#bvlwarks

He reminded her of someone ... in fleeting ways; through distorted reflections. The physicality struck as familiar, but there was more. There was a quality about him, something intangible, that made her stop as she passed him by --

❝ Hold a moment, friend, I - ❞ Stopped in her gait completely. An arm held out, as if to - ? Call him closer? Hold onto him? Give him leave to hold onto her? - as if to steady herself from the gust of embarrassment that flowed through her once she got a proper look at him.

                     it  was  the  type  of  cold  that  ate  straight  to  the  bone.  breath  made  thick,  grey  clouds  in  the  air  and  if  one  looked  close  enough,  they  could  see  tiny  fractals  of  ice  that  had  hardened  at  the  ends  of  his  jaw  length  brown  hair.  there  was  a  dazed--  almost  distant  look  in  his  dark  blues,  some  part  of  him  was  very  far  away.  they'd  said  it  would  take  a  long  time  for  the  effects  of  the  damage  done  to  his  brain  to  even  begin  to  fade.  he'd  set  out  on  just  a  walk--  he  didn't  remember  how  many  hours  ago,  but  the  sun  had  still  been  up,  and  now  the  sky  was  empty---  the  waxing  moon  bled  into  the  blackness  and  caught  in  the  midnight  of  his  eyes. 

"i'll go with you. strength in numbers, right?"

She  is  quiet  for  a  moment.  This  felt  off,  different  even.  Being  Blonde  Blazer  had  come  to  her  so  naturally  like  it  had  been  what  she  was  born  to  do.  When  she  had  passed  on  the  amulet  to  Chase,  did  what  needed  to  be  done  it  felt  right  too. 

That  being  said,  coming  back  to  SDN  as  Mandy  knowing  that  not  only  Z-Team  had  to  keep  her  secret  but  she  had  to  be  whoever  Mandy  was  there  was  a  lot  of  weight  on  her  shoulders.  If  she  was  honest  with  herself,  or  present  company  she  was  not  always  completely  clear  on  who  Mandy  was.  She  had  a  few  weeks  off  after  her  meeting  with  HR  and  today  was  day  one. 

Robert,  the  saint  he  was  had  gone  to  breakfast  with  her  before  shift  start.  To  be  honest  she  did  in  fact  feel  like  puking  anxiety  also  apparently  came  back  when  the  amulet  left  her.  Also  a  drink  or  two  the  night  before  did  not  help,  who  knew  right?

It  felt,  different  to  walk  into  this  place  as  a  dispatcher.  Something  she  had  helped  so  many  people  transition  into  and  now  seen  how  useless  her  words  really  were.  A  small  chuckle  at  her  words  before  raising  her  hands.

❝You  read  me  like  a  book  already  huh?  I  don't  wanna  do  that  to  you.  You  deserve  an  actual  break.❞

Warmth  in  her  smile,  despite  the  lingering  anxiety  in  her  eyes.  There  was  something  to  be  said  about  his  constant  desire  to  want  to  help  others.  Perhaps  that  is  why  she  got  along  with  him  so  well  to  start  with.  It  had  been  nearly  engraved  in  her  DNA  from  the  start  too.  And  that  is  what  made  them  both  so  good  at  their  jobs. 

❝Maybe  you  meet  me  for  lunch  instead?  I  think  coming  in  with  you  will  make  me  an  easy  target  already.❞

There  is  laughter  but,  with  Z-Team  no  longer  being  the  literal  Z-Team  for  the  phoenix  program,  it  was  time  her  hands  got  dirty.  He  had  been  tossed  in  mostly  alone  and  now  it  was  her  turn.  It  was  only  fair  she  played  by  the  same  rules  he  had  to.  Plus,  to  add  more  onto  his  plate  after  everything  just  felt  cruel.

Sender: @bvlwarks !! Prompt: "stay awake, you might have a concussion."

@bvlwarks asked: ❛ So… do we pretend we don’t know each other, or do we pretend we do? ❜

BRUISES of varying shades and scars, new and old, crisscross his back as he turns from her. The metallic clink of his belt stirs her from her staring; Mandy shifts, taking steps away from Robert to give him some privacy, to avoid watching him undress. Heat spreads along her cheeks as she quietly chastises herself for being so unprofessional.

However, as blue eyes lift, she glimpses his partially nude form reflected in the frosted glass of the double doors. Crap. She's just about to offer to exit the room, when his next question quickly stops her.

Any prior tension filling the room dissipates as she can't help the small smile that uplifts her lips. Mien softening at his consideration, she shakes her head–aware he can't see her, but habit–and responds, tone light, "I don't see a problem with it. But if you don't want to call attention to yourself, I totally understand." Absently, she tucks a stray, golden strand behind her ear as she regards her boots. "I don't want to put you in an unnecessary predicament... Though, wouldn't it be a little weird if I didn't know who you were since I scouted you out?" God. She's rambling now.

Biting her lip to prevent herself from speaking further, sapphire hues lift to peek at his mirrored image. Was he done changing? Thankfully a shirt and pants hid his leanly muscled frame.

A breath whooshes through the part of her lips as she turns back to him. "Suffice to say, the decision is yours. You ready for the tour?"

rain   slicks   the   pavement,   neon   breaking   across   it   in   thin,   fractured   ribbons   as   she   nearly   collides   with   him   at   the   corner   —   close   enough   to   hear   servos   whine   beneath   plating,   close   enough   that   most   civilians   would’ve   flinched.   she   doesn’t.   umbrella   pauses   mid-swing,   coat   hem   tugged   by   a   passing   gust   she   pretends   not   to   notice.   a   slow   look   follows,   up…   then   back   down   again,   mouth   quirking   with   dry   consideration.  

she was slowly packing up her office, placing files neatly in a few piles on her desk -- one for finished, one for 'still working on it', one for 'haven't even gotten there yet'. so much work and not enough hours in the day... unless she stayed longer. would anyone even know? it wouldn't be the first time she stayed at the office until an embarrassingly late hour. lost in this thought, almost placing her backpack down on the floor and that's when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway. eyes lifted as she blinked herself out of her thoughtful stupor, one brow lifting curiously.

"strategizing? cork board? are you a detective from the 1940's?" she couldn't help the tease -- it was just so easy! a smile, a shake of her head followed by a light shrug. "i WAS going to stay and work on updating some profiles..." a murmur there, the woman torn between wants and needs. ah, fuck it.

"okay, i'll bite." because maybe she should stop being such a workaholic for two seconds and because maybe she SHOULD be a little spontaneous. how thrilling (but she's thinking that with a very sarcastic tone because... seriously? she's a super hero and THIS is the most thrilling thing she can do?)...

"i think we might have a corkboard in one of the supply rooms... and different colored pins! oh, we could coordinate ideas by color and create an organized log..." oh no. stop her. please, robert. she paused, realizing just how embarrassingly enthusiastic she was already getting.

❝ Robert. ❞

This custom seemed steeped in self-interest. She'd known souls who roamed the lands when Mistletoe was forged into a Godkilling weapon, and those who'd fallen to its saccharine, suffering splendor in turn. Never once flowing from either set of realities, had she considered offering ... physical affection 'neath one.

Yet, as her options appeared before her in this particular world? The Witch knew her fate could be tied to few better than him in this moment.

She would have to crouch rather low to keep to hallowed tradition, so instead, the witch sees fit to treat father like son. Titan's grip finds purchase around battlescarred waist, and with no more than a chuckle does the wild one hoist her friend and ally to just beneath the hanging mistle.

Aligned with her smile, such that his gaze would flow directly into her own, joyous, delighted, and only a touch apologetic for the brief, but faintly divine affection she bestowed upon him. As was customary.