Dum Spiro, Spero

public open starter for @invictushq ft. again, whoever man, if you can get in the building he's here setting: Valerian Universal Towers, Manhattan, NKC timeframe: june 20, 2022

Gravitas is slouched in one of the lobby’s overstuffed guest couches, legs stretched out in front of him. He has on his usual helmet, but out of respect for the July humidity, he’s opted for lightweight joggers and a breathable athletic tee. He’s seen more than one suited administrator come melting through the lobby. It’s too hot for sleeves and professionalism, he’s not about to suffer for aesthetics when he’s already on payroll.

Odd enough to provoke her curiosity. Odd her enough to push her forward one step, and then another, until she is standing next to him and peering over his shoulder to note what he is doing. Seeing the chess on his phone’s screen makes her snort, loud enough to be noticed maybe. 

“Good morning, Mr. Gravitas,” she offers a greeting with a grin, unashamed at her noisiness. After all, if he is at the lobby and not at the A rankers private lounge, then he must want to be bothered by the little people of the agency. Why make himself so easily accessible otherwise? “Welcome to Valerian! Hopefully New Everwick has been good to you so far.”

Ajay shakes his arm slightly so that Sarah’s is wiggled where they’re hands connect. “ You know I don’t believe in superstitions. ” He teases, giving her an exaggerated pout just to be a contrarian.

The frown is short lived though, as a smile twitches at the edges of their lips. They struggle to fight the instinct to let a grin split their face in two at her joke, somewhat embarrassed to find something so cheesy funny. He snorts at her follow up question and shakes his head, nose scrunching at the mental image of his body in the classic Robin outfit. “ Nah, I think I’d go with the Damian Wayne look. ”

His expression softens when he turns to look at Sarah and sees the bashful look on her face, happy that she seems to have taken some of it to heart. He wished that he could do more for her, but after years in the industry, Ajay is acutely aware of how big of a role marketability played into steward ranking, regardless of the company line the F.B.A.I. shilled.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he said she had the innate skills to climb up the ranks, but he knew it was all dependent on the higher ups deciding to giver her a push. He watches her eyes flick away and follows with his own gaze, matching eyes with someone nearby who jumps slightly before raising a hand to wave. The person standing next to the onlooker grabs their hand and pulls it down, hissing something too quietly for Ajay to hear from where they stand.

They click their tongue, they knew when they agreed to this that there would be a crowd, but they didn’t think they’d get surrounded this fast; or that the audience would be filled with a bunch of eavesdroppers who had all the subtly of a bull in a china shop as they lifted their phones to sneak pictures.

Ajay is all at once markedly cognizant of the fact that their hands are still intertwined with Sarah’s and a wave of guilt overtakes them. For all his talk about looking out for her, he was current taking advantage of her kindness and their friendship; using her as a shield to muddy the waters when it came to the ‘*Flarenix’* issue by waving one of his known platonic relationships in front to the public to make the clips of him and Flare look less damning in comparison.

Giving Sarah’s hand one final squeeze and a smile, they gently disentangle their fingers from hers and then stuff their hands into their pockets.

“ Let’s head inside first so we can get all our ducks in a roll before we gotta start interfacing with the public. ” They finished their sentence with a pointed look at their audience.

“Ah, my mistake, I forgot you are the edgy brooding type,” Sarah says with a dramatic nod, snickering a little at her words even as she eyeing Ajay with consideration. Realistically, Damian’s Robin outfit is one of the better ones so she can’t judge them too harshly with it, but it is funny that they choose him over all the others when the public would say they both have similar personalities. Shows how much they know Ajay… Or well, how little, since Sarah truly would never be able to agree with the way mainstream media portrays him. She knows him too well to do so. And perhaps she is being bias too, but she thinks he is a sweetheart, and hearing the public say otherwise never sits well with her. “Though, I do think you would look good in a costume designed like Damian’s.”

Another snicker leaves her when she sees their disgruntlement with the crowd, and she feels a tad guilty for that. She knows that Ajay isn’t the fondest of the publicity side of their job, but it is kind of funny to see his reaction when she invited him and explained that she expected the public to swarm them as soon as they got there. 

Still, she recognizes the moment he remembers where they are, because her hand feels suddenly cooler as their hand leaves hers, and she can’t help the wistful sigh that escapes her before she puts her media face on. If only the world didn’t obsess with romance… She would love to hold hands with her friends outside without having to worry about the rumors. 

He could feel his heart hammer heavy against his ribs. How strange a place it was for him and find to himself in, how easily it was him to slip into protector mode without the mask or uniform on. He had no Silver Meridian to hide behind. Just Cassius. Yet there he stood between Sarah and danger without a second thought. No matter what. That certainty struck him harder than the fear even could.

Though...what was this feeling? He could feel it in his chest, unfamiliar enough to unsettle him. Protecting people is in their nature, partly that he was an a rank hero, partly because it was his duty. It was an easy choice for him to put himself in harms way to protect other. But this...this was different. Something about the thought of that twists inside him as this feeling was something was far more personal. It was like a blurring between the too and it was only a side that Sarah would ever get to witness.

He knows that there is something there but he was scared to put a name to it. There was care but there was something greater that lingered as he looked over his shoulder to meet her warm eyes. As he softly follows her gaze, as in times like these she would be the one who would be the expert on the perimeters of the apartment even though he was finding himself more acquainted to them slowly.

And then a hot flush over comes him making him drop his guard as the looney toons that he never had the luxury of watching as a child but know about in passing was playing on the tv. Sarah laughs and he can't help but chuckle silently too only as a means to hide his own embarrassment.

“Yeah, no kidding,” she admits with a giggle, keeping her gaze on the screen to avoid him noticing the way her eyes are no longer as bright as a minute ago. Reality has finally broken the spell, and she needs to keep her feet on the ground, lest she allows herself to daydream too far and fly away into the sky. “I guess I need to stop leaving the TV on in the background huh?”

She glances back at him with a smirk at the words, eyes turning into half-moons as her smile widens for a moment, then she turns back around and moves towards the remote, turning the TV off once and for all. No need to get caught in another scare, after all. 

“Oh! Sure! Where are my manners, I forgot to offer you anything,” she says, shaking her head at herself as she turns towards the kitchen and heads towards the fridge, calling at him over his shoulder. “Anything you want in specific? I remember you mentioning you like whiskey last time, so I bought some Macallan the other day. On the rocks, right?”

Peace....Eeshika could finally have some peace. Maybe a bubble bath where she can hide out the noise of her own thoughts. Baggy clothes and some chai. Maybe even take a moment or two to prep some thank you notes to those who were kind enough to give her gifts. It was the least that she could. Being grateful, even if it was for a situation that she doesn't want to be.

And then she pauses.

Hearing her last name called makes her flinch. It wasn't a name she hardly answered to these days as it was almost exclusively reserved for hospital waiting rooms or signings or official documents. She had grown so use to answering to her steward name and accustomed to her nicknames. In the years, she had grown distant from the family it belonged too, and with that distance came the habit of forgetting it was hers aw well. As there is hope to one day that last name would be changed.

So it took her a moment to release that the person was calling for her. Which again makes her pause, who on earth would be calling her so impersonally? Who would have such a disconnect from calling her by any other of her chosen names? She listens out, and it is when they sigh, she knows exactly who it is. "H-Harper?" Eeshika whispers to herself on the other side of the door, taken back that the AxieL Ghostwriter was actually making a visit to her place unprompted.

Maybe it was Eeshika's own imagination but she could have sworn that there were days that Harper...it wasn't hated her more like didn't get on with Eeshika. Sure it could just be all in her head, with the way that she would push her harder during vocal runs, making her repeat sections harder than the other AxieL members. There were other times that she couldn't help but feel like something was just a little bit off. Others had reassured her that it was all in her head, and just maybe they were right.

After all, she might dislike Eeshika for having what Harper always dreamed of and not having the guts to voice her opinion to management, but that and this are entirely different matters. Whether Harper likes it or not, they are both queer women of color in the industry, and that comes with a certain level of attention from the public and solidarity from their own. Harper is safe from most of the worst of it because she is relatively unknown and because she had the choice to come out. Eeshike has neither the protection of anonymity nor was she given the choice to come out on her own terms. 

Harper is not cruel enough not to show some level of care when she is able to put two plus two together and get the right result. 

“I know, trust me,” she admits with a sigh. She didn’t have to, but unfortunately for her, she does have some conscience. Now, she is not Eeshika’s favorite person either, so she won’t be taking too much of her time, considering how it goes exactly against what she wants to accomplish, but she still needs to offer the other something. And staying out in the hallway might just bring more attention to Eeshika of the unwanted sort. “And don’t worry, I won’t stay for too long. I just wanted to drop off the care basket and explain the items inside so you can use them the way intended. Don’t want to take too much of your time, since you probably want some me time I am guessing.”

Apparently @.oluminateme liked it and that was another big deal because the spiders were obviously representative of some unspoken love that only the Real Fans recognized. The trending tags are a mess:

#GaySpidersForPride

#EightLegsOneTruth

#ArachnidComingOutArc

#BunmiBlinkTwiceIfYoureDatingHim

He can’t be upset about Siren livestreaming on her birthday -- they were all expected to do so -- but PR couldn’t have staggered the timings? He’d only listened to the first thirty seconds or so of the stream before putting it on mute, but apparently, she’d decided to come out on stream, which was also causing havoc across his timeline:

#BiRightsButMakeItLivestream

#SirenBisexualEra

#HappyBirthdayBiIcon

#EeshikaDroppedTheFlag

He doesn’t even know who this Eeshika person is, but even she’s trending. Not that he’d expected his announcement to trend but maybe he’d hoped for a little buzz? A tiny baby buzz? Instead, there is only:

#GaySpidersAndBiSirens

#SpiderBisexualCrossoverEvent

And thus, sunk like a stone, went his carefully crafted, heartfelt EP announcement.

He takes a deep breath and sets his phone face-down on the desk when he hears the door open.

Harper slips into the room like she owns the space -- the way she enters any room, honestly. Yiming doesn’t entirely know why she spends time with him when she’s so forthright and outspoken. And Yiming is not. She’s loud and confident in ways he’s forgotten how to be anywhere on stage.

But she carries an extra bottle of water for him -- which he accepts gratefully -- and she drags him out of his producer office to focus on songwriting when he's been locked in there for a few days. Sometimes she looks at him like she expects him to do something interesting. He never knows what to do with it.

“Yesterday was a lot,” he says, hoping that he doesn’t sound dramatic or dismissive. He doesn’t think they’re talking about the same thing, but he doesn’t want to pry into her personal business. “I was waiting for you.”

He hesitates, then adds, “Actually, I might have a different distraction for you? I can finally talk about what I’ve been working on. -- Well, I could talk about it before, but I didn’t want to. Psych myself up before it was ‘official’ official.” He’s nervous and rambling. He stops, averting his eyes to the desk to refocus.

“I finished it,” he continues. “My EP. And I wanted you to hear it first. If you’re okay with that.”

“In more ways than one,” she says dryly, eyes rolling a little at the entire debacle and what followed. Not only had Eeshika come out, but Equinox had also stirred the gay pot entirely by accident. A messy messy way to start pride, and to draw attention from any other sort of announcement done by literally anyone else during that time. Now, Harper does enjoy her internet drama every once in a while, but only when she won’t be tangentially or directly affected by it, and unfortunately, everything to do with Eeshika affects her one way or another. 

"According to those stupid forums, I don't do shit. Jaylen does." Sunny said with a click of his tongue. He can try to hide his bitterness but sometimes he couldn't. Equinox was one of those things he couldn't deny stir feelings.

"I make sure the staff fridge is stocked with goodies though..."Sunny said in a seemingly distant voice. He rubbed his temples. Being nonchalant without his sunglasses and stupid invisalign is harder than he thought. There was a headshake and tried to turn his attention to the other.

“Me?” An inelegant snort escapes her as she gestures at herself, a brow raised in bitter amusement. “I appreciate the confidence in my importance, but I matter little to David and management. I am as much of a ghost to them as my job title implies.”

Not her favorite thing to admit, but it is true, and she is not about to lie to someone who has first row seats to it. 

“Oh yeah,” she drawls sarcastically as she drops her hand and begins tapping the table in front of her rhythmically. “Because the forums know what is going behind the scenes so well and don’t tend to be biased in favor of the most popular band members at allll.”

Unfortunately, the music industry is a game of popularity, and Jaylen would never not be on top. Unless something drastic were to happen, and if it does… Well, all of Kardinal would likely be affected. 

“You do that and more,” she says with a long look as she tilted her head and considered Sunny thoughtfully. “People notice, by the way. Maybe not the public, but those of us in Kardinal that are easily forgotten and replaceable definitively notice.”

A snort as she shakes her head. 

“A few but not too many. But they tend to happen a lot behind the scenes.”

With the Dance competition coming up and a mission set up, the Valerian steward was more busy than not. The anxiety existed in waves that came and went. And, while they were especially present at night, Adhara had learned how to find the simple pleasures in life to compensate. Tonight was full of them. Music had always been one, along with good company. Adhara had been cursed with a terrible (real) voice and an even worse ability for playing musical instruments, but at least she could dance. At least she could appreciate the rhythm and feel it in her soul until it cured all her emotional ails, however brief. She loved all genres of song, and enjoyed parts of each new artist that the media brought out. She longed for the day a certain name would be among them.

There were nights, especially like that one, where Adhara found herself floating with rare joy because the schedule was done. No evening plans or events meant that she could remain home. At first, she'd asked Naya is she wanted to watch a movie - but the 9 year old insisted that she wanted to spend the night over at her friend's house. So, Adhara thought to take her daughter's example and invite one over herself. Music was blasting in the house, the TV was off, the entire kitchen smelled like good food.

Adhara peaked over from the next room when she heard the door open. "There's my favorite artist, I made your favorite and it came out... perfect!" She made an exaggerated motion of a chef kiss. Then, as she disappeared from view: "Take your shoes off, or the spoons flying at you! Oh, and you gotta tell me how those french horn practices are going!"

Tonight, though, she is lucky enough that there are no apparent disasters on the horizon. At most, there is the reminder of Eeshika coming out, looming over their heads ominously. But that is the only thing of any note in the past week or so, so she allows herself the time to go out of her way and accept Adhara’s invitation, paying great care to keep herself hidden under the hood of her hoodie as she makes her way into her neighborhood and then her house. As much as she loves her friend, she thinks it would be too troublesome to get involved with a steward in a scandal sort of way. After all, it would drive people to look closer into her job, and she really doesn’t want that. 

“I’m pretty sure you said the last time you cooked my favorite too,” she pointed with amusement as she bends down and begins unlacing her boots. “And what did we get in the end? A burned Spanakopita.”

Admittedly, it had been delicious, but she is not about to go admitting that out loud, when it was still pretty burned. Specially when she privately thought Adhara needed to get more comfortable with not being perfect, because that particular aspect of her had been getting worse and worse lately. 

Walking deeper into Adhara’s place once her shoes were off, Harper snorted at Adhara’s question, a light smile sitting on her lips as she approached the kitchen. 

“Not as good as I wanted. Seems I am more of a natural with string instruments than with wind ones,” she admits, stopping at the threshold of the kitchen and resting her hip against the frame as Adhara’s form enters her vision. “I do think Naya might like it, since the first lessons are just blowing into a big horn and making ungodly noises. I know I would have loved it as a kid.”

"Well, if it isn't a legend in the flesh," Raina greeted casually, grinning over at the other woman before turning to the approaching food staff. "The usual please," she asked. The staff nodded and Raina took that opportunity to turn her attention back to Sarah. It had been a long time since she saw her in person. Raina avoided watching RealHero TV, but it was impossible to avoid snippets of Slapstick on social media or in the news.

She took a slow breath, taking that time to silently process her own emotions. Sarah looked the same as always, if not a bit more tired. But Raina was probably the same, as she had just come out of a 12 hour shift in the ER. This woman's appearance had once made Raina's heart skips beats and thump painfully against her ribcage. Now, she just felt some warmth from the familiarity.

Raina's heart was steady now, and her mind at ease. All the regret for Sarah's chosen path had to be laid to rest, or she would never get peace. It was not her life to control, had never been, no matter how much she would have hoped to spare her fellow permuted from the type of people that would control her. Not that Sarah would even knew they were fellow permuted in the first place.

"You look good, Smith."

Glancing up slowly, she meets Raina’s eyes and sends her a weak smile joined by a nod of acknowledgment. 

“That is me!” She says weakly, before clearing her throat and straightening up as she slips her phone in her back pocket. Slowly, she brings back a polite smile to her face and she clasps her hands behind her back, bouncing on her heels as if trying to get the nervous energy to leave her body. “But to be fair, I am more of an urban myth than an actual legend. That stuff is better left to describe the Valerian A Rankers.”

Taking a deep breath, she rolls her shoulders and prepares herself for what will be an unbearably tense conversation. She thinks. 

Keep on smiling, Eeshika reminds herself parodically as the cameras are still rolling, well the livestream was still going and the audience was coming in with more questions than answers she was willing to get. Part of her loathes the person who suddenly conveniently remembered that it was her birthday and suggested that her coming out video should instead be hosted on her annual livestream. A video would have been more contained, more connivant, so clearly that would not have been the option that they would be going with.

Why give Eeshika more time to process the burning questions that were being thrown her way? There would have been so much control to the outcome as the audience would not be waiting in the comments as her and her team could decide carefully what to address, how to address and work on a story that the company would have wanted. But on a livestream, that wasn't the case.

On live, anything and everything can happen, as much as she tried to prepare for it. Everything was coming in live, how the fans are feeling in the moment, the repeat comments of the burning questions that they were repeated over and over knowing fully well that she had seen it and maybe not chosen to acknowledge it. After a while, the comments became a rushing blur and overwhelm, as she tries to keep it light, serious and full of tears, just as she had been told too. Eeshika hadn't anticipated the support from Sunny half way through the stream or Anna to suddenly show up half way through and be the top comment and then suddenly go. And those were only just some of the highlights that had happened. She had no control over the narrative as it was starting to unwind and overwhelm. What else could happen during the livestream?

A lot. That was the answer for sure.

She held it together as long as she could, waving goodbye as the stream came to a natural end and her contracted time to stream. Waving out with a tight smile on her face, as she could finally end the stream. The moment the stream ends, her smile falls, her eyes still glassy as she collapses a heap on the floor.

Thirty-one and still fighting to be loved. Fighting to be adored on another level on a line she never thought she would be made to cross. Tears well even more in her eyes. What a way to be spending her birthday. But she knew, god she knew that this was only going to be the start of it with this falling on Pride. The accusations she was already getting. The expectation for her to be the face of this new shift in Kardinal, yes from her own doing but her stomach feels a little sick.

Even if she is more than aware that her grudge on Eeshika Kaylan is unjustified, thanks to long talks with her therapists. She is more than aware that she is placing all the blame of her permutation manifesting during Astronomical Boys & Girls on her, even when logically it doesn’t make any sense. Emotions don’t have to make sense though, and she doesn’t want to bother on working through her resentment as long as Bubblegum doesn’t push the boundaries of the role she has been crammed into by Magarian. Is it unfair? Yes, but Harper is dissatisfied at her lack of rebellion she sees from her, even knowing the weight on her shoulders. None of the members of AxiaL will reach their full potential if they keep allowing Magarian to push them into molds, and it’s frustrating to see that if she hadn’t had her harpy transformation manifest when it did, she could have possibly been in their shoes.

“Fuck it,” she mutters under her breath and begins walking again towards the door, going through the door to Newpoint Vistas, showing her ID at the door and going in with a languid pace. She might not have all the time of the world, but she doesn’t want to show any sort of rush when reaching Eeshika’s door. It’s already unbelievable enough that she is paying a visit to her unprompted, no need to confuse her further by making it seem like she was in a rush to get to her. 

She had been, of course, but it was more because the faster she gave Eeshika the gift basket, the faster she would get to go home and pretend that the day had not happened at all… At least for tonight. She will have to deal with it again tomorrow, but that is her problem for then. 

Reaching Eeshika’s door, she raps the door twice, and waits a few seconds before calling out. 

Truth be told, Athena's never actually had a friend before meeting Mercedes. She was typically the teacher's pet, who stayed behind to ask more question, who reminded the teacher to collect the homework, and would often eat with the teachers instead of wandering around the lunch hall. She now understands that said teachers would have likely rather have been left alone to decompress, but appreciates the empathy and time spent.

This hasn't changed much in adulthood.

The years spent at university were in classrooms, professor's offices and the library. She hadn't put much effort forward to socialize, and the only person who seemed interested in the same subject matter was Mercedes. Athena beamed as her old friend finally made her way to the exhibit, and she turned her notebook around to show her the notes taken so far.

Not only did she get particularly grumpy whenever she didn’t have any friends and didn’t spend any time with other people, but as she grew older she began to realize that she needed to have good social skills in order to be a steward and a lawyer. After all, having a silver tongue was necessary in both fields. Even if she hated how much of a fame game professional stewardship had become, there is no denying that the media pays a lot of attention to stewards, so not having good social skills would be crippling in situations that required her to engage with people.  

With both of those factors weighing over her, she did her best to spread her social reach during college, and she is glad for it since it left her with friendships that have stayed with her to this day. 

“Athena, hi!” She greets with a smile of her own, going as far as giving her a quick side hug as she begins going over her notes with interest. “Not for long, I promise. I texted you earlier to let you know I was going to be late, and I was. I just got here like fifteen minutes ago.”

It is sort of funny, how someone able to manipulate time has a tendency to be late to social events. She always jokes she runs in Latine time, but her sister tends to be timely so it is entirely a “her” thing. 

A localized time stop. Precise enough to focus on a single target.

Antwan’s inhale settles into his chest, the readiness in his muscles smoothing out into something softer. He doesn’t sit up all the way, but he adjusts his posture to get a better observation angle. He’s not the biggest fan of time-based permutations -- especially iterations like this. The mugger has no idea he’s been frozen. There’s no time to flinch. No chance to react. He’s suspended mid‑intention, completely unaware he’s already lost.

Antwan’s mind furious works through two sets of possibilities. He wants to understand the scope and precision of the frozen pocket on display. Whoever deployed this stop is skilled -- and more importantly, subtle. He’s also mentally flipping through the possibilities, discarding each one as he identifies known stewards. He doesn’t know who to expect but recognition comes in pieces when he sees the masked woman moving to the mugger.

Outis.

He remembers hearing it on the news earlier in the month -- someone involved in the New Flushing Subway Blitz. He hadn’t followed the story closely due to focusing on finalizing the transition details between Valerian branches, but he’d skimmed the reports because he knew he’d be moving back to New Everwick and needed to keep up with steward chatter.

He watches her work. She’s frozen the man cleanly, isolating him from the rest of the train car. She moves through the pocket of time with practiced efficiency, pulling the man’s arms back, cuffing him, tying each finger individually with rope. Smart. She’s careful not to unfreeze him until the restraints are secure.

“Thanks,” he says, returning the nod before letting his fingers relax against the strap of his bag. The couple with the shared headphones is staring. The threat is neutralized. The situation is contained. He doesn’t have to intervene, and he doesn’t want to.

Time resumes. The mugger gives a startled jolt. Outis doesn’t flinch.

Antwan shifts his weight, settling back into the seat. He doesn’t close his eyes, but he lets his posture return to something that looks like rest. He’s not needed here. He’s just another passenger who almost got pickpocketed. He stays still, lowering his head again to let the brim of his hat shadow his eyes as he continues to monitor the scene.

He thinks about how BYOH must have gotten the assignment -- odd considering the fallout from the Blitz. Transit authorities get desperate and reach out to whoever can solve the problem.

There must be disconnect between public opinion and real-world consequences, he realizes.

BYOH stewards.

Another variable he’ll have to account for once he moves back.

He exhales, getting comfortable in the seat as he watches how she handles the suspect.

Sliding her right foot backward, and her left foot a bit further to the left, Outis braces herself — hip leaning against one of the subway car’s poles as she does so for further balance — and huffs just as the pick pocketer tries to throw his weight to one side to free himself of her grip. The shift in posture keeps her steady, and the steadiness of the metal behind her standing, as her prey stumbles over nothing— well, nothing to his and the public's eye, but she knows better since she created a time bubble by his right feet meant to destabilize him when she noticed his attempt— . As he stumbles, Mercedes sighs once more, this time more audibly, followed by a click of annoyance as she sees him try to shift again.

Better leave sooner than later it seems. 

Glancing at the possible victim, she reaches in one of the pockets she sew into her utility belt and takes out a business card. All it has is her steward name and her burner phone’s number, but it is for people to contact her after the fact if they remember new details while she is investigating something. 

Leaning to the side, she offers the card on his field of vision. 

“I am in a bit of a hurry, but if you could text me your statement of the event, it would be helpful towards the transit authority building a case,” she says kindly, absently pulling the cuffs back and preventing the pick pocketer from throwing himself forward. Again. Rather than wait for a response, she tucks it between the straps of his bag and turns fully towards the permuter. After a second of debate, she shrugs and leans her torso forward, swiftly pulling him up into a fireman’s carry before taking a solid hold of his legs so as to not be kicked in the face. 

Hikaru stands abruptly, typing quickly. 

[ 9:16 AM ] i see… [ 9:16 AM ] i’m glad he’s doing better  [ 9:17 AM ] yes, please. i don’t think i’ll be able to visit him at the hospital. if you could pass along a letter, i’d be grateful

He ignores the second half of Outis’ messages for some time. Just a few minutes while he gets his bearings. Hikaru looks over his empty fridge (why did he open it? He knows there’s nothing to grab and eat), then checks the creaky cabinets until he pulls out a jar of peanut butter and a much smaller one of strawberry jam. 

He can trust Outis, right? 

He puts everything on the counter beside the sink: napkin, two white pieces of bread, butter knife, the half-empty jars. 

Of course he can trust her. She has a secret identity too. She wouldn’t be asking him about his rank status if she hadn’t been somewhat suspicious already. And she’s Outis, for goodness sake! There’s no way she’d inform the F.B.A.I about him. 

Right?

Hikaru, standing somewhat dumbly in front of his unprepared breakfast, quickly grabs his phone a second time. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s that he doesn’t trust this. The texting—the devices. Of course he trusts her. Of course he does. 

He has to. 

With that in mind, she steps away from her phone and begins going through the motions of making herself some coffee. She doesn’t begrudge fuli for being spooked, but she will have to hunt him down sometime during the week to touch base once more. It is very pressing that he changes his appearance, if he wants to remain unranked. 

When she hears the telltale chime of a text, she looks back at her phone and blinks twice in mild surprise. Crossing the room, she picks it up and reads the message, a small smile on her lips as she realizes that he is willing to trust her. Well, in that case, might as well return the sentiment. 

[ 9:32:27 AM ] sure! Name the time and place, and I will meet you there [ 9:33:17 AM ] You might not recognize me at first, though, I won’t be wearing my usual get up

Between them, a quiet distance has always existed, marked by an invisible line that neither of them dared to cross. Outside these four walls, they lingered on the opposite side of it as every step was a quiet deliberation. As their longing was carried instead in stolen glances and smiles that had faded too quickly. There were the rigid rules of the world, the world that his father had crafted for him, like a blueprint drawn long before he was old enough to choose his own path  Silver Meridian’s life was already built up by expectation, obligation and carefully measured steps, long before his own father even acknowledged his name. Still, this was the path that Cassius walked, knowing where to stand and how to stand, until…until she came long and made him wonder what it would feel like to move freely. 

Ironic, really, considering the freedom that his power does offer. 

Still, that wonderment came with acts of rebellion. Nothing too outlandish, of course, for he was a gentleman still bound by the oaths he made in his father’s image. That was in the outside world at least, but here, right in these stolen moments with Sarah, he could simply just be. Cassius wasn't ready just ready to break all the rules. He was not made for that. But with Sarah, all the limits, obligations and masks could be ridden, left in the outside world as she revealed a side of him that he had long forgotten.

A man who was allowed to faulted. His polished image could be unkempt for a few moments. His tense shoulders, could relax and in moments Cassius knew that he could come undone. Not all the way, but just enough to be somewhat honest in this new encroaching territory.  

And it was in the moments like this that he could have sworn that Sarah had stolen his permutation as she teleported him to a world that felt safe and unburnderend. A world, where only the two of them exist. And he drank her in like her had been waiting his entire life to breath.

As her forehead rests against his and his breath is hitched somewhere between a sign and a pray. For a moment, his eyes slip shut and he doesn't want to open them again in fear that this would all have been a dream and the world would be so cruel to steal it away from him. Cassius wants to stay in this moment as long as possibly was allowed, not wanting the moment to be taken away from him. And he could have sworn that their lips hovered closely, hardly touching. Oh how they were tempting fate, crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed.

But then the sound tears them asunder.

The warmth between them vanishes only to be replaced by instict.

How noble it was for her to step forward, to put herself between him and the danger without hesitation. But his instincts move faster. A flash of silver cuts through the room, as he moves before her, his arm extending protectively across her. His eyes sweep the space, sharp in search for any signs of an intruder.

The panic seeps in. Had someone been watching them? Had they followed him? He knew the enemies he had made along way. He knew the damagae that could be done. And the thought of what they could bring to Sarah's doorstep makes his chest tighten.

He could handle being a target.

But her? No. He couldn't handle her becoming one.

It’s a thought that shocks her through the worry and adrenaline, that slows everything down. 

She cares about Silver Meridian, more than she can put into words. More than what she will allow herself to say out loud. She is not good enough for those words to be received gladly, she knows. Just a silly little sidekick of Valerian’s. The world within her apartment isn’t all there is, there is another world entirely beyond her four walls, and in that world? In that world what they have cannot be real, not yet. Not until Valerian believes in her, not until they believe she won’t bring Cassius down for existing. 

Reality settles, and her chest tightens as it does, eyes falling away from his figure as for a moment it is too painful to look at him knowing the reality of it all. Instead, she looks around, trying to identify the source of the noise, to make sure the danger is not a threat they cannot handle. 

In the end, that momentary flinch serves her well, though, as her eyes fall on her screen and stay there for a long second. Looks like Wile E. Coyote had tried to shoot the roadrunner— Oh. 

A loud snort leaves her lips and all the tension leaves her frame. Gesturing towards the TV, she smiles fondly, reaching forward to wrap her hand around the wrist stuck in front of her protectively and pulling it down slowly. 

“I am fine, don’t worry,” she says, amusement growing as she realizes how silly the situation is. “I think we were so—,” she coughs, cheeks heating as her eyes flicker away from Sil’s once more before returning as she tries to keep her composure. “Distracted, that we forgot the TV was on,” she says, pointing towards it with her chin. 

It says something of how deeply the two of them had been wrapped on each other that they hadn’t noticed the new show begin. Something important, but that she cannot point out just yet. Not right after the chilling realization that every day that passes the world begins to press more against the walls of their little refuse. Sooner rather than later, she thinks the visits will stop. Life will pick up, and of all the things Silver Meridian has in her schedule, she is likely the easiest to cut out right now. In order to avoid that, in order to make sure he stays by her side without regret, she needs to get better.

If only she knew how to balance both sides of the coin so that she is just enough of a fool to ensure her permutation is used to its full extent, while also making sure people can take her more seriously than they do now. It’s quite the balancing act, she knows, and the sort that will remain increasingly difficult for as long as Valerian doesn’t let her discard the image they had painted for her. But before she can do that, she has to show them that letting her go beyond her limits will be profitable. 

With corporations like Valerian, money talks. And unfortunately, she does make quite the hefty buck as Slapstick. 

“Damn, your trolls have never done a job that requires a lot of physical activity and it shows, huh,” she comments pointedly once the trolls begin to make themselves heard, eyes moving away from Keegan so that she can send the phone’s camera a pointed look. “I guess not everyone can be a socknnoisseur.”

Her tone is solemn, but allows for enough levity for her own fans to regain control of the chat back, working to wrap up the sentiment into a nice little bow as she focuses on helping Atlas wrap the stream with a nice tidy bow for Valerian to approve. 

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” she says with a nod of mock seriousness. “My earrings are all over the top of my cabinet and I need more of those small little bags to make sure I don’t lose one of the two parts of each pair. Which honestly, is much easier said than done, considering how small they are.”

And how messy her apartment can get every once in a while, she thinks but doesn’t quite say it out loud. 

“Want one of mine? I got a couple of duplicates and I think it would be cute if we match,” she offers with a grin as she bumps her shoulder against his playfully. As Atlas asks a question, she eyes the chat and nods slightly to herself once she sees how it is slowly but surely winding down. A couple minutes of more banter should be enough before they can wrap up, and maybe go get a coffee or something.

Keegan laughs as Sarah effortlessly brightens the space again, her energy turning the moment warm and easy. He compliments her earrings—half teasing, half genuinely curious about whether her permutation can nudge the world the way it seems to nudge the mood. It must, right?

He accepts one of her extra merch pieces with a grin, brushing off her praise about his physique. Nothing superpowered there — just him staying athletic enough to reach people who need him reliably.

Their conversation drifts into talks about colors, tiny preferences, and the soft, trivial details that somehow matter. In the end, it’s the simple exchange itself — the shared air away from the bustle of their talent agency and marketing quotas, the comfortable laughter of inside jokes and lived-in experiences of being a C-rank — that makes everything feel richer, reminding Keegan that the right company can turn even small talk into something quietly meaningful.