SonnetNSunbeam

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

G L I T Z & G L A M

SDN California Gala

_{Interactions-
Blackstar (@cosmiccowgirl) | James | Lightning Girl (@FourtyTwo) | | Ikret (@Ezekiel) | Hattrick (@BigPapaBelial)}
Lavish - Twenty One Pilots

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@FourtyTwo @cosmiccowgirl
"Well, Asteroid, that depends how many vodka martinis you and I drink. Who knows, maybe it'll be more than a duet!" Lightning Girl's tone was way, way more sultry than she probably made it out to be, realising Blackstar was probably looking at a frightened horror, like a cat looking almost alarmed at its owner.
"Like Blackstar might join in and sing too, I mean, if we keep drinking champagne!" She chuckled, trying to wriggle her way out of that one, leaning across and turning up the stereo in the back a little bit as if to mask that.
"Ahaha!" Blackstar registered her name and laughed automatically, though she was immediately horrified by the robotic sound of her own voice. Quickly clearing her throat, her smile was a little more tense than she'd like as she added, "Ah, hah, uh -- I don't drink, so, uh, it'll be a hard sell."

From his place beside her, Jet pointedly swivels his foot to knock into Alaine’s. “Ahh- I’ll drink enough for the pair of us.” Something burns in his chest at the mention of them as a pair, and he’s thankful for the darker lighting in the limo.

“LG- I’ve got some deep cuts I’m willing to pull out of retirement for a special occasion.” The grin on his face is huge- a thrill in his eyes rarely seen.

”Boy bands- Britney- Destiny’s Child. It’s a special occasion.” It’s the last suggestion that gets the happiest lilt. ‘Bills, Bills, Bills” went platinum with his old crew. They’d had parts. It was a whole thing, he’s pretty sure he remembers the placements of the music video dance moves.

@Ezekiel
Before they reach the red carpet, Jet directs his attention to one of the other people in the limo. His eyes narrow on the exquisite dress that Ikret is wearing. It’s- immaculate, maybe familiar? And it’s also something that Jet feels uncomfortable drawing attention to in such an enclosed space. If those aren’t real diamonds, he needs to meet that counterfitter and reconsider this whole hero thing. ”Love the ostrich feathers on your gown- they really take it to the next level.”

Game recognizes game, the ostrich feathers aren’t quite calling out how expensive that dress is. But he hopes that he gets a point for being able to recognize the artistry. If she says something positive, he’d widen his eyes and make a sparkle motion with his fingers in her direction. A silently mouthed ‘insane’. If it doesn’t go well, he redirects his attention elsewhere.

---

Jet’s been on a red carpet before. He’d been in two Getty images photos, and that was enough for him. They get out of the limo relatively quickly, Blackstar and Lightning Girl towards the beginning of the group. Alaine’s practically all but running down the carpet into the building. It’s enough of a jog that he’s unable to keep up, getting caught in the crowd with Hattrick and James.

Asteroid wasn’t prepared for the cameras. Outfit wise- he was prepared. Gold and red watch tucked in his sleeve, but every other inch of gold in plain view. He slipped the watch farther up his arm with his powers- not willing for it to even be perceived by the general public. Part of him thought about leaving it in his locker when they made it to the limo. The idea of being out with something this precious to him felt like a sort of personal betrayal.

A big flash brings him back to reality where he’s standing closest to Hattrick, LG, and James. He searches for a social parachute cord in the people around him.

@BigPapaBelial
”These folks are stealing your thunder man.” Asteroid has to shout above the noise to Hattrick, it's maybe a little too loud at first. He offers the man an arm bump as they move up the carpet. All along, trying to find creative ways to look a little less like himself. ”Do you like this kind of thing?”

Tilting his chin too far up, scratching his face, turning to someone to say something nearly useless to them. They make their way up the carpet, and Jet watches Lightning Girl morph in the spotlight. She stands different, her shoulders lifting. The energy around her shifts, and there is so much current, it feels like hundreds of tadpoles just darting around her.

It’s sensorily blinding to him, and he finds himself exceedingly grateful that a larger gravitation signature he’s familiar with is close. Hattrick. He flanks Hattrick all the way down the red carpet- stepping in and out of photos of course at his request. But he’s nearby- keeping an eye on LG and James. Looking for context on what to do next in each of their movements.

@FourtyTwo

"I suppose it's how the other half live. I think that champagne bottle cost more than my rent." James commented dryly, knowing Asteroid was made of money, at least, he had been in his past life, current circumstances being different. He let Asteroid come back to him, before moving on, the big doors wide open, and the lobby leading straight to the ballroom.

”I think it might be two months of mine.” He follows James into the lobby and then deeper before he responds once more. ”I’ve never really gotten along with this kind of wealth, if I’m honest.” Then Jet’s second guessing his statement. Just how much did James know about Jet? Not Asteroid. But Jet.

”Just how much about me is in that file folder on your desk?” His jaw is a little tight- but his tone is light, the edge of a laugh, like he’s telling a joke. Part of him is curious. The other parts of him are unsettled by not knowing exactly how much James knows about him, his life. Sure prison and his offenses are in there. But what else?

Whatever was in there- wasn’t damning him enough in James’ eyes to pull him below whatever line could be unforgivable. Not if he was advocating for Jet to move out of the Phoenix program.

---

@FourtyTwo
They make their way into the Gala and Jet’s taking in the decor, the seating, the people walking around with hors d’oeuvres on little metal platters. It’s a lot, and it’s even more with the woman standing beside him practically radiating electricity.”How many hors d’oeuvres do you think I can eat before they ask me to stop.” He barely finishes the statement before he’s lifting a hand to hide a smirk.

That’s not really Jet’s style. But it is definitely something he wouldn’t be above to get out of doing some of the schmoozing that he witnessed some of the other heroes already partaking in.

It’s at this moment that he feels Blackstar’s center of gravity shift massively unexpectedly.

Does he have an exact read on all of his team's gravity signatures in the crowd? Yes.
Is it exhausting? Yes.
Was not doing it even more mentally exhausting? Indubitably.

As the change happens, he feels the static from his conversational partner. It makes him a second slower in calculating what is happening. It’s slow enough that Blackstar’s form becomes visible a few feet ahead of him- and she’s saved a glass from absolutely soaking Ikret.

Jet’s stunned for a minute, his pulse racing. Before he whispers- ”Nice save, Starshine.”

---

At some point Jet gets up from the table to get another flute of champagne. When he returns to his seat, he finds a few chairs at their table open. It’s at this moment that Technocrat, pulls up a chair.

"Ah....Asteroid, is it? You probably know me already. Lucas Aster. Technocrat. I kinda run things in Hollywood. Liberty said I should talk to you. Apparently you backed up Blackstar on a social media job that went viral. Not a bad way to get yourself known around these parts. People talk. Even small branches get recognition." His grin was one that was punchable, full of confidence, extending a hand out.

At first, Jet’s put off by the formal introduction. But as Lucas makes his way through it, he begins to win Jet over momentarily. ”Yeah- the bungee jumping stunt. That really turned out well. Great idea from Blackstar- really.” The comment about him being ‘backup’ to Blackstar is what opens Jet to listening rather than assuming he's full of himself.

"I could have sworn you're....you're someone's son I know. Dad had this religious guy who he had as a friend and he looked like you. He was a character...anyway. I wouldn't have made it as a Phoenix, so I always am impressed when someone.....defies the odds. You have to have powers, so it's a good thing I'm on the right side of the law. Sounds like they'll make you one soon so you can be, huh. Put you in the real big leagues. Do the real work." It felt like he almost was talking down to him, but that tinge of something held him back from brushing off the other hero and pretending he had other things to do. Lucas was just trying to piece together why he knew him.

Whatever smooth conversational road Lucas paved out of the parking lot did not extend past the gate. Son. Dad. Religious guy. Looked, like, you. Jet’s blood runs cold, a sweat springing up on his lower back. It’s a brush of a topic, but Asteroid’s walls are back up immediately. The grin on Technocrat’s face is starting to look different in the light. Who is this guy? ”Oh- really-?” he doesn’t mean for it to sound strangled. But he tries to hide it behind his champagne flute.

The grin stretches further in Asteroid’s mind, and a shadow creeps across his face. ‘Do the real work.’ What the hell was that supposed to mean? As if working in Claremont was the issue? Or was it just the assumption that James wouldn’t dispatch him to anything complicated? Or dangerous?

Vignettes’ of old women, social media influencers, and his broken battered body next to LG and Blackstar kicking clown ass- filter through his mind.

Lucas was an asshole, but maybe he was right. Jet wasn’t doing anything that important at Claremont. Doubt curdles his stomach, and he sets his glass on the table. He finds Blackstar’s gravity signature and examines it over and over. Comforting himself with nearly imperceptible math in his mind.

It’s the only thing that keeps his panic under wraps. He’s sure without his mask, he’s already exhibiting some telltale signs of anxiety.

"So enough about what you've heard about me. What do you think about all of this?"

Jet puts on a brave face and answers with the tape recorder lodged in his throat. The answer his father would have wanted him to say at one of Lucas’ father's parties.

”I find it a bit loud. What are we doing other than spending enormous amounts of money, anyway? Feels like we're showing off here.” The next sentence is trapped behind his teeth. Something this, something that, sins, greed. Jet had only had the displeasure of saying it a few times. But it was there on the edge of his tongue, unsaid, but also not forgotten.

Besides, he still means it. But, not remotely in the same way. Instead of searching for an admission of their sins. Jet's thinking about all the kitchens he scrubbed dishes in to feed himself after he got out the first time. Very different motivations.

He tilts his head at Lucas, the light striking his features differently. Maybe he and Lucas had met before. It’s that realization that gets him to pivot the conversation to something a little less personal, away from something Lucas could connect more dots on. ”Where'd you get that suit?”

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

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Friday - 11:34am - Lunch

(( Collab : @SonnetNSunbeam/Asteroid & @cosmiccowgirl/Blackstar, [various] ))

Alaine was out of ideas. She couldn’t call John, it was pointless by then – only a couple of hours until the end of the shift, and there was no way he could find her something that quickly. She didn’t even know where he was, he might’ve been on the other side of the world and totally unable to help her even if he wanted to. Which was debatable.

She’d searched up some dress shops and clothing stores but had only managed to stop by one so far; but she'd never had a body that fit right in un-tailored, standard sizes... aaaand nice dress stores couldn't tailor your dress for you in an hour or two. You had to set aside, like, a month for that. Or so she understood.

Obviously she was getting a little nervous about the situation, but there were still a few stores she might be able to try.

Alaine let out a heavy breath, touching down on the roof of some apartment building and perching there a moment. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out her phone – the real one, not the burner. She didn’t have Jet’s number on the burner, and she continued to be mildly horrified at herself for just casually carrying it around because of that.

Unlocking it, her gloved thumbs pulled up their texts. There weren’t too many – she’d been hesitant to message too often, for fear of becoming annoying.

Jet hadn't given her too much back. And he texted like he talked. With punctuation and everything. What he did send were a few random pictures.

Above the blinking line in her message box, was a grainy photo of two mallard ducks in a fountain. It'd been sent a little while ago.

Hey – you wanna get lunch together?

She sent the text off without letting herself worry too much. Yeah, she genuinely wanted to hang out if he felt like it, but maybe she had ulterior motives. She had the impression Jet knew what he was talking about when it came to clothes – he might let her pick his brain a bit, ask for suggestions…?

Alaine shook her head at herself slightly. Her lack of a formal dress wasn’t his problem… And she’d already literally googled dress shops. What was she hoping for, magic?

A word bubble appeared and disappeared on the screen a few times, a response popping into view. Short and sweet.

Thought you'd never ask. Any ideas?

Alaine absently scuffed one heel at the edge of the building’s roof as she thought for a minute, then typed up a quick suggestion.

There’s a food truck at June Vail Park?

Otw

Upon getting a confirmation text from Jet, Alaine tried to regulate her suddenly-quicker heart rate. She’d seen a flyer for the food truck at SDN, they were giving discounts to heroes. Normally she didn’t really even take lunch breaks at all, but if she was going to ask Jet to come hang out with her during lunch then she’d really better have a lunch.

She got to the food truck in record time – flying came in handy – and took a moment to peruse the menu. Seemed like it was just classic American stuff, cheeseburgers and the like.

When she spotted Jet she immediately perked up, subconsciously floating about an inch off the ground. Jet didn't notice her at first, but then his posture straightened. A lazy wave raised as he jogged closer.

“I’m buying,” she announced, before he could even say hello. She followed it up with a grin, adding, “And I’m not just offering because we get a hero discount, promise.”

Jet laughs. “Oh yeah? What makes me so special.” He offers her a fistbump. Inside the suit he locks down the urge to offer a hug.

Alaine caught herself before she just put her hand over his fist like a weirdo, gently returning the fistbump. “Well, your winning personality, of course,” she responded lightly, before tacking on with a chuckle, “And the fact that you’ve paid for me twice already, so. It’s only fair.”

Jet’s face gets hot under his mask- completely knocked off guard by her teasing him. “Okay- okay- I guess I concede.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I hope they've got fries.” He bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to let out some of his nervous energy.

Once they had their food, Alaine offered Jet her hand, her bottled water and cheeseburger held in the other. She didn’t explain herself, but when he took her hand she lifted off the ground and brought him with her, careful not to move too fast. It's gentle but she feels the tug of his gravity observations. The act of observation making something more quantum exist inexplicably.

There was a gazebo farther in the park, she’d seen it on the way in, and there were already too many people around the food truck eyeing the two heroes curiously; reaching the gazebo, she carefully lowered them down – but landed on the flat roof of the little building instead.

“How’s your shift going?” she asked as her boots touched the roof, and she gingerly let go of his hand once he had his footing as well. “You ready for tonight?”

Jet fights through the bite of his burger to speak. “Not really, I'm debating what color jewelry to wear. I've already finished my clothing though- I had to hem the jacket sleeves and pants. You?” He pops a fry into his mouth, with his left hand. On his too bright phone screen he navigates to Rey's chat on his phone. There is a photo of him swimming in an oversized black jacket. He turns the phone clearly towards Alaine. Beneath the photo, Rey's response is visible.

Looking like the hat man over there. 🤣

He swipes down and a relatively well tailored black suit coat with red embellishments appears.

Sipping her water, Alaine leaned over slightly to look at the screen turned in her direction, despite really not needing to. A small smile curled her lips at the oversized jacket and Rey’s response, which she couldn’t help but see; what was visible of her expression turned to interest at the second image, and she tilted her head a little. “Ooh, that’s perfect.”

Ah, he’d look so handsome in that. Those were her favorite colors too, black and red – she was getting the feeling he liked those particular colors as well.

She blinked, leaning back slightly and correcting,
“I mean – it looks really nice.”

Having a bite of her cheeseburger to stall, she pretended to be contemplating her own reply. Though, when she spoke again, she wasn’t quite addressing the question yet.

“You should wear gold. Gold is so pretty with black and red like that.” Alaine might not have been the most fashion-forward of her sisters, but she did know how to pair colors.

“I wear a lot of gold jewelry so I can never tell if I'm just biased on a decision like this.” He brings a hand to his lips, thumb idly stroking his bottom lip.

She cleared her throat lightly, glancing out over the park from their elevated spot. It was hard to get out a coherent response when her mind couldn’t make itself up on whether to be honest or just keep her worries to herself.

“I’m never ready for social events,” she settled on finally, knowing she needed to say something and thus opting for a joke. Until she blurted immediately after, “But, uh, no, I don’t have a dress. Yet.”

That was a pretty big “yet”, given the fact they were probably… four, three hours from the point where she’d need a dress? “I kind of forgot about it and I don’t have anything on hand. But!” She shrugged. “I’ll probably have a little more free time between dispatches here, it’s been pretty slow. I can probably find something.”

Alaine was trying to make it sound like as little of a problem as possible, and she was quick to change the subject. “That’s so handy, though, that you can do your own tailoring. I wish I was better at that sort of thing, but I nearly killed myself just trying to stitch up our kid this week.” She wiggled her gloved left hand and the bandaids hidden on her fingers underneath, grinning again – “our kid” referencing the black and red bear she’d presented him with earlier.

The Asteroid mask looks strange when Jet's mouth is hanging open. Which it does the entire time she is talking. “It's cutting it pretty close, do you-” he pauses trying to hash out how many ways he could offer help. “Want some help figuring that out?” Jets not even sure how he's gonna help. He just wants to and that's enough for him to offer.

“Oh, nah, no, it’s okay,” Alaine began automatically, ignoring the fact that she had literally considered the whole point of lunch being asking for his help when she texted. “Really, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m a master procrastinator, ha, I do this all the time.”

As her old school projects could attest, she wasn’t new to waiting until the last minute to do something. It had always turned out fine… uh, academically. She’d never really pushed things so far with social stuff. …It’d still probably be fine. Honestly, just coming clean about it to Jet was making her feel a little less daunted.

“It’ll be fine,” Alaine said again with another shrug, as if trying to will a “fine” outcome into existence.

He takes a moment to catalog the fabric stash at his apartment and Rey's house, in his mind. Ideas about a Red and Black dress come up first. Something elegant, cinched fabrics. The thought of the dress hugging Alaine's curves makes him swear under his breath. He clears his throat- “I might be able to hit up some old connections- or-”

Inspiration strikes Jet like lightning. A memory of his mother, in a dress slightly too big for her at one of his father's business engagements. Shimmering fabrics, a deep color. It's moments like this when he wishes he could just pick up the phone and call her. Mrs. gilded cage herself.

But he just got this burner phone and he really didn't want to get another.

“My- mother-” he chokes on the word a little bit “has maybe the perfect dress for this. It's just a little big on her, she's- about 4 inches shorter than you. It was beautiful, but I don't think she's worn it in probably a decade. But that woman never throws anything out.” A plan is starting to sketch itself out in his mind.

Alaine looked over in surprise, staring at Jet wide-eyed behind her mask. Was he really suggesting she borrow a dress of his mom’s? Wasn’t that, like, girlfriend-of-three-years-that-your-mom-adores-like-her-own-daughter level borrowing? She almost felt shy. “Oh– well, uh…” Honestly, how did she answer? It would help her out a lot…

He's wondering how much worse her closet has gotten in the years since he's been home. There was never time for him to learn the gravity signatures of home before they'd shipped him off to juvee and then finally prison. In fact, he never posted bail. His father had refused to be associated with a criminal, didn't matter that Jet was his son. Jet suppresses a shiver, and then continues to explain.

“Okay here's what I'm thinking- on the way back from our last calls, you run back to my place and grab my clothes. I'll sneak over to my parents, slip in, grab the dress, slip out. Then we can get dressed in the locker room at the office.” When it comes out of his mouth he realizes just how reductionist he's being about the situation. This would likely be one of his hardest break-ins yet, and it was into his own childhood home.

Great. Yeah. He can do this.

She was staring at him again, half-eaten burger in one hand and water in the other like she’d completely forgotten about them.

“I mean – are you sure?” Alaine finally replied, remembering the food and drink in her hands just long enough to switch both over to one hand, using the other to reach up and pull the top half of her mask down. She felt like she needed him to see her eyes.

“Look, if– if you’re really, absolutely sure that’s okay–” Okay with his mom, yeah, but… okay for him, too. He hadn’t ever talked about his family, but he’d been open enough about Rey… which made her think his relationship with his family might be complicated. “–Honestly, that would really help me out.”

She paused a moment, then added, giving him the most meaningful look she could manage, “You really don’t have to, though. If it doesn’t work out for any reason, really, don’t sweat it. Also, though, if you end up needing a hand or anything… just let me know.”

Alaine just gazed at him for a second, whether he was meeting her eyes or not. Wow. This guy… this guy. She didn’t know what to think, but everything she was feeling was very warm and fuzzy.

Jet took his cue from Alaine and pulled his mask off. He glanced around and felt pretty secure that no one was paying attention to them up here. At least at the moment. His eyes are just a little watery, but it's hard to tell what from. Adjustment of the light without his mask? Probably.

“If it doesn't work out, I'll still show up with something.” Quick as lightning he reaches out with his gravity to identify her measurements.

He's made it through his burger by the time they've finished scheming and he takes a moment to sip his drink quietly and just spend some time in her company. “This was really nice Bee, thanks for the invite.”

She huffed out a little laugh, tugging her mask up into place again. “Thanks for coming, Louie.”

“Do you usually get carry out for lunch?” He crumples his trash up and sweeps the crumbs off the edge of the gazebo’s roof.

“Ha, no,” Alaine replied, grinning widely. It was an ambiguous truth, which she’d always thought she was pretty good at. Of course, if one pieced together the fact she never brought a lunch to work and that she didn’t usually get carry out for lunch…

Jet filed that into a different file folder. One for after the emergency of the gala. He reaches slowly and rests his hand atop hers for a moment. “I should get going, James is dispatching me.”

Her hand moved without her brain’s permission, turning over to grab his briefly. She could hear that beep of connection in her earpiece and knew she was probably about to get handed another dispatch too.

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.” Her fingers tightened around his fractionally, the lightest of squeezes – then she made herself let go, giving him a small smile. She stepped towards the edge of the roof, getting ready to take off herself but pausing to add, “Hey – be careful, okay?”

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R E D S M E A R E D O N T H E W A L L

Road Manor - Sewers

_{Mentions-
| James l (@FourtyTwo) ||}

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James lets them know they're going to have a touchpoint before the day is over. He's coming back from his last dispatch of the day, and he's tucked a set of civies into a small bag he's carrying with him.

Tossing glances in every direction, his finger twitches and the manhole cover in front of him bursts from the ground. Sewer steam puffs out around it. When it clears, he scales the ladder inside and as soon as he's cleared the opening, the cover clatters shut.

The boots on his feet make a familiar sound against the debris and gravel at the bottom. When he turns his head he reaches up to turn on the flashlight on his motorcycle helmet. He has to fight a recoil at the memory of his helmet smashed and broken on pavement.

So instead of relying on light- he relies on his memory and his gravity to keep from falling into the sewage. Once a little ways in, he swaps into civies and stashes his uniform so that he can change before his meeting with James. He's across town very quickly this way- not having to worry about grades in elevation or cameras tracking him.

About two blocks from his father's estate, he scrambles up and out of the hole. It's here that he throws his net out and is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff to analyze. So he has to get closer. Swearing, he ducks back into the sewer and pushes through his better judgement.

Before he knows it, he’s lifting the manhole cover right behind the property. He'd go to the one directly in the wine cellar but even Jet's not that ballsy. He wonders at what his father might actually do at this point. Sure this is entering- but is he breaking anything if he flips the lock with his powers and no one is wiser?

Jet's pulse hammers in his chest at the thought- would he go back to prison? Would his mother cover for him this time? Black spots haze the edges of his vision.

B A C K S L I D E

He's barely 16 again, standing in court- his father standing in the back of the room. A ten year sentence with possibility for probation handed down like it was a mercy. For an accident. The horrified look on his mother’s face. The- glint- of evil in his father's eyes. He spent years convincing himself it was the trick of the light- but with every unanswered letter- each day without any supporting funds in prison- he grew to understand the depth of his hatred.

Or at least he thought he did. Then he was served a notice by the same lawyer that had failed to represent him fairly. Mr. Beck was a round man, with tiny spectacles, and short stature. Years later Jet might call him sleezy. “I'm sorry kiddo-” normally Jet would've snarled at the man, but he was so torn down by the entire experience he was barely talking at that point. A boy with a buzzed head, dark purple bags under his eyes, that wouldn't make eye contact with his own lawyer. “Your father wanted to make sure you were delivered this paperwork and that you signed this acknowledgement of separation from the-” the lawyer stumbled through it “-from the Road family proper. They feel your powers are an indication of your commitment to another- another family- one of evil. Jesus-” the lawyer stands up tossing a file folder across the table at him.

Jet never saw that man again. But he never stopped seeing the words he delivered. Words that were carved into every surface imaginable- haunting him. Sometimes written in blood on tile after a brawl in the bathroom over resources. Scratched into the mirror in the morning. On the back of his eyelids, every, single, night.

He's shaking, holding onto the ladder by the time he comes back to himself. What is he doing right now? Maybe he can find Alaine a gown somewhere else. Alaine. Bee. Blackstar. Starshine. She deserves a beautiful gown- and- he wants to tell his mom about her.

So Jet does the unimaginable. He pulls himself out of the sewer, dusts his pants off, and walks around to the front of the house. A large wrought iron fence, embellished defensive spikes reaching toward the sky. A flip of the lock and he's marching up the front walk right up to the front door. Four loud knocks.

His mother answers the door- because he knew she would. Mr Roads is never home. His mom bursts into tears and ushers him inside the door. She fusses momentarily, but he's able to reassure her after a bit of coercion.

Inside her closet, presumably a place with fewer recording devices, he tells her about a special girl. One that's driving him crazy and somehow keeping him sane. With ocean eyes and a kind smile. His mother hugs him and he has to laugh to keep himself from crying out at the rib pain. She gives him three dresses to choose from and Jet is pretty sure he knows which one she'll choose.

They arrange their next meeting, which is way sooner than is probably advisable. Then he gives her the call line to SDN just in case his father flies off the handle at him being there. Hopefully he won't even notice.

Jet leaves out the backdoor and carries the choices back to Alaine. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest.

---

---

Alaine had at least remembered to text Jet for his apartment number; she remembered the building, of course. She’d tried not to, but she couldn’t help picking it out when she flew over that side of town. And now that she knew what floor he was on, well. She’d probably be remembering that too.

Was that creepy of her? Kind of, maybe, but like – unintentionally. She just remembered stuff.

She touched down on the roof of the building; the door up there was locked, but that wasn’t much trouble for someone who could just melt through it with cosmic energy. Not that she was going to do that, of course.

Jet also told her which window was unlocked in case of emergency. It was a mid-sized window so she didn't have any problems slipping inside.

Jet’s apartment immediately had Alaine feeling at ease, though that might’ve just been because it looked like someone actually lived there. She stood still for a moment upon entering, taking it in – wow. A couch. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she’d ever actually seen a couch? She’d just been at work or in some couch-less apartment, or maybe running to a grocery store, 24/7 for the past… while. That and the small TV were practically luxury to her after living in barebones rooms for so long.

And the ceiling. Red. That was unique. Did the apartments come that way, or had Jet done that? She liked it. The way the afternoon sun looked on it was perfect.

Dragging her gaze down, the sunlight caught on something else – a fishtank. Alaine’s face lit up and she bounced over, bending down to wave in from a respectful distance.

“Hi!” she greeted, grinning at the goldfish floating around inside. “You’re Ducky, yeah? Nice to meet you. I’m Alaine. Or Bee. Or Blackstar. Whatever.”

The goldfish seemed to be looking at her, but she wasn’t 100% sure. Alaine shuffled a little closer, dropping her voice. “Has Jet talked about me at all? I mean, I guess we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks – but that’s like half a month, right?”

Ducky’s fins waved slowly back and forth. Alaine shrugged. “Ah, you’re right, I’m crazy. Sorry. You look great, by the way, I love goldfish. Okay, I’ll leave you to it…”

She straightened up, glancing around and reminding herself to get back on track. Suit. Where was it…? She spotted what she assumed was a closet, walking over and opening the door to peek in.

“Ooh,” she mumbled to herself as flipping the light on revealed a walk-in closet; she wouldn’t have known it was carefully organized at a first glance, but she could tell everything seemed to be squared away. A bit of blue caught her eye – she thought she recognized that jacket he’d told her about two weeks ago, when she gave him a lift from the bar.

Unable to resist, Alaine reached out and touched the sleeve lightly. She bet he looked nice in it. And she missed having her own favorite articles of clothing.

She shook her head slightly, getting back on track again. Ah, there was the suit. She went to retrieve the ensemble, admiring Jet’s handiwork up close. And… jewelry? Maybe she should grab some for him.

A little more searching around – respectfully, of course – and she found a couple of boxes that both held gold. She wasn’t sure why there were two different boxes, but she assumed it was just an overflow situation. And she wasn’t sure which items Jet might want, specifically, but…

After some deliberation, she’d finally picked out a handful of things. Maybe more than was necessary, but that was just so he had options. There was a lovely gold watch with a red face that was literally the perfect match to his suit, so she was sure to grab that and tuck it, along with the other accessories, very carefully into one of the inner pockets of her jacket. It zipped up so she’d be sure not to lose anything, and Alaine retraced her footsteps to make sure she left everything just the way she’d found it.

Suit and shoes in hand and jewelry in pocket, she gave Ducky a little wave and said bye, then ducked out of the apartment.

---

James' voice took Alaine out of her thoughts; she'd just touched back down on the balcony and strolled into SDN, Jet’s suit held in her arms – hopefully non-conspicuously. People might just assume it was whatever she was wearing for the night… if they didn’t notice the men’s shoes. She was on her way through the office and down to the locker rooms when James’ voice made her pause.

"Nice one, Blackstar. We should probably chat about it properly, but you are on fire, given how that shift went, and SAR couldn't speak highly of you enough. Like, check the leaderboard. I'm not a big fan of it, but, scores don't lie."

Blackstar blinked -- not that he could see it under her mask -- and stopped to look at the board he indicated. She hadn't even thought about that thing, much less glanced that direction, since she started working. It seemed James wasn't just messing with her though; her name was up higher than quite a few others. Even Lightning Girl.

She probably should've felt proud of herself. Instead she just felt her stomach turn over queasily. What good was a leaderboard when the people she really wanted to think she was doing a good job didn't think so? Her family didn't even know what she was doing, who she was. And John -- she was pretty sure John was doubting she was as in-control as she said she was, and that was the big thing he was always insisting on. Stay in control. Who knows what might happen if you let these powers get the upper hand. You always have to be in control.

"It might not last forever, but honestly, end of month bonus will be very tidy if you keep this rate up by month end. SDN is pretty good at looking after people, not sure if you read it in your contract, but performance bonuses are sweet. Even if you're new."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Well--" No, she hadn't read her contract. John had told her to just take it and sign it, so she did. "Ha, I'll try to keep it up, then."

She could feel him looking at her. Alaine glanced back James' way and found, yet again, her instinct was right; he looked like he was studying her. She couldn't read the expression on his face.

What did he see? Was he suspicious? That couldn't be normal, for someone only a couple of weeks in to be second on the branch leaderboard. Right? Did he think she was a plant or something? John hadn't told her what exactly he'd slapped together to be condensed for her personnel file. Some stunts he'd had her do in her new suit to look hero-y, that was in there she knew, but what else?

What was James thinking? It was driving her mildly insane. What if he knew about other incidents, seemingly unrelated to her at first, but now the similarities were appearing? She wished she could read minds, just to make sure he wasn't putting pieces together. Surely he wasn't, though. He couldn't. Unless he could. Unless he was. Unless he did. Did he know?

The stars flickered warily at the corners of her eyes. She could feel the color draining from her face, so she was glad the majority of said face was covered.

"I-I'm sure it's just beginner's luck, though," Blackstar tacked on, both to try and explain it away and to lower any expectations he might be forming. She cleared her throat lightly and tried to act as if her mouth hadn't gone dry, offering James a small smile that she hoped didn't look nervous.

She was going to try to say something else to derail the topic but a little furball suddenly appeared and trotted over to her. Alaine shut her mouth, going very still as she watched Felix approach; when he flopped himself against her boots, some of the tension in her body visibly relaxed.

"Aww. He likes you. I think he knows who brings him the best supplies. He was off his face earlier. Super cute."

As James spoke again she bent down, carefully scooping the kitten up with one hand and loosely holding him against her chest. Felix bonked the top of his head on the underside of her chin and an involuntary little smile tugged at her lips.

"...Yeah. I know where to get the good stuff," she joked lightly, gloved fingers scratching around Felix's ears before migrating under his chin. His purring intensified and he stretched his neck out to prolong the scritching. “Yeah? Yeah…”

Her voice went high-pitched, Southern drawl growing a little more pronounced with the babytalk. “Ain’t that right, lil’ guy? Yeah? Auntie Bee knows whatcha like. I know what all the animals like, I’m an animal person. I used to have a–”

She stopped, catching herself and remembering she was in the office still; giving James a sheepish grin, she shrugged and gave Felix one more little stroke before stepping over to reluctantly but gently deposit him back on the consultant-dispatcher’s desk.

“Well. I’m glad he’s happy,” she said, switching back to her usual voice and addressing James. “And, uh – thanks for the heads-up about the leaderboard. I’d better go get ready for this gala thing, though – guess I’ll see you in thirty?”

Or twenty-five, she was cutting it kind of close. With that she straightened up, gave James a little salute, cast one more hesitant glance back at the leaderboard, then turned to head down to the locker rooms.

Making it down, she carefully hung up Jet’s suit; she didn’t know much about nice clothes, but she did know suits needed to stay flat or they’d wrinkle up. She didn’t know how fast said wrinkling happened, but the way her mom used to fuss about it she’d think it happened in mere seconds.

_{Interactions-
| James l (@FourtyTwo) ||}

---

He took the dress down into the sewer with him.

That- was probably a choice, but it was the safest way he could figure to check if he was being tailed. He held the clothes up with gravity as he swapped back into his uniform in his original spot. Then he hightailed it back to the office. He hung the gown in the locker room in a stall. Looking it over once, he straightened it on its hanger before locking the stall from the inside and then basically running up to the cube farm.

He passed Blackstar on his way in, mouthing to her ‘locker room’, before pivoting his attention directly to James. He’d probably taken too long of a break- maybe James would say something about that?

"You really gotta learn when to say no to old ladies, Asteroid, I don't need to give you a training course to tell you that....."

Asteroid felt like a dead fish with the dead pan expression under his mask that he didn’t feel the need to police. The events of the rest of the day had thankfully erased the painful memory of an old woman’s heel from his spine. Now- his nerves were revisiting it. Ouch.

He tinted his response with a lighthearted laugh- ”Yeah I do seem to get an inequitable amount of calls with elderly though. Would my dispatcher happen know anything about that?” Jet’s head tips and his shoulders shake just slightly from laughter. It’s a very visible display, trying to compensate for his lack of positive facial expressions.

Not only does Jet need this job. Jet- likes this job. Maybe even loves this job. The realization has his stomach dropping to his toes.

"Anyway, keep up the good work, even if that was a miss, can't get 'em all. Diffused the situation at the cost of losing yourself to them, that's what I wrote in the report. Anyway. I'll catch up with you next week about that parole paperwork yeah?"

Okay now his stomach is somewhere beneath the Earth’s crust. The gentle reminder of their previous conversation. Of his conditional employment, and James’ belief and investment in him. Jet feels like he’s about to fall over with the weight of the emotions of the day.

”O-oh yeah!” His voice is uncharacteristically high-pitched so he tries again. ”Let me know if you need anything from me- I really- I really like this job. I’ll see you at the Gala?”

He gives James a thumbs up and hustles over to the locker room after Alaine.

When he rounds the corner to her locker, he calls out- “Hey Bee.” It’s two breathy separated beats.

“Got your suit,” Alaine announced on spotting Jet, motioning to the outfit and smiling as she added, “I love your apartment, it’s so pretty! Ducky says hi, also.”

She put her hands in her jacket pockets before feeling a weird shape on the inner lining and abruptly remembering the rest. “Oh, and– ah, here…”

Alaine removed her hands from the outside pockets and fumbled with her jacket, finding the correct inner pocket and unzipping it to retrieve the articles of jewelry. “I brought some of your jewelry, I just kind of picked what looked like it went with the suit. Wasn’t sure how much you wanted so I probably got too much, but at least you’ve got options?”

Suddenly she was feeling kind of nervous, and she wasn’t sure if it was because her jewelry-selecting skills were about to be judged, because of the chat she’d just had with James, because she was about to have to put on a dress, or because there was a whole gala to attend. Probably a bit of everything.

Jet wants to hug her. Like, arms around shoulders, pull her directly into his arms and just hold her. She remembered jewelry? He holds his hand out to receive it and the world spins under his feet. It’s- perfect. Some of it he would have chosen- some not- but definitely not the watch. Somehow, she’d found the most important accessory he owns.

His gold watch with a red face. It was the watch his mother gave him on his 15th birthday. The one before he was arrested. Before the incident, he never took it off. It was likely the start of his appreciation for gold jewelry.

It was on his person when they booked him. When he walked away from prison, not having anyone to pick him up, he shoved it into his underwear. Terrified that someone would rob him and take the last thing he owned.

There were so many times he nearly hawked it to feed himself. His powers always convinced him that was the wrong decision. Or- reversed it, when necessary. Jet’s banned from a large number of pawn shops in L.A.- not something he’s proud of. But a fact nonetheless.

Suddenly the mask is stifling him and he pulls it off aggressively. His eyes are locked on Alaine’s mask. His eyes are unreasonably soft- he feels tears prick his eyes but gravity keeps the evidence below his eyelids. A fun trick he learned in prison.

The way he starts her name is a slip and slide of syllables- “A-S-Bee, this is perfect. Thank you-” a laugh- “I can only hope I did half as well.” His face splits into a grin as he motions to the changing stall. ”I set them up there. Let me know what you think, you can wear some of the stuff you brought me jewelry wise.”

Alaine felt her heartbeat skip just a little when she caught the way he almost said her real name. She tried to tamp it down, about to assure him that literally whatever he brought was fine, when he caught her off guard by saying she could even wear some of his jewelry.

Oh, he was so sweet. Why’d he have to keep doing that? She couldn’t wear the man’s jewelry, he’d literally already done so, so much for her–

But she couldn’t get the protest out, stuck staring at him from behind her mask as he took the jewelry. The way he was looking at her was making her feel all sorts of ways. She couldn’t even remember how to talk – but she was overcome with the sudden thought that she ought to be hugging him.

“R-Right. Uh – thanks.”It was the best she could do, and with that she offered him a small smile and quickly turned on her heel to go see what this dress from Jet’s mom looked like.

It was stunning. Simple but elegant, off the shoulder, some tulle that seemed to make a sort of trailing cape – and all a beautiful red color that made her eyes happy. Alaine tugged her mask down and her gloves off, starting to reach for it but hesitating.

It looked so nice. And expensive, probably. And, just… not like something she was supposed to be touching. Yikes, when was the last time she’d even worn a dress?

She swallowed her misgivings and powered through, shutting her brain off just long enough to strip out of her suit and carefully pull the dress on. She couldn’t see herself properly just by looking down, and there weren’t mirrors in the stalls – she at least managed to get the subtle zipper up in the back, but there was an extra clasp under the ruched neckline that she couldn’t quite get. Maybe she could ask Jet.

Hair down, she did note a strand of red falling forward past her shoulder and remembered her peekaboo dye job; she had an idea of some kind of low bun she might be able to manage to hide it, especially since the ends of the red were fading a bit and looking less vibrant. It was a pretty unique color situation, so she was worried that if she just let everyone see it they’d be able to spot her as a civilian outside of work with no trouble.

Jet turns and grabs his clothes after she enters the stall. With her in the stall, he changes in the open, leaving on his white undershirt and underwear. It doesn’t take him long to put on his pants, belt, and shoes. But then he takes a minute to fix and gel up his hair in the mirror in the locker.

When Alaine stepped out of the stall she was fiddling with her hair, trying to get it into that low bun – focused on the task and the time, she hurried over to the mirror next to Jet, starting to say with a faint laugh, “I almost forgot I had this red in my hair, I–”

And about then she actually looked at him in the mirror, words dying in her mouth as she completely forgot what she was going to say. He didn’t even have the jacket on yet, but that was kind of what she found so attractive about it. Just him in his nice pants with his undershirt, hands in his hair. With no mask to hide it, the bright blush on her face was pretty obvious.

“Y-You look nice,” she managed, staring for a second before catching herself and clearing her throat. Right, she needed…to…

And it was about then that she caught sight of herself in the mirror and was left at a loss for words again, slowly stepping back so the mirror could catch more.

Her first thought was that that dress really was too nice for her to be touching, and her second thought was that maybe she actually looked kind of pretty.

Of course, the third thought was her mom’s voice in her head, suddenly butting in to exclaim in dismay over her bare shoulders and slight cleavage and the way it clung to her hips and–

Yeah, that was why it was always years in between every time she wore dresses or tried to look nice and feminine. There was always something wrong with it every time she did, at least according to her mom. She was sure her mom was just trying to be helpful… but Laverne Barrows was also literally the tiniest woman ever, so every little curve on Alaine was always too obvious. It was a weird mix of feeling pretty but also criticizing any tiny thing, which led to her usually just giving up and going for the more coverage, less attention option.

“Do I look– okay?” Alaine asked uncertainly, tentatively adjusting the off-shoulder sleeves and suddenly feeling very exposed. She could see the random freckles on her shoulders that she used to swear lined up like constellations, but now she just saw spots. And her hair looked messy. And the dark circles under her eyes were a lot more noticeable now that she was staring at herself without a mask…

Her hands shifted, adjusting the dress around her waist, fiddling with the cape-like train, playing with her hands in front of herself – all of it little anxious movements that weren’t really doing anything. “I think – I-I don’t know. I don’t know about nice clothes. I look weird. Not the dress, the dress is beautiful, I really owe you and your mom one, but – I look weird in it. Don’t I? Like I’m not supposed to be wearing it?”

Jet’s jaw is hanging open through her ramblings- only partially absorbing the words that she’s saying. But then she says something that makes him put the brakes on immediately. “Woah hey- not at all. You look” Jet swallows, letting his eyes trail down her frame and back up. “Absolutely stunning Alaine.” He practically whispers her name. “I honestly think this dress was basically made for you as it is.” He presses a finger to the top of her shoulder, and gently pushes. Making an attempt to get her to turn.

All her nervous fiddling had tapered off near immediately, her hands going very still as Jet looked at her. She felt a subtle shiver run all the way from the soles of her feet to the top of her head and had that same feeling that she was supposed to be hugging him right about then.

“Let me check the back.” Jet’s eyes find the undone clasp, and then immediately find the ceiling. He’s desperate to press a kiss right above it. “Is it okay if I do this for you?” A beat passes and then he’s offering her an out- “I can always use my powers if you’d prefer.” The tops of his cheeks are red, and the hair is standing up on his forearms.

“Oh – no, yeah, please,” Alaine replied, voice a bit higher than usual. She cleared her throat lightly and laughed a bit, glancing over her shoulder at him then quickly looking ahead again. “You can just use your hands, I don’t mind.”

Jet takes the answer and slides closer to her. The side of his hands collide with her upper back as he uses his powers to at least help him pull the clasp open with a bit more precision. It was his ex’s favorite parlor trick. His chest squeezes at the memory of his lover turned bitch and he swats it away as quickly as it appeared.

When the clasp is secure, his fingers linger on it for just a second. The heat from her skin warms him and he averts his eyes to the ceiling once more. When he lets go, he feels the loss in his chest.

Alaine swallowed, her hands again fiddling in front of her again – for completely different reasons that time. “Thanks. And–”

She turned around, finding she was quite a bit closer to him than she’d realized. She felt heat flush her face again but she didn’t move away, looking right at his collarbone briefly before her eyes went up his throat and finally settled on his face again.

“–Thank you for doing this,” she went on softly, gesturing vaguely at herself and the dress. “Seriously, I really – really owe you one. And your mom. Was she okay with it? I mean – uh, you don’t have to answer that, sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Jet’s mouth moves just a little slower than normal in response. “Oh- she was so happy too. I think she’s only worn this once, and she loves to share clothes.” He gives her a genuine smile, but there’s something about the way the light hits his eyes that’s wrong.

She thought, maybe, that there was a half-truth in there. But she hardly had room to wish it was a whole truth, as many half-truths as she’d told him. “Well, make sure you let her know how much I appreciate it, yeah?”

Aside from figuring out the mask situation, all she had to do was throw on the slip-on shoes she’d brought in her backpack – not the fanciest of options, but she figured the dress could hide those, and she could always just hover around if she needed to.

“Do you need any help?” she asked, blinking and adding with a faint laugh, “I did get the right stuff, I hope?”

Shrugging on his coat, he hands her the intricately designed red and black pocket square. “Help me with this?”

Alaine bobbed her head with an affirmative little hum, adjusting the fold of the pocket square before stepping closer to tuck it into the breast pocket of his jacket; she fiddled with it maybe a moment longer than was really necessary, but her artistic eye wouldn’t be satisfied with an uneven look.

With their outfits situated and hair done, all that was left was the shiny stuff; Alaine hesitated to actually reach for any of it for herself, thinking she’d just wait until Jet had what he wanted out of the lot. He holds up the jewelry and offers her some of the spare stuff. A chain necklace and a bracelet. He offers each to her and helps her put them on. He puts on one of the remaining gold chains.

Of course, she couldn’t help suggesting a certain piece or two for him herself – and when he reached for the watch she felt a sudden tug in her chest.

“Here – um, let me.” Alaine reached out, gently catching his hand; with her own free hand she reached for the red-faced watch, handling it carefully. It felt expensive. Gingerly turning his wrist over, she wrapped the gold band around him, brows furrowing slightly as she fastened it – not too loose, not too tight. Her fingers were warm against his inner wrist as she tried to both not touch him too much but also touch him as much as she could, probably standing a little closer than was necessary.

“This is a really pretty watch,” she mused, turning his hand over again to observe her work and adjusting the timepiece superficially. “Where’d you get it? Or is that a question I shouldn’t be asking?” she added jokingly, glancing up at him with a little smile then down again.

“How about I tell you later? What I’ll say is you picked my favorite watch.” He smirks at her, but pink dusts his cheek bones. It’s a vulnerable piece of info- maybe he’ll get there. Maybe he won’t.

“Ohh okay, okay, so this is totally a super secret spy watch, huh?” she teased, satisfied with the watch and glancing up again in time to catch that color on his face. That only made her want to know more… but, again, as many secrets as she kept, she hardly had a right to demand more. “That’d probably be my favorite watch, too.”

Finally letting go of his hand, she moved to go retrieve her backpack from her locker and grab those slip-on shoes – along with digging around and praying those old prototypes were still in there from when John had been asking her what she liked. Luckily there was one – black, of course, and a lot more revealing than usual, only covering a portion of the top of her face. It didn’t have the shaded lenses, either – not for a prototype.

“Should we head back upstairs?” He slides on the mask that only covers his eyes, and he’s suddenly feeling very un-Asteroid like.

Leaning against the counter with one hand, Alaine slipped her shoes on then straightened up, looking in the mirror to make sure she had the mask situated correctly on her face. Seeing so much of herself made her stomach churn a little nervously, but she tried not to think about it.

“Yeah, probably,” she agreed, clearing her throat lightly and pulling her anxious gaze from the mirror to look at Jet. Her eyes glanced quickly over him, at first assessing as if trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything – but it turned appreciative as she looked at his face again, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I like being able to see your eyes,” she declared, head tilting slightly as she looked over at him. Something else occurred to her then, and she felt her face growing warm as she asked, “You, uh – you don’t mind that we’re… kind of matching?”

Alaine gestured between the two of them. The red, black, and gold theme they were sharing was obvious. It wouldn’t be too crazy for others to make the assumption that they were matching on purpose.

Jet flushes at the comment about his eyes. “I don’t mind.” The words were out before she could second-guess them. “But, I mean, um. I can try to stay on the other side of the room from you so it’s not so obvious,” she suggested, half-joking. She would though, if that was what he’d prefer.

They’re moving through the door back to the general populous by the time he can answer her. “Somehow prefer it- actually.”

---

When Blackstar and Asteroid made it up to reception, Hat Trick, Lightning Girl, and James were already there. They all looked absolutely stunning, and Alaine had to remind herself that she could actually be seen staring with her new mask so she hurried to get her facial expression under control. The fact that she had to worry about that made her anxious, on top of everything else.

Lightning Girl was currently poking fun at their dispatcher, calling him “Bond” – which Alaine found funny, because he was already halfway there with the first name James. She couldn’t help thinking the way they poked fun at each other was almost sibling-like, but she supposed if they’d been working together for years they’d probably have the same tone.

The dispatcher was looking dapper in his tux though, and she could definitely imagine him playing James Bond in a movie. Hat Trick was decked out too, looking absolutely royal in his purple, black gold suit. She wondered how much it cost to get a suit made big enough to fit his hulked-out form. And speaking of costs, she was scared to know how much something like Ikret’s dress would be priced. It glittered like real diamonds – maybe they were – and the new heroine’s wings paired with the ensemble just made her look all the more effortlessly priceless.

If anyone looked directly at her Alaine offered an awkward smile, but otherwise seemed like she was trying to avoid making eye contact – hyper aware of the fact that she was not in her normal high-coverage suit. It was like putting on a dress had reverted her back to day one at SDN, making her all quiet and shy again.

LG, dressed in an absolutely gorgeous, silvery dress that made Alaine think of some kind of ancient moon goddess, directed the group’s attention to the limo pulling up. Shimmering, Lightning Girl led the way outside and practically launched herself into the limousine, her infectious enthusiasm obvious as she gushed over the luxury accommodations.

"Okay, this is the good stuff! I mean they told us we can't all show off by turning up and flying or leaping there so this was it but.....we're going in a limo to Hollywood! Ahhhh!"

Jet laughs and starts to look for a sunroof on the limo. “Maybe we can do limo sunroof karaoke on the way back. What should we duet- LG?” He tosses his friend a smile.

Alaine remained quiet, though she was in awe too. She’d never been in a limo before either. She hardly felt like it was anything she deserved.

She caught hold of Jet’s arm, mumbling a nervous, “Can I sit by you?”

Jet covers her hand with his own and smiles at her. It’s clear permission, but he doesn’t say a word.

"Like genuinely, as a kid I never imagined this would happen. I know it's a work occasion but come on, this is cool, right? Oh, we should probably get a photo in while we're here!"

Blackstar did indeed cringe a little at the suggestion of a photo, especially given she practically felt naked with her change in mask. Still, she did lean in when Lightning Girl motioned for everybody to be part of the action – that said, she still ducked her head slightly behind Asteroid’s shoulder so her whole face wouldn’t be in the picture. Jet holds up a peace sign, obscuring the features of his nose and mouth in doing so.

A second later she saw Hat Trick's phone coming out too, and that picture she knew would be going on socials so, again, she leaned back just enough to obscure half of her face behind Jet as the image was snapped.

Jet repositioned for this one as well, but was less successful, only obscuring his mouth and some of his nose. Oh hell- guess that will have to do.

Dungeon Crawler Carl: Twin Suns

@Citrus - hey!! Sorry about that- I was on vacation for about a week and a half. I'd intended to respond while there but it slipped my mind because there was a lot of travel. Plan to get to this tomorrow- and then I'll be back on my usual schedule!

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

W A K I N G U P O N T H E W R O N G S I D E O F L I F E

Virginia's Crash Spot & Husker's

_{Interactions-}

---

Virginia was sitting under the old train overpass when the power went out. She was writing in her ‘little black book’ just venting out her feelings of the week. Not being able to purchase a new mic cord for the one she broke- and now having to figure out how to scrape that cash together.

Her eyes narrow at the recently sprayed graffiti above her sleeping area. “What asshole decided that looks good anyway.” Standing is a bit of a chore on her straining muscles. One too many nights sleeping on a few blankets and sleeping bags on top of each other. Her spine needed a real bed to sleep in at some point- and soon.

She slots her last bummed cigarette in between her lips, fighting with the wind and an empty lighter to light it. It's enough of a wake up jolt that she's able to slide on a new pair of shorts and a shirt.

Okay priority list for today? She hashes out what she has, what she needs. At some point soon I've gotta track down Rowan.

She starts the semi long walk through the woods to town- the whole way long she's trying different lyrics out of her book. Trying different registers. By the time she's made it through three or four pages she's walking down mainstreet.

Peering into Clark's she's met by a gaggle of people surrounding Lee. There's a tense look on Lee's face that makes her walk away, very unlikely that he'd be up to engage after working and having to engage with that many people.

That's when she notices how quiet it is. How the general buzz of electricity is missing. A scoff bursts out of her- “with how bad they are at keeping the power on, you'd think they'd be forced to charge us less.”

She hauls herself into Husker's- aiming at putting anything in her growling stomach, and hopefully looking to find someone's bed to occupy.

“Hey yeah, can I get just a plate of fries?” She sits by herself, and busies herself by writing in her notebook some more. Maybe she can catch Rowan after this.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

Lee’s eyebrows rise as Silvester stumbles through explaining what he needs. Okay- he’s not here to see Clark- just to get something cold. Sure- easy enough.”Yeah- sure.” He grabs the key to the cash drawer that Clark keeps on a nail under the counter. It’s underneath a dust covered apron- Lee’s not sure how they’ve gotten away with that for this long. But then again, it’s necessary since they seem to be doing this so damn often.

When Lee’s upright again, Silvester is standing in front of him with his haul. Did- did Silvester just give him an up-down? No way. He scratches the purchase into a notebook beside the register. Extending his hand, he catches the man’s payment. But it’s not without his stomach doing a little flip when they brush hands.

Clearing his throat, he answers the question. ”I think I could scrape together $75? If you’re looking for more, can I catch up with ya after payday?” The mental math is already saying there isn’t a way in hell that’s happening. Maybe $25 more. Maybe. ”And as far as your daughter goes- we can work something out to get it to her when she needs it. If that’s something that comes up-” He offers Silvester a paper bag, but figures he’ll decline.

”You can give me 50 bucks for it and I’ll throw in a year long warranty if it isn’t up to snuff,” Silvester nods along, waving off the bag as he looks down at his shoes for a moment, ”My daughter doesn’t appreciate hand-me-downs anyways. She’d probably rather I sold it anyway. Knowing her, she’d get onto me for knocking the price—”

Silvester’s eyes travel over Lee’s shoulder. So he turns as well to look at the door. Another silhouette darkens the doorway.

"Excuse me! Is the owner around? I'd really like to talk to him. Or...or her. Them? The owner?"

An out of towner. During a power outage- what a hell of a time to visit Pines Holler. He smiles apologetically at Silvester. Then Lee hesitates before turning back to answer. ”Seems like it. Ma’s fine- her and Sandy are holed up in the kiddie pool in the backyard.” Lee sighs and guides the older man back to the front. Silvester fidgets behind him, unsure of what to do with his hands as they pass the mildly cold cola between them. ”Don’t be a stranger- it was nice seeing ya.” There is a genuine lift to his tone before he refocuses his attention.

”I might, uh, actually still browse a bit if that’s not any trouble,” Silvester pauses as he puts a hand on the door, smiling at the two just behind it, ”It’ll give me time to convince my daughter to give me my car back. I can’t stomach walking through that heat anymore, even if it isn’t half as better in here. And the tavern… it’s just, uh, I don’t do well around too many folks anyhow. Nicer this way, I think.” Offering his pleasantries, Silvester dips a bit to give them space and stay clear out of the way, ”Sorry, don’t mind my old man ramblings. Morning to y’all.”

Lee pivots to the door. Behind it is a woman wearing something nicer than what Ma wore to her wedding. A pretty white blouse, and slacks. Out of the ordinary- for sure. He bristles at the information he’s collected- but rights himself by putting on his customer service face. ”Somethin’ we can help you with ma’am?”

In the time it takes to make it over- another form he’s a little more familiar with stands beside her. Before he knows it, Suzanna’s holding the door open. ”What- is this an ambush? We don’t have any ice if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” It’s lighthearted. ”Come in before we let all the air out.” He beckons them in quickly. Lee watches Silvester pull his phone out and start furiously typing, likely to his daughter, as he dips behind the nearest shelves.

The last thing Theresa expected was another local showing up and, moreover, opening the door as if the store was open despite the sign. But then, was there anything more fitting of a townsfolk than being so familiar with the local shop that a closed door was not a deterrent? Even in her limited time outside the store, she could tell the three others had a familiarity with each other, passing or otherwise, that went beyond simply being a regular customer. That distinction was clear in places like this; Theresa could be asked about her ex-partner or her parents by the barista at her favorite coffee shop in the city, but in a town like this when a clerk asked about the parents or the house or anything…it was genuine. Human.

And now Theresa had to convince the people to remove that humanity in service of profit. If she believed, she was definitely going to hell. ”Yes, hello, sorry to bother you,” Theresa followed inside the store, engaging in the awkward dance of nodding the head to the other customers. She paused a moment when she saw the employee, searching what lingering memories she had of her youth only to come up..empty. Not quite forgotten but just pushed to the side. ”Sorry, I’m looking for the owner. Clark? I assume Clark is…still around?” Internally Theresa was screaming at herself. Be polite. Be friendly. Be cordial. Stop being so obviously a suit! ”Some…some morning, huh?” Well…it was better than nothing.

”Clark’s ‘round back- I doubt anybody would be stubborn enough to keep this place open besides Clark.” The hesitation in the woman’s voice causes him to pause. ”Does Clark know you’re looking for him?” He offers her a smile- but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He knows Clark wasn’t expecting anyone today- or usually ever. But it’s a good opportunity to gauge this stranger.

Stranger. Is she a stranger? There’s something familiar about her that he can’t place.

”He…does…not know I’m looking for him, no.” Theresa could’ve lied, but her mother once told her that lies had a way of coming back around. Of all the times her parents and their wisdom came back to influence her, it had to be when she needed to bend the truth. Was that irony? Probably not. But it was annoying and she had only herself to blame. ”Are you…like…a manager or…?”

Lee thinks about his answer too. ”Nah- I am the night stocker sometimes, but Clark doesn’t make enough around here to have a full time manager on.” He looks out the front windows- at the shady sun littered sidewalk. ”Are you selling something?” He tries to be gentle about the accusation, but he gives her a once over to hopefully indicate the origin of his question. “Ain’t it a little hot for that?” He closes an eye and tilts his head at her. Some mirror across the street must be shining a light in his eye.

”Selling something? Not…exactly.” Did it count if she was trying to sell a man on an idea? Probably not, though it still kinda had a price tag attached to it. She filed away the knowledge of a lack of salary for a manager position in her mind; it was likely not intentional but the clerk had given Theresa some ammunition. It would’ve been a depressing thought if she dwelled on it. ”Hot for…oh, you mean my outfit? Nah, I’m used to it. I’m from here. Around here. I’m…from around…here.” Smooth. Not suspicious at all.

Lee blinks at her answer- she’s from here? Is she younger or older than him? He only had two years of high school, so that’s probably why she isn’t super familiar. He was- preoccupied. ”Well- I can take you back to the office to talk with the old man.” Lee turns towards the back of the store, luckily there is just enough light spilling in from the windows that they aren’t walking down a pitch dark hallway. He’d have just hollered for Clark in that case. Lee raps on the door when they get there. ”Clark- someone’s askin’ for you. Ms-?” The door swings open, and a man with a sunworn face stares back at them. Lee extends an arm to motion to the woman. He doesn’t really listen to her answer. Lee just gives her a firm nod and heads back out to the front.

”Yes! Theresa. Ms. Theresa!” There was a very real possibility Clark would place the last name. Better avoid it. Theresa steps towards the door, her arm extended and her best corporate polite smile on her face. She never quite learned how to make that smile seem genuine. Probably because it never was. ”I would very much like to speak to you, Mr. Clark. Just…some simple questions…” The easy part was over…

She’s Clark’s problem now.

Plus there are two customers out front when there were supposed to be zero. As Lee walks towards the front of the door, a ray of sunlight catches his eye just right. In that moment he almost feels like he can see his old man walking in the door. As usual his loud mouth is open- harassing Clark for some of his wife’s lemonade. It’s barely more than a beat, but it causes his gait to falter as he shakes off the illusion.

He heads over to stand behind the register once more.

As Lee walks back over to the counter, a familiar voice speaks up.

“Just need some things.” Suzanna replied. She had since wandered into the few aisles in the store while Lee was busy with the stranger. “Saw people inside. Figured y’all were open.”

Her gaze travelled the various shelves in an attempt to locate what she needed—spices. The spice cabinet at home was running low, and god forbid was Suzanna not about to season her food with salt and pepper alone. Flavor wasn’t something to cheap out on regardless of what you were cooking. It made food edible. Enjoyable.

“I’ve got some fish in the cooler.”

She grabbed a mix of several different spice containers, and then headed back to the counter where Lee was waiting. They were more expensive at Clark’s than the big box stores off the main highway, but Suzanna didn’t mind the premium. There was a difference in the atmosphere; the service at Clark’s that she felt you couldn’t get anywhere else.

“You hungry?” Suzanna asked, placing the spices on the counter. She dug into her pocket, and pulled out her wallet to pay. “You’re already closed. Why not ask for the day off? We can go grab Sandy on the way.”

Lee picks up each bottle, scribbling the barcode down in his off-blue legal notebook. He reaches the second to last one and notices that the date is almost past due. He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember the last time they’d gotten a spice shipment. “Hold that thought Suz.” He jogs into the aisles quickly and finds a sealed box behind 2-3 remaining of the one kind Suzanna picked up.

He looks right, and finds Silvester typing away on his phone. Lee takes a moment to give him a real once over- lingering on the finer details of his outfit. The well fitting pants and shirt.

Lee whips his head back to the spices, sweeps the nearly expired ones into his apron, and pops open a fresh box. A few years on the expiry for these. Cool. ”Suz- I can give you like, 50% off that one- it’s almost expired. Or one of these for full price.”

He writes down the new UPC code into his notebook, and starts tabulating the math with a pencil. Since he graduated with his GED, he’d stopped using a calculator. Something made you value basic skills when you feel like you’re learning them later than you should.

”Sandy’s home already- actually. But if you’re offerin’, I got a trellis full of green beans to share.” While he’s pleased at the offer, he also knows how tight budgets around here have been lately. He’s gonna be sending her home with some of ma’s pickled beats and carrots in return.

Lee looks over his shoulder at the occupied office, and then back to Suzanna. “I’ve got the truck, so meet you back at the park? Sandy can help you with the green beans- she’s done ‘em tons.”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll take it. Probably will be gone by the time it expires.” She explained, handing Lee a couple bills across the counter.

Suzanna hadn’t expected anything in return, but she wasn’t going to turn down Lee’s offer. Side dishes always went well with her family recipes, especially with fresh produce. Toss in a little seasoning and some butter (which unfortunately they’d likely have to skip out on), and you were “eating good”.

“That’ll work.” Suzanna replied. “I’ll meet you there. Get things prepped for y’all.”

Grabbing the spices, Suzanna tossed Lee and then Silvester a farewell nod as she headed back to her truck. She needed to get the grill hot and ready for them to cook; charcoal took some time to heat up, after all.

When he’s finished checking Suz out, he marks the remaining spices as half off with the bright neon orange stickers in the drawer. He tosses them into the basket of deals, and then finds Silvester in the stacks. ” Hey- enjoy the AC, I’m getting out of here. Just head out the back when you’re done soaking it up.” A quick smile, and then he’s out the back- headed for his truck.

The suddenness of noise causes Silvester to jolt in place, taking him out his quiet Spanglish mumbling to see Lee. It takes a long time for the words to register, long enough that Silvester’s simply staring at Lee for longer than he’d deem polite. He stumbles, nearly knocking his elbow in against one of the shelves before shoving his phone back in his pocket. ”Oh, oh yeah. That’s—I should probably get outta Clark’s hair anyway,” He says motioning toward the back door as he starts scooting off, ”Give my place a call—the store. Give the store a call anytime. I’ll keep that futon ready for you.”

With that, Silvester makes himself as scarce as he can, lamenting the fact that he immediately forgot his farewells, wellwishing, any and all kinds of polite goodbyes. He’d think on that much later, when the heat wasn’t still clinging to his shirt and his shirt wasn’t clinging to his skin.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

C O U G A R C R A Z Y

Los Angeles Zoo & Botanical Gardens

_{Interactions-
| James l (@FourtyTwo) ||}

---

Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse

Jet stared at the scene in front of him in abject horror. What really sent him was the comment about men in heat. He already knew he was a dead man walking in this crowd. A mask? Dangerous- he could be anybody under it, and his suit did betray he was more fit than Average Joe. He saw the posts about booktok girlies on the internet.

This was going to be a nightmare.

The porcelain tiger the woman threw smashed into the floor within a few feet of him. “Jesus.”

"Cougars. They meant that kind of cougar. Asteroid, up to you, mate. You're an expert on this sort of thing, aren't you? See if you can bring this one to a peaceful end. Or at least, bring some order back to this chaos so everyone can enjoy the zoo again." James finally cracked, shaking his head, knowing the grannies he'd dealt with before were probably beyond that definition.

Asteroid groans into the comm system. ”Wrangling Cougars at the zoo, got it James. I’m starting to think it’ll be tough to escape.” He takes a deep breath and then approaches the woman with his hands held palms out in front of him. Like he really was trying to calm a wild animal.

The older woman, Mrs. Porcelain to Jet in his brain straightens up. And for a flicker of a moment he saw echos of her past life. Her standing at attention in front of a group of young people. Oh- no. ”Ma’am, I’m Asteroid, SDN hero. And I think-”

He is within three feet of her when her arm lashes out and throws the entire display of porcelain tigers to the floor. Jet grimaces beneath his mask. He tries to recall if that’s paperwork SDN has to file, or just the business with their insurance company. ”Listen sweetheart- I was promised men, and best I can tell you’re the only one in a fifty foot radius.”

Previously unnoticed, the women have closed in on him from every angle. A chorus of affirmative cheers makes him jump.

A shiver runs up his spine. ”Listen ladies- I heard there’s a Phenomaman look a like competition a few blocks over! We can get back on your bus and head over there.”

The women begin to break things all around them. The manager’s depressed whimpers can be heard from behind the counter. He pivots to reassure the woman that he’ll be able to get it under control when Mrs. Porcelain takes this opportunity to jump on his back. He lifts her with ease, but he swallows with discomfort. ”Forward, march.” the woman barks from his back. The women around him at once turn and begin moving toward the bus.

Guards at the gate give him sympathetic looks as he approaches the party bus pimped out by the retirement home. The feather boa lined windows were what surprised him the most. After dropping Mrs. Porcelain at the top stair, the other women begin to climb in after him.

One of them smacks the back of his knees with their cane and he stumbles forward. The older women then begin to climb or shimmy over him until just one is left at the bottom of the stairs. She’s wearing sunglasses and holds an extendable pole in her hands. He pries himself from the stairs, feeling a bit bruised from the clown events. He’s sure a few old ladies would have hurt a lot less prebroken ribs.

He reaches down and grasps her hand lightly. ”I’ll help you up, Ma’am.” The woman says nothing but takes his hand and proceeds up the stairs.

”Anyone not accounted for?”

A chorus of mumbles as they discuss. Suddenly a shrill voice from the middle of the bus pipes up. ”Anybody see Darlene?”

Asteroid sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pivots to the bus driver. ”Shut the door and don’t let them out unless it’s dire circumstances.”

He ignores the driver's protests as he marches back into the zoom. In the middle of the entrance zone there is a fountain. Inside the fountain is a family of Mallards. And Darlene. Presumably.

”You Darlene Ma’am? Your friends are looking for you.” Asteroid stands at the edge of the fountain. Inside, Darlene is stretched out like it is actually a hot tub. The Mallards float stiffly on the other side of the fountain from her.

He examines her after there is no answer and finds that she is wearing a name badge with ‘Darlene’ and ‘Alzheimer's’ in big block letters.

Jet reaches into the fountain and is able to retrieve her and stick her back into her overturned wheel chair. A lazy smile doesn’t leave her face as Asteroid pilots them back to the bus.

Where they find a concerning scene. Inside, the driver stands in the middle aisle, hands over his face while several purses rain down on him. It isn’t until Asteroid has Darlene safely tucked into her seat that the driver rushes the front of the bus. ”We’re leaving.”

Asteroid begins to protest but it is interrupted by a purse to the face. More follow, and as they pull away from the curb he fully steps into the shoes of the driver. Being pelted by every angle by purses.

When they finally make it to their destination, Mrs. Porcelain drags him inside. They approach the desk, where three unbothered women sit, eyes glued to their computer screens. ”See girls, I told you I’d get myself a chaperone!”

These errands double the time Asteroid thought he’d be gone for the dispatch, as he is forced to run around with Mrs. Porcelain.

”James- I think I’m swearing off old ladies for awhile” He reaches the breakroom last and he finds his pockets are inexplicably stuffed with Werther’s Original candies. He offers them to everyone in the room slowly.

Dungeon Crawler Carl: Twin Suns

Thanks!!

Yes, I like them watching the recap together.

Perfect- and omg America's funniest home videos is such a perf format for that.

I'll come up with small pieces of a few of them and we can staple it together. I have a tonnn of pinterest character refs saved, and I have ideas !

Multiple RP ideas! (Fandoms and otherwise)

I'd be interested in a DBH rp! What kind of genres are we thinking? Im a bit stacked up right now but I could commit to a little more often than once a month post schedule for a few pages (2-4)

I dont have any ocs for this universe but I read an inordinate amount of ff for this Fandom. Check my bio for some of my prefs too!

Id be down for buddy cop for sure. But im interested in what your ocs are.

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

S O W H E R E T O N O W ?

SDN Office by James’ Desk

_{Interactions-
| James l (@FourtyTwo) ||}

---

Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse

Asteroid was fully suited up in his normal uniform, Rey had dropped him off at the front door like a parent nervous for their kid’s first day. It’d been one hell of a week, Jet spending the majority of it stretched out on his best friend’s couch. At one point on the second day, Rey’s mom had dropped by. That old woman scared Jet on a good day. But when she came in and saw a beat and bloodied Jet on her son’s couch?

Oh she was an unhappy woman.

Her son, she’d only relatively recently gotten back from the prison system?

Jet’s almost sure Ms. Margrove did more damage with her purse than most of the clowns could do with a baseball bat. The thought made him shiver and refocus on the present. From the shared work terminal he watched as James rounded a corner headed for his desk.

Quickly- he hits print. He’s hoping to catch up with his supervisor and check in. Last week he didn’t get to his timesheet after the clown-tastrophe. With three broken ribs, how could he? James hadn’t ribbed him about it yet, and he was still trying to make up for his slip of judgement with the old knitting ladies.

Like sure- it probably was harmless. But as a person from the UK- he wasn’t sure just how familiar James was with MJ as a substance. So- regardless of the habits he may have had in the past- he was an SDN hero now.

Which- like James said during the briefing- carried a lot of weight. That weight felt heavy on his body in general since the fight. He didn’t know where that left the team. He’d been going through the team slack when a photo had appeared. A selfie of an- Egyptian Goddess-like figure? They were working with demigods now?

Where did that leave the rest of the team?

As he hurries after James, his eyes catch on the leaderboard in the common area. His name hasn’t moved a ton on the board since the team’s comments at the bar. But, did that mean anything when your team couldn’t prevent what was likely the largest mass casualty event in recent memory in L.A.?

He hoped so. He needed this job.

Turning away from the board, he sees Raul standing in front of a weirdly smudged looking wall. He makes a mental note to stop by to see if he needs any help.

But first, the timesheet.

He approaches James’ desk- and in real time he can see his soul die- just a little bit. James’ is peering over the wall to glare at Martha- the HR lady in their section of the building. A chuckle rises in his throat.

”What’d Martha do to you? He’s smirking, but he’s wearing his mask so what does it matter?

Their team’s tiny kitten bumbles around James’ desk, getting comfortable- and surprisingly ignoring the new plushie desk ornament he’s got. Jet leans over, cooing at Felix, rubbing between his ears with three fingers.

Jet pulls out his paperwork from under his arm, and sets it in what he presumes is James’ incoming mail slot. ”I put the values in too- but I know they like to have paper copies of stuff, so I just hit print while I was standing there.” It’s an overexplanation. A desperate plea to be taken seriously by the person who was the first line of defense for his job.

Asteroid takes advantage of his full face mask, and really looks at James up close for the first time. He looks like someone who takes himself just a bit too seriously- Jet can relate- but that because of that has really made it. It makes his chest squeeze. Would his father be proud of him if he had a fancy consulting job like James’?

No- the only career his father approved of was banking.

Afterall, how else was Jet supposed to take their family to the next level of wealth? Not that they needed any more fucking money. Memories of his mother draped in beautiful gowns adorned with- her favorite- pearls.

”What’s the- mask situation for the gala? I wasn’t really sure how that would go-” Jet trails off awkwardly. He knows that a lot of guys would look at him sideways for worrying about something like that so far ahead of time. But there was something about the way that James dressed himself that made Jet think he might not even blink twice at the question. Plus- this is the kind thing you were supposed to ask your supervisor- right?

Asteroid turns to face the breakroom, remembering that his sewing kit is stashed in one of the upper cabinets. With- directions to the next payphone he’s supposed to take his mother’s call. Strangely- it was probably the safest place he’s ever put a print out like that. ”You meet Ikret yet? She’s got a really interesting- look?” He very nearly says costume, but then becomes immediately worried disrespect like that would cause a smiting of Jets of sorts.

Breakroom

_{Interactions-
| Ikret (@Ezekiel) | Blackstar (@cosmiccowgirl) | Lightning Girl (@FourtyTwo)| Jamesl (@FourtyTwo) |}

---

Asteroid is the first one in the breakroom, he’s after his sewing kit. He reaches above the fridge, and finds the solid clear blue case right where he left it. Inside is a folded up print out of google maps- directions from the post office by his place to the payphone he should expect a call at.

He pops the case open ”This weekend, good thing I had a shift today.” His tone is anything but jovial.

Tossing his meal prep in the fridge, he takes a chair beside the table. That’s where he starts counting safety pins inside the kit, doing mental math on the number of people who were going to need their pants hemmed at the last minute before the Gala.

"Lightning Girl found our stash," she explained, trying to sound casual about it.

When Blackstar lands in the chair beside him, he is surprised that he doesn’t jump at the new intrusive presence. He’d been a bit jumpy since he was in prison. The realization feels a little like the feeling of driving down a large hill fast. A swoop starting above his heart and landing in his gut.

His mouth opens and closes at the sight of the bear he’d fully intended to give to her. It looks different. Its black and red fur looks extra stuffed, and a new- gold chain? Hangs from its neck. Being in the building, his gloves aren’t on, so when he reaches forward to touch the chain he’s able to hook the tip of his finger into one of the links.

"Better take good care of him or I'll take you to court for custody."

Jet can’t help it, he tries, but a laugh breaks out of him. It’s bright, happy, and it lasts- for about a second before he doubles over. His left hand presses against the right side of his rib cage, the act of laughing being a bit too much muscle activity for his not-quite-mended bones.”And here I was filling out paperwork for child- er- bear support. I wasn’t even expecting joint custody.”

He wishes he was looking at her- at Alaine’s eyes. Not the expressionless portals of her mask. He hopes she understands- but presses because he can’t afford it. He can’t afford her to get the wrong impression here.

The man beneath the Asteroid costume leans forward, close enough to whisper, but not close enough to alert suspicion if anyone were to come in.”Alaine- I won this for you.” His voice is steady- but quiet. Soft- but sure. ”It reminded me of you. But now- he reminds me- of me?” There is surprise and may just a little bit of embarrassment in his voice as he examines the chain.

Whatever she says doesn’t really matter for what he says next- ”You’ll just have to give me the opportunity to win you another.”

Jet leans back slowly when LG walks in, but he finds himself examining her in every gravitational equation he can come up with in the room. If he wanted to pull her chair closer to him- he’d only have to apply this much force, in this vector, and apply this much to account for the friction of the chair legs. That would cause one of her thighs to land just between his. And if he moved the table in tha-

His brain is a mess of Alaine flavored equations when Ikret walks in. The new face shakes him free for a few moments. “Hey- welcome to the team.” He reaches forward and offers them a fist bump. He hopes their casual nature extends to expressions of greeting like this, and he’s not about to learn that a fist bump is some sort of grave error against a goddess.

James’ speech knocks Jet off his footing for a moment.

Enjoy yourselves when you go. After what happened last week....heroes don't always get the recognition they deserve, but you all absolutely do.

Asteroid is a joke when stacked up next to the room of heroes around him, and fuzzy memories of clowns beating the shit out of him seem to prove that to his subconscious. But he nods along and offers a bit of a clap in response to James’ pep talk.

”Must be quite strange for your first day on the team to end with a Gala dinner?” It’s genuine- he’s pretty sure he’d have had a heart attack if it were him. He’s sure he would have shown up out of costume, and that makes him sweaty.

Dungeon Crawler Carl: Twin Suns

Hey! Got the neighborhood boss together for them :) I'll do loot with Igva next time.

Anything we're thinking for the Dungeon Premiere? Probably should have the show define the soul bound thing a little, show the aftermath of it happening. Maybe we could then give each pair a little vignette where they really notice each other for the first time?

Hope you liked my post! I liked yours! Hope work is giving you less of a hard time, I'm also struggling with work. I'm a software engineer lead- and it means I'm basically always on call haha

Also! I consider myself an elder emo! I just wanted to highlight some of the creeps in the scene lol- trying to apply it to Diane and Loralie because they worked at a rock radio station.