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“Absolutely. You wanna try?”

He knew it was coming. This day had never snuck up on him. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Anver was hyper aware of its approach, he carried the scar from it both literally and figuratively. That explained why exactly it was that he struggled with it, a reminder of what he had lost, of the piece of himself that had died with her.

A sigh was evident, heavier than usual, almost exhausted as he pushed his way into the house through the backdoor. It swung noisily on the hinge, that snapping sound coming along with the screen as he’d finally stepped clear of it. He wasn’t looking for her, he wasn’t looking for either of them. Actually, he hoped he’d be able to sneak by and duck into the downstairs shower without being noticed.

That was, until he’d stepped into the hall to all but run into her.

@stctic-shock

The house had been in an off sort of mood for the last few days and Wattson was waiting for it to all come crashing down. There was a part of her that was expecting to be sent back to housing, which was a selfish thought, she knew. But it was a learned behavior and it had kept her on edge. Her skin tingled, the currents of electricity running over the surface more now than it had in a long time. None of it made the situation any better.  

Nico made sure to keep herself busy though, the laundry she obsessively folded, and then secretly tucked away in the duffle bag that was stashed under one of the beds in one of the barely used rooms had been enough to keep her emotions dull. Bare feet quickly cut through the hall, hurrying faster when she heard the swing of the door. As much as Anver, she wanted to avoid them both.

And neither one of them were granted that little wish, not as they nearly came colliding into one another. There was a snap that sounded around them, almost loud enough to drown out the curse that slipped past her lips. She made sure to step back, to keep that snap from reaching him. 

@stctic-shock

       Leaning back on the sofa, Vic looks over at Wattson. He watches her for a few seconds as he weighs his options. Saying nothing would only keep all of them in the same rut. Clearing his throat, he reaches out and pokes her shoulder. “Yo, we gotta do something for the big guy. You know he hasn’t been acting right and I don’t like it. Maybe he’s gotta go through his shit, but considering he’s taking care of us, maybe we could return the favor.” He watches her hopeful, not sure either of them are build for this. But they could try – for Anver. “What do you think, Watt?” 

godhowls‌:

“Someone seems to feeling better, must have been that serenade that did it.”  He was pushing buttons for the sake of pushing them, nothing less or nothing more. There wasn’t much else to do now that the storm had passed, and things could return to normal. The problem was that this, that them, that was what was normal now. There was a grin crawling onto his features, trying to bite back the invitation to laugh at the commentary. Of course, the hotel California bit probably did nothing but make all parties involved laugh. That was the purpose, and it just gave the three of them one more thing, one more little inside joke to add to the collective.

@stctic-shock @amunreyes

        “I gotta say, big man, that we kinda killed it on that duet. Who wouldn’t feel better after our rendition of the classic? Maybe we need to start a cover band. I’ll be the looks and charm and voice and you play the six strings. Classy all the way.” Vic can’t help himself. No matter the time or place when it came to Anver and Wattson. Powers back meant that things were okay again. Or at least Wattson wasn’t sure the end times arrived. Maybe they had, but they could hold out a little longer. Not something he was going to say out loud. “What you think? We got a career here, Watt? You manage us and be the muscle. No one would mess with us.” He looks between the two of them, eyebrows wiggling.

@stctic-shock​

“If given the opportunity to do it all over again, I respectfully request to be removed from your email chain and conversation.” Yet, those words were said with the widest of grins as she looked at both of them. With her attention bouncing between the two, there was a slight touch of disbelief in the conversation, but giving Vic a little shrug, she laughed. “I’d be the worst fucking manager in the history of ever. So, if you want to sign that contract, then by all means.” Clearly, she didn’t do well under stress, and probably pressure. Unless, you know, it was more a life or death kind of situation. 

“Quit doing that with your face. Anver, tell him to stop wiggling his eyebrows at me.” Looking to the other, she was half mumbling at this point. “I hate that.”

He knew that it wasn’t funny, not to her at least, but that didn’t keep the grin off his face. At least he’d had the decency to turn away from her though, to hide it in the dim light of the bathroom.

“I know, trust me I know. You told us more times than I can count, but as I said then. I’ll die long before anything happens to the two of you little assholes.”

She made a face at him, brows knotting the moment he turned away from her. It was easier to laugh about it now, but mostly because she felt normal. And normal Wattson didn’t deal with emotions too well. There was still a very real, lingering sense of fear at losing what she was.

      “You’re not useless. Quit that. You had a minor freakout about losing your powers. No one here is judging you.” Slinking towards her, he sits next to her with a shake of his head. “Gonna help with the headache. But for the record, I didn’t drug you. All we had were those joints. With your knowledge.” The apology is enough to bring a smile to his lips as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not being smug. I don’t want you thinking I’m causing you pain without your consent.” He kisses the top of her head with a laugh. “You okay though? Because I can go get you some other shit. Chocolate? You want some chocolate?” 

“I’m judging me, but thanks.” She watched him for a moment, her knees pulling up toward her chest as he took his seat beside her. There was a small smirk as he spoke, the tugging at the corner of her lips. Vic was an interesting change in personality. She had been so used to the brash and brazen, and while she knew Vic wouldn’t lie to her, his approach was... softer than she was accustomed to. She had to remind herself to not be so abrasive herself. Leaning into him, she let the smirk take its shape as she felt his lips against the top of her head. “I’m okay, just feel like shit a bit.” At the mention of chocolate, she perked up, straightening to look at him. “Is it viscous chocolate? Living?”

        He looks at Nico and then the bottle in her hand. His eyebrow shoots up. “Am I laughing? I never once thought you were a joke. Not with Anver lumbering around.” Vic snaps the bottle from her fingers and looks at it. “Where the fuck did you get this? Did you rob the pharmacy?” Rooting around his bag, he pulls out a few Tylenol. “Take these. I will also take an apology for being called a dick.”

godhowls‌:

He had been compelled to collect not one, but both of them when he’d realized what was happening. It wasn’t like either had been his responsibility, not yet, but that changed nothing. He still felt the need, the want, and most importantly - the urge to make sure both were protected through this. It was instinctual, primal almost, and it caused a fear to take hold of him until both eyes could settle on the pair.

After that, he wasn’t exactly well prepared to calm either party. Instead, he watched. Anver allowed the two of them to dictate how this was going to go. Broad shoulders were propped against the wall, giving both equal attention.

“How are you feeling?” He asked the question knowing the answer, but also knowing that sometimes the screaming, yelling, or even just the bite of sarcasm could relieve a little tension. Well, it was either that or propose a quick threesome, which under the circumstances wasn’t probably the best idea.

@stctic-shock @amunreyes

      The loss of power put Vic on edge. Enough that he didn’t fight it when Anver picked him up. Him and Wattson. An interesting development and one he’d pick apart more a little later. But he trusts Wattson and Anver was an enigma on his own. He wasn’t going to argue the shelter and company. Being alone felt reckless. Felt like he might actually come out of his skin. Maybe they could all understand each other a little better without the powers coming between them.

      Sitting on the couch, he clears his throat and rolls his shoulder. His eyes haven’t stopped scanning the inside of Anver’s home. It was far better than communal housing. Not that he was going to comment on that. Not yet. Compliments were earned and one kind gesture wasn’t enough. 

      His eyes return to Wattson. A part of him wants to take her hand and thread their fingers together. He wishes he could push calm into her, but he knows better. So, he clears his throat and shrugs. “Fucking weird, man. I don’t think I like it. Don’t think I hate it. Clears my head a little, but…” He stops to shake his head. “When all you know is the sun or whatever the fuck, then it’s gone.” He snaps his fingers. “What about you? Holding up okay?” His eyes go to Wattson. “What can we do for you?”

@stctic-shock​

It was a grace she wouldn’t question. There was a weight to the company, but one that kept her feet on the ground - and her from flying off the handle. She’d already been in one altercation on the street. Apparently, screaming in someone’s face for answers wasn’t the way to go about all of this.

Go figure.

On the couch, she laid upside down, her legs draped over the back of it, her head just barely hanging off the cushion. It put a pressure on her brain that was familiar. there was a tingle in the tips of her fingers from the pooling blood. “Well,” she said, those hands coming up to run through her own hair, before stretching out in a rather dramatic gesture, “I feel like shit.”

Rolling, she adjusted herself, pulled herself to sit normally, before she slid from the couch all together. Looking from Vic, up to Anver, she gave a small shrug. “If I die like this, you gotta do that creepy thing and burn my body.” Fire wasn’t how she was supposed to go, but it was better than rotting in the ground.

There were plenty of secrets when it came to the Thunderbird, but at least she was somewhat a part of his people. They had outcast-ed the pair of them all the same, although his penance might have been a little more harsh a sentence. Either way, even in the pieces of herself she’d let him see, he knew how this would ruin her. This explained why he’d shown up, eventually interrupting her pacing and thinking out loud to point to a seat.

“Sit, shock collar. We’re going to drink until you stop trying to make sense of this, and then we’re gonna have a talk that we’ll both pretend never happened.”

@stctic-shock

His sudden appearance brought a little noise out of her. But more because she wasn’t sure if his appearance was sudden, or if she just hadn’t noticed him. Blinking, she looked from him, to the chair he pointed at, before looking back to him. Two big steps were taken, cutting across some of the distance between them so she could wave her fingers in front of his face.

@stctic-shock

         Jinx knows as soon as she steps out of their home, that something wasn’t right. The string of text messages from Wattson worry her. Worry her enough that she’s tugging her bag across her body and practically running towards the town. No powers was one thing. It was a disconnect from everything everyone in town knew. But to see her friend act differently… her feet dragged on. Her pace quickens as she nears the center of town. It was the most logical place to look. She doubted Wattson would hole up in her place. Not yet anyway.

      Searching through the crowd that has seemed to gather, she taps on the shoulder of every blonde she can find. Coming up empty, she huffs. Stamping her feet now would make no different. “Wattson, you surly piece of shit, where are you?” She says it loud enough that a few people turn towards her. She gives them a glare. “Are you named Wattson? Turn back around. Stupid fucking idiots.” 

      Pushing through the crowd, she finds Nico with a sigh of relief. “Hey, what’s up? Minus the no power shit. You doing okay? Your texts were weird. I had to come and find you.” 

With as long as she managed to keep her calm, she almost wanted to demand some sort of recognition. Maybe it was the panic around her, the fear the other people were so violently throwing about, that helped her not fall victim to the same sort of episode. But god damn, did she want to.

She wanted to stomp her feet. To scream. To pray - sacrifice a goat. Whatever it took to get her powers back. There was very much a black hole sitting in the middle of her chest that was all too much for her. An emptiness she never wanted to feel again. 

It was her name that she heard first, but with no immediate face to put it to, she chalked it up to being crazy. But, when Jinx appeared, there was an overwhelming sense of relief in her face alone. There was a smirk that quickly faded. “No. No I’m not okay.” Despite the strain in her tone, she was trying to keep her voice down. “I’m so far from okay right now.” Jinx had her own safety in her sponsor and Nico - well. She didn’t have that, and having burnt too many bridges in her time here, there were few places she could turn.