tick, tick, tick...

It wasn’t as if they’d never been in trouble before. It wasn’t even as if this was the worst trouble they’d ever been in. He and Tabby were magnets for bullshit, had been ever since before Cable took them in and taught them how to fight it. They’d been kids when they first started getting into shit like this, had been finding themselves in sticky situations since before they’d known each other at all. These human mobsters with their big guns and their hatred against mutants weren’t great, but they weren’t on level with Cameron Hodge or the Right. Rictor knew that, and he was pretty sure Tabby did too. 

That didn’t mean either of them knew how to get out of this. After all, shit was different now than it had been when he was fourteen and more than willing to shake a building down on all their heads if it meant keeping himself away from Hodge. And anything they did now risked blowing back on XFI or on Genosha as a whole, thanks to Rictor’s role in creating it. It probably meant they ought to try to get out of here without ending up on the front page of the Bugle, even if that wasn’t really what either of them was good at. 

“Shhh,” he hissed, shooting her a glare and glancing to the door, which remained closed. The men on the other side were angry bigots, but not very observant ones. For once, Ric and Tabby had gotten lucky. Just a little. “It could be fine, if you’d stop yelling and give me a second to think. I’ll come up with a plan. Don’t worry.” Of course, Julio Richter saying he had a plan was prime worry material to anyone who knew him, but he hoped Tabby wouldn’t point that out now, when his plan might be their only shot at getting out of this shit.

He winced when Tabby repeated what they were up against, because it certainly sounded worse when she said it. She didn’t put a positive spin on it the way he did! “The last time I brain shook a crowd of people, all hell broke loose,” he pointed out, though that had probably had more to do with Lorna’s injury than the human men he’d killed. It had still given Magneto an excuse to keep him on Genosha without anyone questioning it too much, because having a ready ‘he killed a dozen people’ excuse made people a lot more willing to accept his thinly veiled imprisonment than ‘my daughter is hurt and I blame him for it’ might. “And… I’m not sure how well I can control that.” He wasn’t sure he could shake all the mobsters at once without risking shaking Tabby, too, and he wouldn’t risk hurting his best friend. “Okay, what’s your brilliant plan, then? Because right now? Shit’s looking pretty fucked, Tabs!”

Shit mattered now. That was the worst part of everything. Of Genosha, of being seen, of people talking about mutants like it was going out of style and this heightened state of fucked up that they were dealing with. Before, people hated them. But they hated them in a way that Tabitha could let roll off her back like it was water. Not anymore. That hatred was armed with bullets and between their two powers? Tabitha didn't think they had a chance at taking a few direct bullets and being fine.

"Don't you fucking shush me," Tabitha snapped at him in a quiet voice. He needed to think and Tabby needed to scream. She hated being confined, hated not being able to just blow a hole in the side of the building and run out like nothing was happening. But every one of their usual tricks was off-limits because of politics or some shit like that. (And maybe because they were breaking the law by breaking and entering in the first place — mob or no mob — they were mutants in a human establishment with their noses so far up the mob's ass she was surprised they hadn't already been caught.)

"A plan? You?" Tabitha scoffed. "Your plans only include your penis and sword fighting, don't tell me you're gonna fuck your way out of here for the both of us." It was a needless insult, but she was readily hurling them at him anyway. (It was his fault they were in this mess, so he had it coming, she convinced herself.) Taking a breath, she took as much of a step back as she could before her back was to a literal wall and she slipped back into glaring at him. If looks could kill, the mob was the least of his worries.

He didn’t use his full strength to pull her back because, with the element of surprise on his side, he didn’t have to. It was easy enough to yank her back into her seat when she wasn’t expecting it and, because he knew that she’d been actively trying to get into trouble, he didn’t feel guilty at the way she yelped when she landed. Let it teach her a damn lesson about causing a scene. If she wanted to do that shit, she could do it when she was on her own, when there was no chance it’d blow back on him. (He told himself that was the only reason why he gave a shit. It was pretty convincing. He almost had himself fooled.)

Robbie tensed as the men began to murmur amongst themselves, because if they realized Tabby was a mutant? This shit was going to go a different way. There’d be no avoiding the fight, no getting out of it. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, jaw clenched tightly shut as he waited to see if she’d further stir the pot. At this point? He wouldn’t be surprised if she stood up and shouted yes I’m a mutant at the top of her lungs just to piss him off.

His shoulders slumped slightly with relief when she produced a lighter instead, glad that she wasn’t that stupid. Still not too stupid to try baiting them, of course, but… at least he knew there were limits. “Jesus,” he sighed, throwing his head back. “Do you ever quit? I just want to sit here and drink my damn beer in peace, Smith.”

/

Robbie was eyeing her hard, and she was tempted to flip him off and openly declare him a mutant just to cause him a specific kind of bullshit night. It all sounded great in her head, her imagination running with it — but she still pulled herself back. It wouldn't do her any favors in the long run. (Not that she really cared about it. But... she knew that she was on thin ice with the other mutants already. And so were her friends. One wrong move and they'd be out from there too. And inciting a fight over mutants in a bar was probably a solid reason to throw her out if she went with it.)

Lifting her glass, Tabitha offered Robbie a strained smile. "My daddy never knew when to quit, so why would I?" An underhanded argument, one that he wouldn't be able to defend himself from without being a complete bastard. He was one of the few that might argue with her about it. Or he'd have some story to top hers with — or God forbid — he show some kind of fucking care. "The fuck did you just call me?"

Names were important. She had learned that early on when she met Rictor and had called him Julio and he told her he didn't go by that and asked her to call him Ric. (Julio was for when she was pissed at him and wanted to get a rise out of him — or... in those moments that mattered.) "Call me Smith again, and New York will be down a bar," she said, glaring at him. "Okay? Robert?" It wasn't his name, but that was the point.

“Am I supposed to kick her husband and son out too?” Simon snorted, trying to imagine how that conversation would go. Things with Nazir had been awkward ever since Simon woke him up from his coma, strained since the Green Lantern gig started giving him more and more responsibility while Nazir was stuck at home, but if Simon told him he was taking over his house, he was still pretty sure his brother-in-law would kick his ass the same way he used to when they were kids riling each other up.

It was something Tabitha didn’t seem to relate to. Her family situation had clearly been different than his own, and Simon found himself feeling a pang of sympathy that he definitely wouldn’t voice aloud for fear of having a bomb tossed at his head. For all the ups and downs his family had had, he’d always known he belonged there. “No offense, but I can’t imagine that building smells good. A bunch of rowdy… people living together? Gotta be a nightmare.” He just barely stopped himself from calling them kids, another thing he was sure would offend. (And probably not entirely fair, either, considering she didn’t seem much younger than he was.)

“I’m twenty-nine,” he protested, making a face. His expression fell rather quickly, though. “And it’s more complicated than that. I don’t have a job. And I can’t get a job.” Even if he could find something that would hire him with an understanding that he might disappear for weeks on end for a Green Lantern gig or die unexpectedly in the vacuum of space, the second anyone googled his name and found articles with suspected terrorist in the title, any chance of employment was out. It didn’t matter that the charges were dropped. “Yeah, okay. At least I never stole her rent money.”

/

Tabitha thought about it, actually considering the question like it was something that he could totally do. She imagined how it would go if she tried to throw Jamie out or Terry — or Monet. She couldn't imagine the shit storm that would start if she genuinely tried to do that. "I mean..." Tabitha shrugged, wiggling her eyebrows as she took another drink. "You could try," she then offered. "I'm not saying it would go well, I'm just saying nothing is off the table if you're really determined."

She had no place commenting on family when her own family was... nonexistent. (Or she wished it was. Them just being gone would have been kinder.) "No offense is a bullshit thing people say before they say something fucking rude." She had done it enough times to know what was about to follow, and she was right. Popping her lips, she nodded her head before flipping him off. "At least I don't have to worry about anyone bitching about when I come home and waking up the kids." From what Tabby gathered, there was only one kid. But her point still stood. "And it's tons of fun." Until there were rats and Tabby was screaming from the top of a table. But Simon didn't need to know about that.

"Could have fooled me" Tabby snickered. She didn't mean it, but she still put it out there regardless. "Isn't everything?" The conversation dipped and Tabitha threw back her drink and shook her head. "If I can get a job, you can get a job." Though her job wasn't a job at all... it was Jamie and a farce and it just came with a room in a building that was rowdy. (Simon was right about that part. And the smell.) "See, I got you beat then. I stole the mortgage payment one month from Jamie, he had to beg Monet to pay for it that month." She still wasn't sure how he had managed to convince her to help float him that month. "You're doing great. Have a drink and stop being a downer."

@beenclowned

Tabitha paused a moment. She had tried to keep shoving past when the woman bumped into her, but the other — well — she had a plan to talk. Working her jaw, she finally looked at the woman who had bumped into and waited for a moment, expecting something more to follow. "Go on then," Tabitha encouraged, waving her hand slightly. "What's the punchline to this? There's gotta be one, right?" The cotton candy hair was more than a hint that this had to be some sort of prank. "Is it my height? Couldn't see me all the way down here? Because if Rictor — tell that son of a bitch I'm gonna blow up his fucking plants when I get home."

God, she reminded him of Kasey. The anger, the rebellion, all of it. Miguel wondered if she would have gotten up to similar shit as Kasey in the latter half of the twenty-first century, wondered if she would’ve been one of those crazy freedom fighters who stood up to Alchemax until the day they vanished under circumstances that were only mysterious to people who had their eyes closed. 

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em?” It was phrased as a question, like an offering. An olive branch hanging between them. If she was as much like Kasey as he suspected she was, it probably wasn’t one she’d take. Kasey had always been one of many people who’d hated Miguel while idolizing Spider-Man. That had always been the sort of luck he had. 

In spite of everything, though… He liked the kid. She was familiar in a way that didn’t ache, and he could use more of that in his life. He really could. And it helped, just a little, that he thought she’d probably be okay when he bit it even if they did end up becoming friends. She didn’t seem like the sort who’d let it bother her. “Oh, yeah. Definitely miserable.” She followed him when he moved, and Miguel found some relief in that because the idea of leaving her alone in this state sent his stomach into somersaults. He’d been alone in similar ways often enough to know it never ended well. “Let me know when you see something you recognize,” he offered, “or if you need a couch to crash on. Mine’s a piece of shit, but it sits pretty comfortable.”

/

"I could live without them," Tabitha shot back with an edge of humor — most people, she could go without. (Most of the planet, really. The people she really cared about came down to a number that could fit on one hand.) But she understood where he was coming from. Or assumed, at least, that he was trying to paint the bleak world in brighter colors so that she wasn't drowning her body in vodka to dull the already weak colors from her mind. "Hard to do the whole, people are great thing, when you're like me."

Though, what she meant by that didn't come as easily. She was an outcast among humans because she was a mutant. And an outcast among mutants because she was too jaded to embrace their bullshit on their new island. (It was a nice idea. Everything was a nice idea. But that rarely meant that she was supposed to indulge in it as well. It was just... it was a fucking joke.)

Tabitha snorted in response, losing her balance only for a moment before extending her arms out and walking in a line as if it was some trick she had meant to do. "I never understood the appeal," Tabby replied, eyes on the ground now, frowning at each uneven bit she came across. "Like... you're still saying fuck even if you're using a different version of it. Like... you know it, I know it, the world knows it — just say the fucking word." Again, sprinkling in the word for extra measure. "I, uh..." She worked her jaw, trying to wrap her head around the offer, knowing her phone was likely dead and she couldn't call Ric to drag her ass out of this. A stranger's couch was going to be her best offer. "Is there pizza included? I'm starving."

Strictly speaking, Green Lanterns were in charge of the big stuff. It was their job to take care of threats that put entire sectors of the galaxy in danger, their job to ensure that planets upon planets of people were safe. Simon got that, he did. He traveled near and far to take out intergalactic bad guys, and he’d keep doing that because it was his job, but… It was impossible, wasn’t it, not to have a soft spot for home. And it was impossible not to have a soft spot for a drunk woman stumbling through the streets who reminded him a little too much of a couple of stupid twenty-something kids who’d gotten in a street race that left one of them in a coma, brain dead for years. So he loaded her up into his construct car, he put a damn seatbelt on her, he winced when she said she didn’t want to be safe. “Well, I want you to be safe. And I’m the guy with the keys! So!” (Technically speaking, there were no keys. The car was a construct made out of willpower. Simon didn’t think the engine was there for anything but looks. He hoped she wouldn’t call him out on it.)

“Maybe, but I’m banking on not getting pulled over,” he replied, flashing a grin. A foolish hope, probably, but a guy could dream. “A superhero,” he confirmed. “A pretty good one, actually! Google Green Lantern sometime.” He paused, realizing the search would yield way too many results. “Google most handsome Green Lantern. That should do it.” He made a face at the question, shaking his head. “Not an Avenger. Not that Iron Man hasn’t begged me. Seriously, he wants me bad. It’s embarrassing. The Justice League…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I used to be. But I’m too busy for it these days, right? Got my own stuff going on. In space.” As if he wouldn’t jump at the chance to rejoin the League. Simon worked best as part of a team. He figured Hal knew it, too. That was why he’d paired him up with Jess. “Okay,” he agreed with a shrug, “laser eyes is a tool. Whatever you say.” He cast another wary look towards her, trying to decide if she’d really blow him up. He hated the fact that he genuinely couldn’t tell. “It’s really important to me that the seatbelt stays on, actually. I know a guy who…” He trailed off, throat tightening up at the thought of Nazir, who was home with his son and alive, who didn’t hate Simon even if he ought to, who hadn’t died but should have. “I’d just rather it stay.”

/

Tabitha opened her mouth to argue, but, after a moment, her mouth fell shut and she simply frowned in the backseat, arms crossed and huffing as she thought of how many times people had pulled this shit on her. Though, usually, the battle was over the radio and not over the seatbelt. None of her friends practiced basic safety. Wasn't in their nature to even attempt to be safe. All motivated to create as much trouble as they could, daring death to claim them. The only one that death had ever taken from them, properly, was Rusty. Tabitha had always believed she and Ric would be close behind him. But it never happened. Tabitha was never sure if that was meant to be a blessing or a fucking curse. "Why do you want me to be safe?" Tabitha challenged. "I could be your worst fucking nightmare for all you know, and you're worried about my safety?" (A voice in the back of her head said that it was because he was a good person, in all the ways that she was lacking.)

Reaching for her phone, she was about to Google it just to see what the hell this guy was going on about, but then he hit her with most handsome and Tabitha didn't have enough sense to bite down her laugh. "What the fuck?" She asked, leaning forward, this time, less angry and frustrated, and more... trying to get a look at his face. "Is that something someone told you or is that you just... going balls to the wall with confidence?" He wasn't bad looking — but Tabitha had taken enough men home to know that the only thing men were good for were to add to her list of mistakes. His mention of the Avengers though... Tabitha made a gagging sound before shaking her head. "Only needy bitches join that team, but I guess that's true for any team." As if Tabitha wouldn't have killed to be among the X-Men, even for just a moment to have some goddamn recognition for everything she had done. There was something close to care in his voice, it wasn't for her, that much she knew, but it was there. And Tabitha wished she had missed it so she could keep kicking the back of his seat and pretending that he was just some jerk. "You are such a buzzkill."

(✉️ ➡️ explosion emoji ): yeah the trip was a bad idea but now i know better. i’ll be over, just going to lay here for a few minutes first. how have you been? 

Olivia’s cybernetic eye had stopped working at the same time as the power went out in the city, she was assuming they were connected, or more like hoped they were. She kind of doubted it though, it had started to act up a little even before this whole thing. Either way she was currently down an eye, which made things a little more difficult but she’d manage. Right now she focused on helping people, on keeping her anger under control, she could worry about her eye later. 

At Tabby’s question Olivia shrugged, it hadn’t really been a legitimate dare, more wanting to see if the other woman actually would. “I already owe Ric a dinner and I’m not made of money, so that’s not happening” at least not while the city was still completely chaos.

/

Something was off about Olivia and Tabitha, if she were a better friend, would have investigated beyond the causal once over. If it was something important, she'd tell Tabby. (Or so she assumed. At the very least, it took the pressure off her to give a shit.) "You already owe Ric dinner? You realize we're a package deal. That's as good as you owing me dinner too." Mostly because Tabitha self-invited to a lot of Ric's outings. "And here I thought you were the rich bitch that infiltrated our ranks."

Nia glanced up at Tabby. I can watch. Looking at Tabby’s face, Nia knew what she meant. It was touching, how immediately Tabby offered to keep an eye out, if Nia needed to let the vision happened. Knowing that Nia would be vulnerable, and watching out for her could make Tabby vulnerable too. Even if Tabby didn’t like Nia the way Nia liked her, Tabby cared. That much was undeniable. “Please, yeah. Off the street would be better.”

Most of the time, the visions were controllable now that she didn’t fight them. But the emotions running high mustn’t help with that. Nia could barely keep her eyes open. “It shouldn’t take long, but maybe it’ll help us figure out what’s going on.”

/

Tabby had never tried to do this before. Before—things just happened. She was drunk and it was a moment and it was meaningless and fleeting. That’s what she and her friends did best—in and out, leaving people no time to an acquire a taste for them, and no people outside their close-knit group of people suffering through the same trauma that came with war. (Caring about people was a choice, and she was making that one here.) “Pick a building, I think most of them are empty by now.” It had been a shopping district in the hours before, but now? It was nothing of the sort.

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding her head. The sooner this past, the sooner they could keep moving and the sooner Nia would be safe too. The last thing she wanted was Nia dropping in the middle of the street. (At least a building she could defend. In theory.) “Mattress store? Too obvious?” Tabby asked, shooting Nia a grin.

[text] i bet, im jealous actually. i just got back in town from a trip and im out of everything including candles.

          “Yeah, you would,” Zach huffed, flashing a hand through his wild hair on pure reflexive impulse, wincing and groaning harshly through his teeth at the searing pain that shot through the nerves in his fingers. He shook it out at his side, stray sparks from the last spell he cast clinging to the soot-spotted white gloves. He was bushed. All this helping people, helping heroes… It takes a lot out of a guy who can warp reality with a drunk’s worst nightmare. It wasn’t that he necessarily wanted to help all these idiots, but otherwise what the hell else was he going to do? Go to Hell? He couldn’t really do that without Eddie, and who knew which circle he was thrown in this millennium.

          “Fucking-… This is a travesty.” Another harsh growl at the back of his throat, staring the stranger’s way with more exhausted annoyance than the anger the pain was causing him. “Sorry, sweet cheeks, I don’t do quiet. I’m from Vegas, we’re all as loud as a room full of slots.” Gently pulling the gloves off his aching hands, Zach tried to check for any cracks. “Everyone should be freaking out. Might get our power back sooner if the public makes enough of a panic about it.”

He was trying to be smart but it didn't come out that way — or at least she doubted it came out the way that he had imagined. Tabitha looked him over again, wondering what he was like at his absolute worst, half wondering if Rictor would follow the same train of thought. (They were two peas in a pod, and if there was drama to be had, he'd be right there with her, prodding the people around them until they exploded. And this guy looked like he was one good shove away from a real scene. And in moments like this, she loved not being an X-Man. She didn't have to worry about appearances or any bullshit.)

(✉ → eager booty call?): i hate the fact that text would’ve been enough for me to fly over ten years ago (✉ → eager booty call?): did you really put “sex” on my calendar in between “board meeting” and “dinner with danny”? (✉ → eager booty call?): oh god, are you esteban’s friend? (✉ → eager booty call?): listen, kid, i’ll tell you the same thing i told him (✉ → eager booty call?): “you’re hot and all, but you’re 12” (✉ → eager booty call?): gonna pass xx

(✉️ ➡️ pain in the ass): i’m older and wiser than you are. (✉️ ➡️ pain in the ass): also, i’m not a goddamn idiot when i fight. you keep blowing shit up, you’re gonna end up in prison (✉️ ➡️ pain in the ass): great. i miss the sunshine. it’ll be a fun trip.

(✉️ ➡️ death metal ): older and crustier, maybe (✉️ ➡️ death metal ): you say that like there is a prison out there that could hold me (✉️ ➡️ death metal ): like the raft? bruh, the second i slip out of that collar, they’re going to be regretting putting me in a pressurized container (✉️ ➡️ death metal ): you know what? for that comment, i’m blasting your ass to uh

Claim to the crown. It wasn’t Tabby’s intention – she was rude, and uncouth, and a pain in the ass when she wanted to be, but she wasn’t cruel, not usually – but Jean felt tension settle on her shoulders, her lips pursing together. It sounded not unlike the accusation Erik threw her way, that the reason they’d ended his life was because they wanted power over Genosha that went entirely unchallenged. It made Jean sound less the chessmaster who saw everything coming, rather than a woman who, while intelligent, was merely reacting as the world threw mission after mission into unwilling hands. “I would dare them to,” Jean replied instead, pursed lips curving into a strained smirk. “It doesn’t seem to stop you from saying what you think.”

She wasn’t Rachel – Jean bit back the retort that nothing was more obvious. If Rachel was standing in front of her … well, there was an element of uncertainty in her reaction too. For all Jean knew about Scott, her own mind and actions had always been something of a mystery. That part, the part that was her, in Rachel – it was unpredictable. And then there was all her daughter had been through that she still didn’t know of. “Maybe it’s a request for a partner. Not everyone wants to place themselves above the people they fight with,” Jean replied. “It’s been a long time since I fought an almost entirely psychic battle. I’m rusty – and I always worked better with an anchor. Your energy …” Jean shrugged a shoulder. “It’s unmistakable.”

/

Tabitha snorted in response, almost smiling. Almost feeling like she had when she fell in with XFI and found her place among people like her. It didn't last though. At least, not as long as she was sure the other mutants would have wished. A moment where Tabitha wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs and challenging anyone who walked past her? It would have been a different world, if she could bottle that up. "And here I thought you didn't pay attention." A joke that she knew sounded a lot like a jab, but it was the closest that Tabby was willing to get to saying she noticed that Jean... maybe might have looked at her more than in just passing. Or at the very least, paid enough attention to know how loud Tabitha was about her feelings.