Dum Spiro, Spero

Okay, she's coming over here. Why is she coming over here. I'm literally just standing here. I'm not even doing anything . I don't even have a drink. What is --

Talking of which, Sarah doesn’t hesitate to slap away the little embarrassed emoticons that begin to circle her head as she realizes she had been rather presumptuous in a public setting. Hell, even if she did have haters, she is not nearly big enough of a deal for people to actively seek her out to deal with her. She probably needs to keep her ego in check, considering how the whole Under Armour debacle went. She might be trying harder now to become noticeable enough that Valerian would like to reassess her, but she is still no one in the eyes of most people. She can’t forget that.

In the end, though, she can’t lie to the other before her and she ends up sending her an apologetic grin accompanied by a shrug. For once, she is thankful that she isn’t streaming. 

“A little bit of a and a little bit of b,” she admits, raising a hand to rub the back of her head in embarrassment. “My offer is genuine, and I can point you to different movies based on what you want to watch, but Valerian keeps telling me to notice people who are apart from the crowd just in case… And well, you have kind of a presence? Can’t necessarily explain how, but I noticed you.”

She pauses. Narrows her eyes. Presses her lips as she hears how that sounds. 

Ajay idly watched the crowd that had gathered around the Flushing Town Hall. There were more people mingling around the entrance than would fit inside the venue and if he had to guess, most of them probably had not reserved a seat for the screenings. Here for another reason then.

Taking a deep breath, they nodded, and turned to look at Sarah. “ Yes. I mean, ‘no, I’m good.’ It can’t get any worse, right? ” He replied and winched internally. It had come out harsher than they intended and Sarah didn’t deserve anything but pure admiration from him at this point.

He knew she was just trying to cheer him up after the disaster that was that Appelle‑Moi article and the social media shit storm that had followed. She didn’t know that the only reason his team had approved this venture was because they thought that Ajay being seen with another woman might help slowdown the speed in which people online were talking about “Flarenix"— And he certainly didn't have the heart to tell her and potentially taint an aspect of their friendship. Especially not now when things with Keegan had gotten awkward.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of being known as a celebrity who was routinely spotted hanging around beautiful women, however — but it definitely beat being romantically linked to fucking Flare of all people. As he silently brooded over the events of the last two weeks, a realization suddenly struck him.

Reaching out, he gently put a hand on Sarah's shoulder to get her attention and asked, voice low and serious, “ Sarah, are you sure you want to be seen with me right now? There’s a chance you might get some backlash since Fl—that woman has crazy fans. I’d feel terrible if you to get caught in the cross hairs. ”

“Why did you have to go on and say that,” she groans playfully, using her elbow to tap him on his side a couple of times. “Haven’t you seen Saturday morning cartoon’s, man? Every time someone says ‘it can’t get any worse’ it does get worse!”

She is whining playfully, trying to distract them from whichever heavy thoughts have settled over their brow, but at the end she can’t quite manage, she notices. Not when their next words give her a hint of what they are worried about. Yeah, the article is an issue, and one that will likely haunt him for a bit, but she invited him out because of it, not in spite of it… Not that he knows, so she guesses his concerns are valid. 

“Ajay,” she begins slowly, her usual overemoting gone as she looks up at her friend with a serious expression, a hand raising to fall on theirs and squeeze reassuringly. “I promise I know what I am getting into. I asked your PR team permission for a reason. And really, her fans like me well enough! The smarter ones know I helped her get out of that PR mess during our time as a ‘team’ of sorts, and the less smart ones either shipped us a little or thought we were a pseudo-Batman and Robin group. I am not likely to get into the crosshairs at all. I might be popular with my fans, but I am not important enough for her fans to react too much.”

Seeing Sarah through the elevator doors lifts the corners of Keegan’s lips until they press against the bones of his cheeks. The smile comes effortlessly, as natural as ocean waves stirred by salt-scented winds. Whatever Keegan feels — a blend of serene calm and expectant excitement — seems well-founded; Slapstick is one of Valerian’s most popular talents, even if fans preface their admiration with, “…Even if she’s a C-rank…” as though softening the blow of loving a lower-ranked steward. Oscar Wilde once wrote about gutters and stars, and truly, even in the puddles of the gutter, starlight’s reflection remains beautiful.

“ Slapstick! How are you, jestie! ” He echoes her greeting, angling his cracked cellphone camera to capture her mind-bending hops. The chat had quieted since Sangrienta’s moment not long ago, but Sarah’s fandom seems to have surged into the mix. What were they called again? Slappers? Stickums? He’ll have to ask Sarah later.

It is an entirely nonsensical description, she knows, but the sort that paints a pretty clear picture for everyone that hears it. The fact that if one were to strain their ears as she spoke would allow them to hear little bells clinking in the distance only helps her case. 

Moving to sit next to Atlas, she lets her head fall on her shoulder as she peers into the bag with clear interest, eyes briefly meeting his phone’s camera and offering it a cheeky wink before returning his quick hug and waiting for him to continue his stream. She is here as a guest, after all, only to observe, and to create enough chaos to convince people to pay attention to Atlas. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Some socks would be nice! I run through them so fast because of patrol,” She agrees with a nod, allowing his remark about a stress ball to pass her by since from the sounds of it it’s probably best she just asks him about it while there are no cameras present. Looking at the smaller bag on his hands, she can’t help but giggle. “Oh that is funny. A little bag inside another bag. A bagtrishka doll of sorts.”

She ends her terrible pun with a loud snort, and her head falls from Atlas’ shoulders into the couch behind them as she covers her mouth to smooth her laughter. Sometimes her jokes aren’t funny at all to anyone but her, but the important part is to keep at it because if she is having fun, her viewers will feel at the very least a bit amused too. 

“Sorry, sorry, my dad puns take me by surprise sometimes,” she apologies with another snort, as her laugh petters off. “All I got were a couple of stickers, rest in pieces my dream for a tank top. Still, they were pretty cool, I think I am gonna put them in my water bottle.”

As quiet as the N.E.S.T was, it was in the moments like this when the hollowed filled with laughed over silly things, reminds Sabryna the reason she joined in the first place. It had always been about finding a place in community, the little moments in the mundane that made everything worthwhile and that little bit greater. As serious as the world can be at times, even with the falling apart of the N.E.S.T, it was more important than every to find moments where they can bond and laughter. The ones who were here all had there roles to play and balanced out everything well. Viamiti was simply mother, the one who kept everything in line. Mercedes was a hardwork and a realist, hence why Sabryna knew that she could talk with her, as they both wanted to do all that they could to make sure that everything was up and running.

But now, caught in the harmonies of laughter, bought them just that little bit closer. "I know I'm right about mother," Sabryna caught up in her infectious laughter, falling a little bit back into her seat, the phone tucked to the side of her now. But then the laughter dies down a little bit, as she hears the tapping of Mercedes fingers on the table. As much as their were moments of laughter, there were times like these when they got serious and rational about everything that they thought about. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she wanted to know her insight on the idea. As if anything where to come of it, it wouldn't be a project she would be doing on her own. Hopefully. Sabryna's gaze on her lightly nodding to each word. Sabryna was rather sure that if she were able to understand the basic principles of Amontons' Laws and understand the use of the coefficients of friction, then surely it couldn’t be that difficult to understand the basic metrics for social media. Right? The amount of social media managers that offered free tips and tricks online could be something they could use right? Not to forget, mother seemed to have her pulse on all the trends if not being ahead of them. So maybe asking Vaimiti for a tad bit of guidance wouldn’t be all that difficult. “I mean…I wouldn’t mind learning a thing or two about it. If it would help the N.E.S.T then I don’t mind spending the time.” Sabryna nods along, “Oh yeah…that’s why I also use AlterEgo for…the news.” If by the news you meant spoilers for the new season of Bridgeton or the fan edits of her OTPs then yes, yes very much so.  That was one thing that she admired about Mercedes; she had such grace and charm to her. Everything that the fellow volunteer did with such effortless beauty. She held a great admiration for learning about all the little details she did about her over the time that the two had worked together, from the way she harbours an affinity for books and the sort. The more that she got to know about her, the luckier Sabryna felt to call her a friend. As they also both seemed to share the same concern. "Yeah exactly. They are real people with real hearts," Sabryna commented with genuine hurt in her tone ,"And like I'm pretty sure half of them are staging stuff. Or things just can't be private." She pauses imaging her great love story being posts on AlterEgo, moments taken out of context. The thought alone made her heart ache.

Sabryna? Going to far in her thoughts? Never!

“Well,” she drawls slowly, noticing Sabryna’s reaction and wanting to give her a little more to make herself not seem as stiff as she probably had sounded. “To follow up on the news and on my favorite fandoms, honestly. But that still doesn’t mean I use it much. I prefer tumblr, and well. That doesn’t quite have an algorithm.”

She ends her admission with a small shrug and grin. It’s not like she is embarrassed of her hobbies, but she can admit that she doesn’t tend to talk much about her personal life while volunteering. Mostly, because she tends to focus on her task and then the next to make sure she finishes it, since if she gets too distracted she tends to procrastinate way too much with her ADHD. Her meds do help, but honestly, no solution is perfect.

“It’s hard for people to remember that about celebrities, especially stewards, since the media tends to sensationalize them and glorify them, even while ignoring the dirtier sides of their job,” she says, a grimace on her lips as she thinks of the Invictus cartoons. They had gotten her through childhood, yes, but looking back it does seem like rather bad taste to make a cartoon based on the real life of the people that had saved them all back during the excursion. In a way, she understands why the other sentinels remain estranged from the Great Boudica after she sold her life right away. A lot of what is shown in the cartoon is rather personal, and it is definitively a huge violation to their privacy and a betrayal to their friendship, she would say. 

“Though we can’t forget that modern stewards that are signed up to big agencies do tend to want the attention that fame and scandal brings for them,” she says dryly and perhaps a tad too cynically. Mercedes doesn’t necessarily talk about her opinions on the modern industry of professional heroism, because she knows her views are not quite mainstream, but well. Telling Sabryna a little bit wouldn’t be too bad, right? “And if they aren’t staging stuff, then it is the paparazzi and the newspapers trying to invade their private life, which sounds exhausting.”

There are truly so many reasons to keep working for BYOH, even if they are beginning to sell out as well. 

“Hold up,” she says, her train of thought derailing entirely as she turns to look at her with a bemused expression. “Why would I be wrong about calling you pretty? You are breathtakingly beautiful, like genuinely, Sabryna. You could be a model if you wanted, I swear. Or, well, since we are talking about AlterEgo, an influencer.”

She wants to say more, but the more Sabryna compliments her, the more her cheeks and ears burn until she has to bury her head in her hands to hide her embarrassed expression. 

“I mean, thank you for the compliment,” she offers, words muffled from behind her hands as she peeks from her fingers and offers her a grin. “But me being pretty and confident doesn’t detract from you being beautiful and charming. I think we have to call it even here. I think that is why Vaimiti likes us so much, she sees how great we both are.”

With: Sarah Smith ( @stcsis )

Anna stands inside the Museum of the Moving Image, letting the cool air settle over her skin while she decides whether she’s actually staying. She’d flashed her old student ID at the box office without shame in order to score three bucks off, which was a small victory. She hadn’t even checked what films were playing on opening night. The plan had been to meet Dev, wander around, maybe pick something at random, and pretend to be film students at the Q&A afterward.

She understands it, really. But that doesn’t mean she likes it. Still, it is worth it for times like this, when she is discussing the number of ticket sales with the organizers and being told that they surpassed expectations. It’s good that she is helping so many young artists and creators get noticed, especially considering how the film includes movies from multiple nations, not only the US. Diversity of viewpoints is always  a good thing. Is this thought that keeps a bounce on her step as she thanks the coordinators for the update and weaves into the crowd, slipping through bodies with a cheery smile and a wave as she considers the options for the movies that night. 

As she looks around, her eyes catch someone tucked away from everyone else, just out of reach from the flow of people going through the lobby. It’s enough of an oddity to have her slow down and change tracks, moving towards them with the same rhythm as before even if her eyes are sharp. She doubts anyone would be here to cause trouble, but it is always better to be safe than sorry. She had advertised her attendance rather loudly, after all, and she has quite a good number of haters. 

“Hello there,” she greets the stranger with a smile as she gestures around. “Do you need help finding the movie you came to see?”

˙⋆ ✮ ❥ who: sarah & trix ˙⋆ ✮ ❥ place: trixie’s house | manhattan, nkc ˙⋆ ✮ ❥ time: 04.29.2022 – nighttime

After a long past couple of days, Trixie makes her way back to her home in Harlem. She’s been considering moving, feeling like she may need a change of scenery and to get outside of Manhattan altogether soon – she’s always dreamed of a Victorian style mansion, and now that she could truly afford it, Manhattan wouldn’t be the place to find one in. Entering the front door of the rust colored brownstone she resided in, she immediately kicks off her sneakers before making her way into the living room and switching on the lights. The gold and ruby chandelier dimly illuminates the room in warmth, reviving a familiar air of comfort and peace. Tossing her backpack and keys to the side carelessly, she collapses onto her burgundy velvet couch with a deep sigh. Finding herself ruminating yet again, she’s startled by the sudden sound of her phone vibrating loudly on the floor beside her. She rolls her eyes, guessing it might be one of her managers calling to complain about her recent trash-talking the Under Armour campaign. However, she’s pleasantly surprised to see her best friend Sarah's name flashing on the screen. 

Biting the side of her cheek lightly to distract herself from the possible spiral, she takes a long breath and shakes her head, trying to shake off the train of thought as she steps off the subway itself. Looking around, she nods to herself as she doesn’t notice looking her way and pulls up her hoodie before merging into the wave of her body leaving the station. She forces a pep to her step as she goes, trying to leave the cloud of negativity behind and focus more on the girl's night ahead of her. 

It’s been a while since she had gotten to hang out with Bea, what with their schedules being as packed as they were. Somehow, they never seemed to match up lately. Bea with her interviews, and photoshoots and missions, and Sarah with her streams, patrols and the pet projects Valerian yeeted her way to humanize. Those last ones took a lot of time, considering how she had to match her schedule to whatever A or B rank steward had fucked up enough to become kind of scary to make sure they were humanized once more by having to tolerate her shenanigans. Always amusing, she has to admit, even if every successful campaign made it so Valerian was less likely to want to change her image. 

Shaking her head one last time before stopping before Bea’s door, Sarah takes a deep breath and locks her bitterness and negativity away in a safe and tucks the metaphorical key in a drawer. Then, she knocks, a smile spreading through her lips as she hears her friend get closer. 

“My beatiful friend!” She calls in return to Bea’s words, a little snicker leaving her lips as she returns the hug with enthusiasm, tapping Bea’s back a couple of times as a habit before stepping back and following her deeper into her apartment. Leaning against the counter, she considers her options for a long moment before reaching for her goblet and downing it with a quick motion. 

That is to say, Mercedes knows the faces of other A rank stewards, so it comes as a rather big surprise when the woman she tapped turns around and she finds herself in front of Sangrienta. Beatrix Villanueva is a rather interesting character, and her permutation is equally interesting. 

“Huh,” the sound of surprise slips through her lips, muffled by her mask, and silently Outis files away the information that it seems like the A ranker before her frequents the skating park. Not only does she seem to know the direction of lost and found, but she had been rather comfortable before she had interrupted her peace and quiet. Someone new to the park would have been more tense, she thinks. Or at least, she would be if she were in an entirely new environment. “Would you? That is very kind, thank you.”

As her words leave her lips, she is once again taken by surprise by Trixie’s next words. Exasperation mingles with amusement as she shrugs and nods. She is dressed rather oddly for someone just walking around, she knows, so she can’t begrudge her for her question, even if Mercedes doesn’t quite like having the directions to the lost and found hung over her head. Still, it is far easier to go along with the Valerian steward’s curiosity, rather than be stubborn about it and lose precious time she could use to fulfill another request or two. 

“Sure, that works,” she says with another nod as she follows the other deeper into the park. “A pleasure Trixie, you can call me Outis. I am a BYOH steward, and well, I do prefer some degree of anonymity. Ergo,” she gestures to her whole get up with extensive hand gestures and an air of amusement that she tries to communicate through her posture, “all the layers. It is also helpful if I am fighting someone, since I can’t afford fancy gear just yet.”

At Trixie’s follow up question, Mercedes hums thoughtfully and pulls out her phone from her pocket, scrolling through it until she finds the BYOH app and pulls up her request, turning the phone around to show the other a photo of the skateboard she was asked to retrieve. 

Sabryna had two options: lie and say it was her finger slipping whilst hunting through the tags or tell the truth that, yes, yes she actually was looking directly at the thirst traps. Because hello? There was an art to making the perfect edits. The precious moments that needed to be captured. Finding the perfect match shot to the lyric choices. A song that encapsulated everything. Just a few seconds of capturing Vaitimit’s excellence. Just how What…Sabryna might have watched a few amvs here and there as a teenager as she didn’t have time to indulge in fandoms due to working hard all the time. Unlike now, where she doomscrolled all her OTPs to death. Some of those edits were always on point!   Okay…wait now to come to think of it, Sabryna could see the visionary that Vaimiti was and so easily creating these herself. Slightly reminding her of the one or two she saw of herself back in her competing days. Thought those hardly had any views with terribly grain footage overlayed with that iMovie filters everyone adored on the early days of Youtube.      Still flushed in her cheeks as she stood up from scooping up her phone. At least Mercedes had watched them too. “Yeah I did,” Sabryna admits, as denial would just be a silly thing to do. “Honestly, it is pretty on point song choice.” She tilts her head a little bit, lightly laughing at her observation. “You really think that she would do the same thing twice? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her wear the same outfit twice. So I highly doubt even thirst traps would be any different. She really does have a vision.”  Sabryna drops herself into a seat across from Mercedes, stretching out a little bit before the shift to face her a little bit. “Maybe we need to look at the analytics and that could help us know what demographic and markets we have a chance with…and maybe the ones we aren’t hitting as much?” Sabryna wasn't an expert in social media, but with everyone wanting to be famous, it seemed numbers and engagement were the way to do it. Yet possibly, that could be a starting point for them making a plan of action. A strategy even!

“That’s….that’s an option too…” her tone drifts off, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t really Sabryna who had been asked more the lines of Swizzle has been asked to make an appearance on the NBC shows. Part of her doubted that she would make good television but if it meant doing something to attract funding for N.E.S.T would it really be all that bad? “I mean…it is an option to go for. But there is a lot to consider personally you know? Like, there is a kinda exposer that you have, sure it could be great but have you seen some of the people on AlterEgo? Sometimes they forget that it is real people they are talking too. Just like how you and I are talking now.”   

“You are right, you are right,” she admits raising her hands in defeat, laughter dancing on the tip of her tongue as she does. Tiring as it was to keep working to keep the center alive, she couldn’t deny that moments like this made it worth it. The sense of community that came from being around other permuted and seeing them laugh freely was wonderful, and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. That is why she has to keep working, even if it all seems hopeless for now. “Vaimiti would be caught dead before being caught repeating herself, I am just surprised it applies to videos too. Those take a lot of brainpower to make.”

She pauses for a moment at Sabryna’s suggestion, eyes narrowing in consideration as she considers the option as she taps the table rhythmically. 

“Huh, yeah that is a good idea. I just,” she grimaces as she glances at Sabryna and shrugs. “I am not going to lie, I have no actual clue how to check analytics and all that. I am not a huge social media sort of person, to be honest. I just have AlterEgo to keep up with the news and things like that.”

And maybe to cyberstalk some of the A rankers out there as well, to see if there is any situation that needs her interference or not. RealHeroTV doesn’t do live streams, so it's hard to know where the biggest crises are most of the time, unless she was specifically asked to be part of a mission because of her own rank. 

“Yeah, that is what has me concerned too,” she admits with a sigh, eyes finally turning back to face Sabryna as she nods. Another reason she doesn’t use AlterEgo all that much is because she doesn’t quite like online fans of real people. Mercedes loves things like fandoms for superhero comics and animes and so on, but when it comes to real people? Some fans get a little intense in a bad way. “Being behind a screen tends to make people forget that the person on the other side is real too, and that is pretty uncomfortable.”

public open starter for @invictushq ft. valerian muses

setting: valerian tower lobby floor waiting room, manhattan, nkc

timeframe: april 28, 2022.

capped at 5!

content warnings: reference to sexual humor.

A phone outstretched and held high overhead, Keegan Jeong poses with the nylon drawstring bag from Under Armour, doing his due diligence to get the branding on point by taking multiple shots. One is too fuzzy, another the logo gets blurred, and the third one has awful lighting on him but at least the bag looks somewhat enticing. Although sponsorships aren’t his expertise, Keegan, as a Marvel VS. Capcom Stan through and through, understands the necessity of advertising a featured Collab. (Also justice for Cloak & Dagger, that gameplay would’ve been amazing had the dev team pulled through.)

Thumbs rapidly pressing, keys reacting underneath with flashes of color and a feedback of haptic vibration, Keegan types out the following alt to send on his official AlterEgo account, @officialatlas1 (yes, someone has his handle before he could have it, and no, it is not a pressing matter for Valerian to pursue this matter for someone who gets relegated to RealHero TV B-roll.)

@officialatlas1 going live now to check out the sweet loot from the new Valerian x Under Armour drop!! I wonder what Durapeak®️ is gonna feel lik|

Keegan shakes his head and pauses mid-text. “ Feel like? When am I a fabric connoisseur? ” He mutters to himself and tries again.

With that in mind, she rushes to pull out her phone from her pocket, causing it to slip from her hands as she does. What proceeds it’s a full minute of scrambling to keep the phone from reaching the ground as a small cloud develops around her as she kicks up the metaphorical dust that always seems to appear whenever she is stumbling or tripping. In the end, the phone is on her hand and she has an expression of triumph on her face. She is also ignoring the odd looks from a few B rankers passing by, but that isn’t anything new. People always tend to stare at her, a side effect of never quite seeming to stay still on one side of reality, and always wavering between cartoonism and realism. 

Unlocking her phone, she opens AlterEgo and types a quick post for her followers, smiling when she hits post and immediately begins to see the likes. There is a warm and fuzzy feeling inside her as she continues scrolling through AlterEgo until her finger stops scrolling and her eyes fall on a post from Atlas. Her brows raise and her already wide smile widens as she types a quick message before quickly jumping on his stream. As she is watching, Sarah moves to the elevator, noticing his surroundings and knowing where he is at a glance. A part of her feels bad crashing on his stream, but she also knows that if she does that she will drag some of her own fans his way and that might give him a boost in followers. Popularity is the name of the game that Valerian plays, and it is unfair. There is no ignoring that. So she wants to do what she can to make sure her fellow C rankers get the attention they deserve. After all, they might not be as flashy as B or C rankers, but what they do still matters. 

No matter what anyone else says.

Stepping out of the elevator, she looks around for Atlas, expression brightening when she hears him call out. Turning around to face him, she waves comically and bounces her way to him on two rather unrealistic bunny hops. 

“Atlas, hi!” She says to her friend first, before turning to the viewers and blowing them a kiss —  which, because she is who she is means that the kiss emoji leaves her lips and makes its way to the screen so the viewers feel as if their screen had been kissed — and wink — accompanied by the twinkling star effect that always happens when she winks— . “And hellooo everybody! I saw Atlas post on AlterEgo and I just had to drop by. I am really excited to see what you get!”

She finishes her words with a little clap as she wiggles in place and tries to peer towards Atlas’ bag. All very exaggerated, but she has big emotions and she likes to emote big. It makes the added effects from her permutation look better, after all, and a lot less out of place. 

“What are you hoping for?”

As he runs down the street to catch a bus downtown, Hikaru tells himself that the past twenty-four hours were just a dream. While people avoid eye-contact with him, he’s unable to grasp material reality with full awareness and merely looks past them, past everything. The moving scenery beyond the windows holds his attention for most of the ride as city lights flicker on until they go through a tunnel and Hikaru sees his reflection on the glass. A blank, expressionless surface save for a spot of oxidized blood under his nose stares back at him. He frowns; the reflection remains emotionless. He forgot to switch out the bandages. Gross. Hikaru turns away and all but rushes off the bus when it reaches his stop. 

       He’s walking down an alley, between two old and towering apartment buildings, and waiting on a ping from his phone when a familiar voice rings out from above. Hikaru stops and looks up, sees Outis’ familiar mask, and can’t help the smile that blooms on his face. Of course, it doesn’t show through the layered bandages, but he hopes the enthusiastic waving is enough to convey his excitement. He watches as she gets up and effortlessly vaults over the fire escape railing, climbs down a few window sills, and lands on the street beside him. Hikaru, not for the first time, is impressed by how simply cool she is. 

He eagerly listens to her question, then points at his phone with a shrug. It shows BYOH’s home screen with three small dots indicating that he’s still waiting to get pinged for a job. He’s ready to take anything. The fact that he’s downtown reeks of desperation, but Hikaru is trying to make at least fifty bucks tonight... Hopefully.

Outis doesn't need to know how dire his straits are. He tilts his head when she brings up the Cleaner, realizing that her encounter doesn’t align with his. Two days ago, before Hikaru got displaced, he had a confrontation with a tall man who followed another freelancer and would’ve ‘cleaned them out’ had Hikaru not intervened. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, by the time he got a headache and, before he knew it, found himself a few decades in the past. Horrible stuff. He’s glad Outis has been on the lookout. 

He holds up a finger—hold on—as he digs into his back pocket and pulls out a small pocket journal. Hikaru flips to a blank page and hastily scrawls out a note that he hands over. 

“Waiting to go to a job then,” she clarifies with a brief nod, understanding what he means. Truly, the most irritating part of it all, the waiting. There are only so many hours in the day, and their hope is always to ensure that they are able to do as many jobs needed to make rent or to be able to afford groceries. It can be hard, since requests tend to be seasonal and monthly, so the lulls in activity come as unexpectedly as the times when there are far too many requests for the number of stewards available. Yet, for all that such times are an annoyance like no other, it is still far better than anything Valerian is able to offer. After all, unlike the megalodon of a company, there is a certain level of freedom and certain freedom of movement that is afforded to the BYOH stewards. Even if it comes from the side effect of being overworked and underpaid. “I am doing the same, to be honest. I finished a couple of jobs in Brooklyn but now  I am trying to get a couple more done in the area before I head out for the day.”

She had started early, that day, her mind overfocused on how both BYOH and N.E.S.T. had gotten offers to appear on different reality TV shows during the same frame of time. It is an odd coincidence, and one that sort of bothers her, even if she knows it is likely just that: a coincidence. 

“Honestly, the Levy twins should be focused on finding a way to ensure there is always a steady supply of jobs, rather than trying to sign us up for TV shows,” she grumbles with a sigh, raising a hand to rub the bridge of her nose, but stopping halfway through for a moment as she remembers that she is wearing goggles, moving it then to rest at the back of her neck, pulling at her braid absentmindedly. “We could all afford to take more jobs instead of just being on air.”

Not that she has too much room to talk, she can admit. At the end of the day, she does sell some of her footage to RealHero TV every once in a while, but that seems rather different than participating on Dancing with the Superstars or something like that.

Her train of thought is sidetracked when she notices Fuli163 raising his finger, and she closes her mouth behind her mask to wait and see what he has to say. Eyes trailing down to the paper, she hums with interest.