater on fully. He was gentle as he helped tug the hair that had been caught beneath the fabric free, his fingers ghosting along the side of her neck. Theo liked how she looked with his sweater on, though it was too big for her and she was practically swimming in the fabric. His voice came out huskier than he’d meant it to when he spoke next, hands lingering on her skin. "You’re lucky I have good self control, Angel."

Because if he hadn’t, he’d still be kissing her, everything else be damned. Theo was going to be riding the high of feeling her lips pressed against his own for a long time.

Myla tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth, attempting to bite back the sheepish grin that threatened to grow. "More self control than me, apparently," she replied quietly, laughing at her own inability to remain professional given their current situation. At least one of them had a handle on their emotions, she just never thought it would be Theo who had shit under more control. Crazy times.

Remembering she had been wearing lipstick, Myla slid up the baggy sleeve of the sweater to reveal her own shirt beneath it. She tugged the sleeve over the heel of her hand and wiped the fabric across her mouth, trying her best to remove any smudged make up. "Sorry, I don’t have a mirror," she laughed softly as she took a step toward him. "Let’s not give Tony Stark Jr. another reason to be a dick," she added barely above a whisper as her left hand lightly cupped Theo’s jaw under his chin. She slowly used her sleeve to wipe any lipstick from his mouth. There was no way for her to know if there was anything there or if she made it better… or worse. But she tried.

"I couldn’t care less what he thinks," Theo muttered, raising his own hand to swipe at a small bit of the lipstick that had smudged just under her lip. Would it be wrong to kiss her again? She was sort of in the perfect kissing position, could she blame him if the temptation was so strong? He instinctively leaned in, and then caught himself before he could press their lips together. "...We should go inside soon, or I’ll kiss you again."

Theo took a semi-large step away from Myla, grinning to himself as he rubbed a hand over his own lips in an aggressive manner to try to erase any evidence of their kiss. He didn’t want to, though. He was practically walking on cloud nine, it all felt unreal. How was he supposed to go back in there and pretend none of this had just happened? Though…why had it happened, exactly?

Did Myla…like him? It hadn’t just been because it had been an emotionally charged moment, or had it? Damnit, now he was confusing himself. Maybe kissing her again was the answer, but that could come later. "Are you…feeling better now? I mean, after our talk and after Batgirl’s peptalk?"

Myla laughed softly as he took a step away like she had the plague or something. Her cheeks flushed a bit more at the mention of a second kiss. Maybe it was good that he put a little space between them… Even if she hated it all the same. She tucked loose curls behind her ear before taking a slow step toward him with her hands help up innocently. "I won’t attack you again," she muttered under her breath with a soft chuckle. "Just figured I could… Grab my purse." Her voice trailed off as her hands hesitantly reached up to grab a hold of the strap that rested on his shoulder. She swallowed a lump in her throat as the tips of her fingers brushed his arm as she slowly slipped it free.

She then turned around and searched the soil in the garden behind where she sat earlier, looking for the bat distress button thing. It took her a little bit of time, running her fingers across the dirt, but eventually she felt the familiar prick of the wing and scooped it up. Myla slid it into her bag, then faced him once again with her purse white knuckled in her grasp. "I do feel better," she admitted. "... But not from the talks." The confession fell from her lips before she was able to catch herself. She cleared her throat and awkwardly tapped her thumbs against the purse’s handle.

Well, that filled him with entirely too much unwarranted confidence. Theo’s grin stretched, but he attempted to reign it in. If he’d known the secret to getting Myla in a good mood was to kiss her, he would have been doing it months ago. It wasn’t that she was always in a bad mood, more so that she seemed to have a perpetual rain cloud hanging over her head. He had to work for every smile, every laugh, and he loved it but he also wanted to see it more often.

"Well, just let me know anytime you need extra cheering up." He said, the grin on his lips practically audible in his voice. Theo ran a hand through his hair to distract himself, ruffling his already wild fringe even further. He couldn’t wait to get a shower with some hot water, even if it was in a cheap motel. Anything would be better than the days of cold rivers.

"Don’t think that I’ve forgotten that I haven’t seen you in a week. You’re going to have to tell me what you’ve been doing this whole time after we’re done with this weird meeting." Theo closed the distance between them again, but this time he let his left hand catch one of her own, giving it a soft and reassuring squeeze.

Myla’s smile grew, a hint of white teeth flashing from behind her naked stained lips. Theo’s eagerness to kiss her again sent a nervous jolt up her back. If she had known he would have accepted her making a move so favorably, she might have been impulsive months ago. But, who was she kidding? She could sense he had those feelings for a while between the lingering touches, how excited he was for their meet ups, and the way his heart raced whenever he had to hold her to swing them through the streets of New York. She was more in denial about her own feelings than his… Part of her still was. Her own demons loomed overhead threatening to ruin any speck of light she found and Theo was the sun.

She had a habit of ruining most things in her life. Her lifestyle stripped everything from her… Her job, home, friends… love. Myla had accepted her loneliness, just like her dad had. Redback was a friend she cherished deeply, but she knew that someday, somehow it’d slip through her fingers like everything else. But now he wasn’t just Redback, he was Theo. Knowing the person behind the mask made him more tangible, more real. Her feelings multiplied in a matter of minutes, and that terrified her. It felt like his happiness now rested on her shoulders and she couldn’t even manage her own. She was so… mortal compared to him, with her life on a trainwreck of a downward spiral. If she was smart, she would have kept him at an arm’s length and let him find solace in another’s company.

Kissing him was selfish and she shouldn’t have done it. Her mind kept screaming it on repeat. Yet when Theo’s had squeezed hers, Myla let her fingers slip between his once again, nestling into his grasp like that’s where they belonged.

Fuck. What was she doing?

"Preparing mostly," she finally replied. Not a shred of the turmoil in her mind visible across her face as she smiled, genuinely, clinging greedily to her moment of brief happiness before it faded away. "I had like twenty back up plans if this went south," Myla confessed with a chuckle.

Myla hadn’t pulled away from his hand, hadn’t hesitated for even a second to slip her fingers between his, and it felt too much like a piece of himself clicking into place when she did it. A tenseness he hadn’t even recognized drained from his shoulders, his smile turning into something a little softer, a little sweeter. Theo reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time that she was here, safe and beside him, and the knot of tension that was sitting between his shoulder blades eased.

"Back up plans," his tone gave away his own thought process on the ordeal, a little bashful now. "Oh, yeah. I totally had back up plans too, like… So many of them."

Actually, he hadn’t had a single one. It was either he was going to get answers, or he was going to get killed. Theodore had been startled at first by how little he cared about the latter option, death was something that had been looming over his head ever since his dad vanished. Nothing and nowhere felt safe anymore, if it had been a trap it wouldn’t have mattered how he felt about it all.

"We’ll have to uh, share our backup plans after this weird meeting. For scientific purposes, though you should share yours first." He tugged her gently toward the tower’s entrance once more, his thumb absentmindedly sweeping across her knuckles.

Myla laughed softly, knowing full well that he was lying through his teeth. He often did that whenever he wanted to appear smarter, or just make her laugh. Usually the latter. She wasn’t dying to step back into the tower, but she let Theo tug her along regardless. With every step she took a fraction of her smile faded away and the knot of dread twisted tighter in her stomach. She would have preferred to remain in their own little bubble rather than go back inside. But she promised she would see it through.

"That’s not some innuendo is it?" she teased Theo quietly. It wasn’t until the words left her mouth that the full implication of her joke set in and the warm flush climbed up her cheeks again. She cleared her throat and turned her head away slightly. She didn’t know why she said that. Maybe to lighten the shadow that was clouding her mind and weighing on her conscience. It was almost like she was trying to cling to the last few seconds of their moment before it slipped away when they stepped through the doors.

Theo couldn’t help the abrupt and sharp laugh that snapped out of him, his fading smile reappearing almost instantly. He hadn’t been expecting the joke, it came so far out of left field that it could have been a baseball that hit him in the eye. "Well, that depends on if you want it to be an innuendo."

Her eyes widened as she bit on the inside of her cheek. Myla was surprised enough at her own joke, but Theo’s response caught her off guard, making her heart skip a beat and her hand subconsciously twitch against his. She tried to think of a sarcastic response to play it off, but her attention drifted to the farthest recesses of her mind. Thoughts of another stolen kiss, wandering calloused hands… Jesus Christ, Myla, she scolded herself. Her palm started to sweat against his as she struggled to find something to say to fill the silence. "Now’s not the time," was all she could bring herself to say under her breath. It wasn’t a yes… but it wasn’t a no either.

"Later then," Theo chuckled, feeling it was a fair stance on her part but still a little disappointed. Maybe if he threw her purse into the fountain…no, that would just get him a black eye, probably. "Noted, Angel."

He paused just outside the doors, noticing how fast Alfred had worked to clean up the space. No glass crunched underfoot now, it made their soon to be entrance much quieter than it had been before. He found himself pulling her a little closer to his side, until her warmth radiated against him. No matter where things went from there, he was happy she was by his side. They’d been working together so often lately when Myla wasn’t there he felt off kilter, like he had a blind side that only she could fill. That…wasn’t even a pun, she was always there when he needed her and vice versa.

"I’m really glad you’re here. " He blurted out the words before he could stop himself, heat crawling up the back of his neck like a damn spider. "I’m serious, Myla. You’re the only one I…I missed you."

Myla’s heart sank when they hesitated, the uncertainty one pane of glass away. The smile had fallen from her face, replaced with her emotionless stoicism. She let herself be tugged in closer to Theo, quietly reveling in the comfort of his presence and warmth. The dying flutter in her stomach returned like a whirlwind, spinning at the unfinished thought he nearly confessed. She didn’t ask, even if the curiosity would nag at the back of her mind for the entirety of the coming conversations. Her thumb lightly stroked the side of his hand. "I missed you too," she confessed quietly, as if speaking too loud would make it all shatter and come crumbling down.

She sighed softly then reached out with her other hand to pull open the door. Whatever fleeting happiness Myla might have found beyond the tower hit an invisible wall, refusing to cross the threshold into the lobby. She said nothing as she guided them both back through the growing congregation. As she passed them by, she noted two more that joined at some point during her borderline panic attack. One smelled like vanilla and roses, while the other carried a faint metallic scent of coagulated blood.

Before taking her seat, she tenderly pulled her hand from Theo’s wanting to present herself as strong and not dependent on another person for safety or support. She tried to gather her courage as she slowly turned to face everyone in the room. She hated public speaking. No matter how many courtrooms she stood in, Myla was never fully able to master the rise of anxiety and the tremble in her hands that came from standing before a room of people. Her fingers toyed at the cuff of the sweater as she cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention.

"I want to set the record straight… Since I was unwillingly exposed." Myla forced herself to stop fidgeting and dropped her hands to her sides. "My name is Myla Murdock. I’m also known as Hell’s Angel… A no name vigilante from Hell’s Kitchen. I’m sure most of you haven’t heard of me. My father, Matthew Murdock, is…" Her voice trailed off as a reluctant lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow it down and push onward. "Was Daredevil. He’s been missing for over a year. I answered the signal because I thought… maybe it was him. Obviously I was wrong."

Myla turned her attention directly toward Jim for a long silent moment. "My secret identity isn’t to protect me. I don’t care if people know who I am. It’s to protect my loved ones from the consequences of my actions," she clarified, in case someone like him couldn’t grasp the concept. "But if something happens to someone I love because of your loose lips—" her mom, Uncle Foggy… Theo, "—I’ll fucking kill you," she whispered the threat like the slow release of venom. Each word was the sharp prick of her fangs digging in deeper. It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. God be damned and take her soul straight to hell for all she cared. Without another word, Myla slowly returned to her seat on the sofa and let her head fall slightly to hopefully turn attention away from her as soon as possible.

Theodore’s hands had slipped into his pockets as Myla pulled away, making no move to reclaim her hand, though there was an air of faint smugness about him as he watched her give a threatening speech all while wearing his sweater. The sight alone made him feel a little too hot below the belt, mouth going dry as he realized Myla was scary and that was fucking hot. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his sudden indecent thoughts.

"For the record, no one ever knew to connect the name Parker with Spider-Man so I’m not really sure what you were looking to accomplish." His eyes flickered to Jim, unwillingly parting with his view of Myla. He’d tried to work out why he’d done it, what he could have gained from it, but hadn’t been able to sort it out. Was it just first meeting jitters? Or was the man just an asshole? Hard to tell. "Obviously I don’t have to worry about anything happening to my dad, but I still have my mother and I intend to protect her as long as I’m able to. Blabbing my name doesn’t really help with that, so let’s jot that down for the future."

He followed Myla to the couch without another word, turning his back pointedly on Jim. It was a shitty way to make connections, and the entire thing left a bitter taste in Theo’s mouth as he remembered how she’d gone rigid and cold with fear beside him. That wasn’t something he could forgive easily.

Once Myla felt like eyes were off her, she let herself relax, if only slightly. She crossed her right leg over her left and sunk back into the leather cushions, a little less concerned with her usual pristine presentation. Her hand, with an almost subconscious magnetism, slipped beneath Theo’s arm and into his lap, seeking his own hand. Regardless if she looked a little more at ease, she still sought the comfort and safety that came from his touch. She had her moment of angered bravery. If possible, she wanted to slip into the background and silently observe.

Their hands clicked together in a way that felt too practiced and natural for this being like, the third time they’d held hands. Theo realized, with a jolt of clarity, that he had never felt so whole and secure like he did with Myla. It was a strange feeling, foreign and confusing, but he didn’t shy away from it fully. It was something he’d have to think about, the uncertainty that she felt the same was all consuming, but it was a start.

^{interactions ....|.... magni ............... mentions ....|.... jim & everyone else in the lobby ............... collabs ....|.... @Sleepy Tani}