#and I was so aghast at the concept that the commenter would reply with that. that I woke myself up

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t know if I’m terminally online (I haven’t gotten out much all winter tbh) or if I just get stressed about online “debates”, but whoever said that “phones never appear in our dreams” is wrong. I woke up twice thinking someone replied to a comment I made yesterday with something weird, only to realize that I had not actually grabbed my phone off my nightstand, checked it, and then fallen asleep again

[mimssides]

Life on Crow Avenue: Part 4

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___

A few people started clapping as the little band played their last note, Roman being one of them. Not for a second he had looked away from the musicians and now felt his neck being a little stiff from looking into the same direction for such a long time. With a huff he tilted his head and heard it crack, causing Remus to cackle at him.

“Mock me all you want! This was fantastic,” Roman pouted and blinked confused as he saw the mocktail in front of him.

“Curtesy of the emo nerd over there,” Remus said and pointed over to Virgil who just nodded.

Reflexively, Roman smiled at the younger man and tipped his imaginary hat as he took a sip of his drink.

“Why thank you! I’ll make sure to pay our drinks back at the end of the evening.”

“Sure thing, flower boy,” Virgil replied and fumbled with the beer glass in his hand.

Roman grinned and the asked curiously: “Am I right to assume that you work in Zookeeper, since Janus is your uncle?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Virgil said sheepishly and looked to the side, “actually I’m kinda the owner? Uncle J’s helping me with it but the shop officially belongs to me.”

Roman raised his eyebrows in surprise but quickly played it off with a polite smile and kicked Remus in the shin, as he sensed him being on the edge to be saying something stupid. To his luck that was enough to keep Remus from talking and he got to continue his little interrogation of his crush’s nephew.

“That’s admirable of you, Virgil. I know how hard it is to start a business at young age. I would never have dreamt of doing it without Rem here,” Roman explained and casually set his elbows down on the table. “How did you come up with the idea, if I may ask? It’s not only a pet shop but also a rescue, if I recall correctly?”

Virgil looked up from his glass and Patton and Logan exchanged a look. Roman was a surprisingly smooth talker unlike his brother. Getting Virgil to not look positively freaked out while talking to strangers was quite a feat.

“Yeah,” Virgil said keeping his eyes steady and smiling a little at Roman, “we also take in hurt and lost animals. If possible, we get them back to their owners or search for new homes. If that’s not possible, I have some contacts with some people who own a ranch where I can bring the ones we cannot keep or find a home for. I had the idea, when I volunteered in an animal shelter for a year after high school. The family then helped me get everything sorted out and we ended up here. Yeah, and that’s that.”

“Woohoo! We’re not the only ones here without a degree!” Remus cheered and Roman rolled his eyes.

“Excuse him. He has no concept of decency and tact.”

“No, I haven’t!” Remus said happily and lifted his glass to toast himself.

Virgil actually snickered at Remus’s ridiculously proud face and shook his head, as Logan just fascinatedly stared at Remus and Patton chuckled a little. Roman’s attempt of looking annoyed was fruitless and he just pinched the bridge of his nose to at least hide part of his smile. Just then he heard steps accompanied by the sound of a stick clacking on the floor.

Even before Roman could look to his side, his suspicion was confirmed by Patton saying cheerfully: “It was a great session again Jan! You never disappoint!”

Roman turned and saw “Jay” standing next to him by the table supporting himself on his cane and meeting his gaze gracefully with a smile. He had thrown his black suit jacket over his right shoulder and Roman could not but admire the whole attire.

Janus then said to Patton without looking away from Roman: “I see you took the freedom to invite a few people to our jazz night, hm?”

As he ended, he glanced over to Patton, who grinned and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I know. I know it’s your birthday and we usually keep these little parties to ourselves but I just wanted them to feel welcome and-”

“Don’t bother,” Janus cut Patton of as he looked back down at Roman with an almost fond grin, “I’m not complaining about this one.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil moaned as Roman stood up with a smirk.

Graciously, Roman circled around Janus, who followed his movements closely, and pulled out the unoccupied chair next to the man. As he did so Roman asked: “Your birthday? You did not mention a word! Nor that you’ve been to our store opening. I would have improvised a gift had I known I’d see you again so soon.”

With a smile Janus took the seat, not so accidently brushing against Roman’s shoulder as he did so, and said smugly: “Your 31st birthday isn’t exactly what you’d bring up in conversation, I figured. Also, I sadly only made an acquaintance with your brother that day and merely got a look of you in your work clothes. Like this-” he tapped Roman on the chest – “you look much different, I have to admit.”

“A good different I hope?”

Roman sat back down and put his chin onto his left hand batting his eyes at Janus.

“Oh, I’m quite pleased with what I see here.”

“Oh. My. GOD. Uncle J I’m leaving if you continue like this!” Virgil growled.

Janus winked at Roman before he turned to his nephew and ruffled his hair. Virgil made a displeased noise but Janus only chuckled and pulled his hand back.

“Come on kid. It’s my birthday! Don’t you want your dear old uncle to by happy?” Janus asked sarcastically with a grin.

Virgil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You’re not even eight years older than me, so stop acting as if you were so high and mighty,” Virgil said while ducking away from Janus’s hand, who had tried to ruffle his hair anew.

Janus chuckled and left Virgil be. He liked to annoy his boy a little but he was not about to overdo it right now. It was just nice enough seeing him outside the store once in a while sitting with people that weren’t him or other people from the family.

“How exactly did that age gap happen? Do you have a much older sibling or how did that come to be?” Remus asked for the first time addressing Janus this evening.

Janus turned and looked over to the man. He had not seen or heard too much of him but something about the tone rubbed him the wrong way and he noticed Logan giving Remus a funny look after he had spoken. Apparently, the behaviour he just displayed contradicted with how Logan had seen him act like the rest of the evening. This could prove to become quite interesting.

“Actually,” Janus said and folded his hands calmly on the table, “I have nine older siblings. I’m the youngest of ten and Virgy here is my eldest sister’s son. That’s how I became uncle at the tender age of seven a half or so. Not that that is any of your business.”

Remus eyed him for a moment before he huffed and took a drink from his beer. Janus waited for more to come and as nothing did, he raised his eyebrows and clacked his tongue to what Remus again looked at him.

“Nothing else you want to know? Maybe my life story with some little re-enactments? Because I do so love being interrogated by strangers on my birthday.”

To Janus’s surprise Remus snorted at the comment and replied: “Don’t worry, champ, I don’t care shit ‘bout you. Just want to make sure my brother isn’t barking at a tree which’s rotten from the inside. ‘Cause we don’t need that drama. But if you want, I can get you a drink as a birthday present, drama queen.”

Before Janus could say a thing, Remus had stood up on the bench and jumped over his brother’s lap to get over to the bar and order him a drink. Roman just sighed and massaged his temple while Janus turned to look after Remus with an appalled frown.

For a moment they all went silent until Logan cleared his throat and they looked over to him. Logan locked eyes with Janus and then pulled something out from under the table. He sat a purse next to his glass and pulled out a gift wrapped in black decorated with a yellow bow.

“As birthday presents were mentioned; here you go-” Logan said and pushed the gift over the table towards Janus – “I hope you find it adequate.”

A little surprised, but not so much since Logan had made it a habit to gift them all something at their birthdays, Janus took the package and held it in his hands for a moment before he thanked Logan. It was obviously a book the man had given him, his usual go to, but he had proven to have an excellent sense of what the other would find interesting, so Janus was sure this one would be no exception.

“Thank you, Logan! I’m sure you’ve chosen something very fitting for me,” Janus thanked him and set the book aside not wanting to open it here.

Logan told him that it was quite alright and a bit of the tension from before had eased away. And just then Remus returned and set a wine glass with white wine in front of Janus. A bit surprised by the sudden appearance of Remus to his side Janus flinched and then looked up to him. Remus smiled widely and sat back down, as Roman stood up to let him get back to his place in the booth.

Curiously, Janus looked down to the glass in front of him and was about say something, when Remus cut him off and said: “I asked for your beverage of choice. Thought, they might know what you like, since you seem to play here every Friday.”

Janus eyed Remus in confusion. What exactly was this man’s game? Was this a trick? Did he want to manipulate him? Why would he be nice after comparing him to a rotten tree?

“Don’t break your pretty little head over it, JJ,” Remus said amused and quirked his eyebrow up, “I’m not one to hold grudges and I tend to do what I say, exactly as I say it. This is not a trick, not a game I play, this is just me getting you a drink and congratulating you on your birthday with it, not me planning your demise.”

Offended Janus glared at him, which caused Virgil to laugh and Patton to supress a giggle. Aghast Janus turned to look at his nephew, who slapped him on the shoulder and leaned a little forward towards Remus direction.

“I changed my mind; I like you! You’re so socially inept that it’s almost charming again!” Virgil laughed and earned another offended gasp from his uncle for that statement.

“Happy to please, Emo Nightmare! By the way, I like the eyeshadow! You need to tell me where you buy that stuff. I haven’t gotten to look around for some good make-up in the aera since we moved here in May.”

For once, Virgil was happy to talk and Remus and he spent a good while gossiping about make-up with Patton at one point joining the conversation when they brushed the topic of hair dye. Logan meanwhile, mostly just listened to the three not minding the talk about trivial things like make-up so much as he would have on other days.

Janus took a sip from his wine and watched how Roman took his phone and typed something into it.

“Our company not interesting enough to keep you from the internet?” he asked coolly.

Roman looked up and shook his head saying: “No, no! I just wrote down your birthday in my calendar. So, I won’t miss it next year and can give you a proper gift.”

The smile and warmth which accompanied Roman’s words took Janus by surprise. He had met a lot of men over the years and he had been smitten by quite a few but none of them had ever said something so ridiculously optimistic like what Roman just said. It was the first day they knew each other and Roman already talked about getting him a present for his birthday next year. And it actually seemed to be a genuine offer.

“You are a strange man, Roman. Nothing like I’ve seen before.”

Roman let out a quick laugh and shook his head.

“I’m certain you’ve met men like me before. I’m not a kind of guy who’s hard to find. You probably just never cared enough to properly look into them. You could have found something quite beautiful. I’ll have to make an effort so you won’t miss out on me.”

For a second, the noise around Janus tuned out. For a second, he only saw Roman sitting there in front of him. There was weight and depth in his words but a lightness in his eyes he had not seen in many people their age in years.

And then Janus found himself laughing quietly and setting his elbow on the table and said with a grin: “I’ll have to keep looking into you, so I won’t miss out then.”

Both chuckled a little and the night kept going on for a little longer, being one of the most rememberable birthdays Janus ever had until that point.

___

@aprincehasgotoslay

@varthandi

@sickeningly-deceitful

@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@alexisrealgay

@softie-sushi

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

For this fic:

@frawkeye

@arodynamic-enby

@espepspes​

@ladysuperheros

@bullet-tothefeels

@fukindork

@shadeofadye

@magic-but-its-green

@liv-is-a-fander

@croftersjam15

[writingonjorvik]

The B Team Druids - Chapter 8 - A Lesser Hero

It took Carrie a while to get herself woken up. She’d only consciously done this once, and the process was still hazy for her. There was no magic words or actions or process that she could identify, there was just a feeling that washed over her and told she could wake up. Not exactly a lot to go on there.

While she was trying though, she watched the remaining individuals in the room sort out their actions. Elizabeth immediate began to take care of Bree, Saoirse set Carrie’s body down and called Raven, and Ari looked like she was struggling to keep calm. When Saoirse walked out to find Raven, Ari stepped up to make sure Carrie was alright.

Saoirse returned shortly with Raven in tow. The Star druid first set to waking Bree up, who came to looking even paler than before, but that also might just have been the drastic contrast between her and Raven. With Elizabeth and Raven’s help though, they got Bree turned away from Carrie to keep the flighty girl from fainting a second time and so Raven could check on Carrie.

When Carrie finally managed to pulled herself back into her body, she had five worried pairs of eyes watching her, Raven and Ari the most immediate around her.

Carrie gave a weak half wave. “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon yarself,” Saoirse said, taking a step closer. She sounded snarky, like she normally would, but her inflection had a hint of worry. “Ya gave us a bloody big scare dere.”

“Not my intention to randomly fall asleep,” Carrie answered, trying to grin.

“Are you narce- narca- na- narcoleptic?” Bree asked, looking off as she thought through the word. “I thought that was a really rare condition. Do you need medication? I can make something. Are you ok with herbal remedies? BecauseIknowsomepeoplehaveaproblemwithallnaturalandIdon’t--”

“Breade,” Saoirse stated, giving Bree a side eye. Bree practically swallowed her tongue as she drew back the rest of her question. She took a moment, her cheeks puffed out, before letting out a long drawn breath. As Bree was uncurling her tongue, Saoirse turned back to Carrie. “Do ya need anyding? Water? Tea? Food?”

Carrie shook her head, slowly pushing herself up on her arms. Ari rest a hand on Carrie’s shoulder. “Don’t rush. The blood will, like, rush back into your head and make it worse.”

The stare Raven gave Ari for that comment had no emotion in it, but Carrie thought it might be that Ari was wildly off the mark, and giving medical advice in front of a trained healer seemed a little silly. When Raven noticed Carrie was watching, the druid only nodded. “Rest. Drink. Breathe.” She turned, pointing to Saoirse. “Water and mint.”

There was something in Raven’s voice Carrie hadn’t noticed before. The strain in it, yes, but there was something like the sound of two coarse wires being dragged over each other as well. Something in her throat.

Elizabeth stopped Saoirse. “Let me.” She slipped through, walking towards a cabinet over in Carrie guessed was the house’s kitchen. The house was rather studio like now that Carrie thought about it, very open concept. She couldn’t see a stove from where she was, but it seemed a safe bet when Elizabeth came back with a pitcher of water with mint leaves floating in it and glasses, as well as a little bottle of painkillers.

“Slowly,” Elizabeth said, handing Carrie a cup. Carrie nodded her thanks, sipping on it. “Do you know what happened? Why you slipped out?”

Carrie looked over for a moment before Saoirse and Ari. They didn’t look at each other, but both of them seemed ready to accept whatever Carrie said. Carrie returned her attention to Elizabeth. “I’m not really sure, no. I guess, um, a high amount of magic around me seems like it can set it off. Is that normal?”

“That is difficult for me to say,” Elizabeth replied. “There’s nothing normal about these abilities. Dreamwalking, that’s what Jon Jarl called it. Orienmancy.”

“You can see people’s dreams?” Bree asked, her face lighting up. “Did you see mine?”

“Uh, no,” Carrie answered, shaking her head. When Bree started to look disappointed, Carrie added, “But I can’t really see into anyone’s. It’s more like a, uh, like a dream world. Like some kind of twilight zone.”

Saoirse turned to Elizabeth. “Dat sounds a lo’ like Pandoria.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Carrie, what color was this world?”

“Well, it was this one? Just kinda gold and peach,” Carrie said. She took a sip of the water before asking, “Are there other worlds?”

“We know of one other,” Elizabeth explained. “Pandoria, Garnok’s home reality. But that place looks nothing like this world. No, I believe this is something else, some kind of between.”

Before Carrie could really asked, Bree raised a hand. “It sounds like Carrie is going to a nicer Upsidedown, but Pandoria is more like a Narnia situation. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, you watch Stranger Things?” Carrie asked, grinning.

Bree’s face lit up. “I streamed it last week. Oh my goodness, can you believe--”

“Anoder time, please,” Saoirse cut in. “Do ya know how serious i’ is dat where dis dream world is?”

“Not really?” Carrie answered. How was she supposed to respond? She barely knew what her powers were, much less if there was consequences to using it.

“Ya could be openin’ rifts all over de country if ya’re no’ careful,” Saoirse said.

Elizabeth sighed. “Let’s not be drastic, Saoirse.” The red-head nearly cut daggers at Elizabeth for the comment, but the older woman was oblivious to it. “There was no fluctuation at Jon Jarl’s mound, and there’s nothing here. I think it’s more likely that Carrie’s right, and this is some kind of twilight zone between here and our plane, but not enough to tap into the dimension bridging our world to Pandoria. That being the case though, perhaps we should test that theory.”

The five young women all turned towards Elizabeth, confused. Saoirse asked first, “Ya wan’ us to try to open a rif’?”

“Ms. Elizabeth, is that safe?” Bree asked, curling up her hand as she asked. “What if we do rip open the tear? The protection wards have been getting weaker and weaker lately. There’s a serious chance a really wound could open soon, whatifweactuallytearsomething?” Bree took a deep breath. “It could go very badly.”

“I have a team dedicated already to investigating this flux, headed by Alex. But between a trained rune technician and one of our portal specialists, it should be fine. And if it goes poorly, I’ll personally send Alex and Linda to come help you.”

“And take dem away from wha’ dey’re already workin’ on,” Saoirse grumbled. Ari elbowed her, cutting Saoirse’s next sentence off.

“Besides, you all are a unit now,” Elizabeth said. “You won’t be able to form any kind of Soul Rider bond without some teamwork. So here’s your first mission. Test Carrie’s reality for any dangerous anomalies, and then we’ll move forward with getting you all into the Jarl’s tomb to form your bond. Alright?”

Carrie nodded. “That seems fair.” Bree agreed immediately, nodding fervently. Ari barely looked up, but motioned her agreement. Raven was silent beside Saoirse, as all eyes turned on them.

Raven glanced at Saoirse. “Help.”

Saoirse grimaced, before letting out a disgruntled sigh. “Achk, fine, bu’ don’ ya dare send Linda. She’s go’ too much on her hands. Alex would be enough. I can handle this.”

“I will do what is safe for our order,” Elizabeth answered, looking around the five of them. “But I think it will go quite well. Best of luck to all of you.” She motioned to her door, smiling, though Carrie felt something weary on the druid’s shoulders. Carrie took the cue to leave.

Outside, Valedale was as cheary and quaint as it had been a few hours ago, oblivious to the conversation that had happened in those closed doors. Carrie wondered if any other druids would even know about this. It seemed like she had stumbled on a secret the leaders of the Keepers didn’t want being passed around knowing about the actual Champion of Aideen, a surprise addition probably wasn’t on their highest order to spread if it meant sharing that secret.

“Bloody hell,” Saoirse griped, closing the door and whistled loudly for Copper. As the Icelandic trotted over, she looked at Carrie. “We goin’ now? I know a spo’ to tes’ i’, bu’ Raven says I can’ jus’ knock ya ou’. Are ya up to i?”

“You’re going to hit her?” Bree asked, aghast and taking a step away from Saoirse.

Saoirse turned to Bree, mouth slightly open and her brows twisted in a confused expression. “Did ya really jus’ fuckin’ ask dat? No, I’m no’ goin’ to hi’ her, bu’ de only way we know how to send Carrie into her dream state is wid a lo’ of magic. De magic from de Jarl’s tomb firs’ and now between--” She cut herself off and looked at Ari, who briefly looked up and shrugged. Saoirse turned back to Bree. “Dat’s all we go’ righ’ now. Bu’ gettin’ hi’ migh’ feel better dan my magic.” The last sentence was added quieter than the rest.

“How about food first?” Carrie offered. As Saoirse and Bree both started to point towards the cafe in Valedale, Carrie shook her head. “No, somewhere private. Any other restaurants in the area?”

“There’s a restaurant up at the observatory,” Bree said. “I need to get Sidhe if we’re going there though.”

“Does that work for everyone else?” Carrie inquired, looking around their circle. Everyone nodded or answered yes after a moment. Letting out a brief sigh, Carrie nodded. “Good. Um, I’m gonna get going then. I need a moment. Meet you there?”

“Ya sure?” Saoirse asked, already on Copper’s back.

“Yeah, just a minute. I’ll text when I’m cool,” Carrie replied, climbing onto Ash’s back. The mare snorted a welcome before Carrie pulled them off up the trail behind Elizabeth’s house. She heard Saoirse move to follow, but there were no hoofbeats continuing besides Ash’s.

When they rounded the bend, Carrie stopped Ash in front of the glowing pillars. The fact that they were still glowing made her uncomfortable. This whole idea of being some chosen one didn’t feel right. And it felt less right the more she was worrying about tearing a seam in reality. She wasn’t some kind of hero though. She was just her, and at the end of the day, she knew she was more worried about herself than anyone else. Not because she didn’t care, but because...what could she do? Even with magic abilities, what was dream walking going to do to protect any of her friends from a demon? What was that compared to magic Saoirse had? The Champion’s powers were probably even stronger than that.

Carrie shook her head. She had told herself she was going to try. She wasn’t going to just be pulled down some path because she happened to have this chosen gift. If she was going to be a chosen whatever, she was going to face it and not let fate just drag her away.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to doubt the being who decided it was a good idea.

Carrie gave the pillars one last look. She sighed, not sure what this meant for her and her life here in Jorvik. But there was only one way to find out. So Carrie asked Ash on.

[deboracracy]

Scenario: Un-Neutral Selection

Just like on any other Tuesday, Tina walked into her office and found her boss reclining in his chair with coffee and a box of food. Today it was a mug of PJ’s cold brew, because it was never too cold for iced coffee in New Orleans, and a half dozen heavily frosted cupcakes.

“Good morning, Tina,” Christian Moynahan said, gesturing toward the box. “Breakfast?”

“No, thank you. I’m on a diet,” Tina answered, settling into a chair. “What’s new today?”

“You’re on a diet?” Christian asked. “Does that mean my AI is having body image issues? Should I be worried?”

“A health-food diet. I understand if the concept is foreign to you,” Tina replied, eyeing the cupcakes. “I see you sent me the daily upload, but I’m having trouble accessing it. Is there a problem with the wifi?”

Christian took a sip of coffee. “Are you using our intranet or an outside network?”

Tina paused while she checked her connection. “Oh, I have it now. I was on an external LTE network.”

“That would explain it,” Christian said. “Moynacorp hasn’t paid the ransoms this month, so the ISPs are throttling our services.”

“Oh,” Tina said. “Wait, what about Hortical? They said they wouldn’t force small businesses to pay ransoms for faster data speeds.”

“Oh, they don’t,” Christian said breezily. “They throttle us because I made a comment in support of gay marriage a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hmm.” Tina thought for a moment. “What about AB&C? They said they support net neutrality and wouldn’t throttle any services.”

“They did say that,” Christian said. “But that doesn’t stop them from speeding up websites that they like and leaving the rest of us on suboptimal performance. Which isn’t exactly neutral, but hey, money is power, right?”

“Ugh.” Tina folded her arms. Then she sat up again, buoyed by inspiration. “Wait, what about Claira? They’re a small startup, just like us. They wouldn’t make us pay a ransom or throttle our traffic due to politics or anything else, right?”

There was a bit of wistfulness to Christian’s smile. “They wouldn’t if they didn’t have to. But their competitors, like AB&C and Hortical, charge them their own ransom just to keep from being shut out of the telecom industry. But Claira is too small to absorb the ransom, so they pass it on to us and their other customers in the form of higher fees. In turn, Moynacorp couldn’t absorb their higher rates, so we use a different ISP.”

“Then how does anyone expect Claira to survive?” Tina asked, aghast.

“No one in telecom cares because they’re just a small-fry competitor. No one in government cares because they don’t have lobbying power and can’t grease palms.” Christian shrugged behind his coffee.

“And how is any of that okay?” Tina demanded.

“I didn’t say it was,” Christian answered patiently. “But until more folks start speaking up, this is the new normal.”

Tina slouched. “That’s kinda depressing, Christian.”

“I know it. Welcome to life in the slow lane.” Christian nudged the box of baked goods across the desk. “How are you feeling about these cupcakes now?”

“No wonder you’re stuffing yourself to an early grave,” Tina remarked, snatching up a cupcake.

“Yes. Net neutrality is only the beginning of the digital trials we’re going to face,” Christian said. “But for now, let’s take them one at a time.”

[greenparispavement]

concept: Angst 1, 2, 3, 4

It hadn’t lasted of course. Plagg had known it wouldn’t. He had sensed the switch and known about it as soon as it had occurred, but he hadn’t expected his kitten to pick up on it so quickly too. It almost made him sadder; this set of chosen ones could have been one of the greatest Ladybug and Chat Noir pairs they’d ever had. Instead his silly kitten had screwed the pooch and now, they were stuck with someone else.

He hadn’t told the boy the truth. Evading his questions with complaints about hunger and cheese had become an unwelcome but familiar routine. And Adrien didn’t let go of things easily - he wouldn’t have been such a good black cat if he did. As it was, Plagg did all he could to be as obnoxious and annoying as possible, trying to put Adrien off the scent.

It had worked to a certain extent. Adrien had stopped asking, but he hadn’t stopped looking. He knew something was wrong with Ladybug, off, but he hadn’t once thought the girl was a different one. Tikki was cunning, or maybe her girl was - the first one - because she looked exactly the same. Her voice was slightly different, and her fighting style was completely at odds with the first girl Tikki had picked, but she wasn’t at all a bad match for the creation Kwami. Adrien was another story.

The rapport that he’d built with the first girl had taken a year to make solid, but it had been there from the start. This one took a bit more work. She was flustered and blushing half the time, which allowed Plagg to distract Adrien with teasing and jabs at him, wondering at his complaining now that he had finally captured his lady’s heart. Those comments, which were a little below the belt, even Plagg would admit, only distracted him for so long. He wasn’t stupid. He noticed that Ladybug’s yoyoing style had changed. That she seemed not to know people they had previously met several times, that she wasn’t as quick to figure out the lucky charm the first few times. Soon, however, impossibly quickly, as if she had coaching of some kind, the new girl picked up her own slack and they were back in business.

Adrien remained faltering and unsure until one night, the new Ladybug kissed him. It had sent his kitten on a rollercoaster of messed up emotions, diving into confusion from heights of bliss and happiness when the kiss felt wonderful, and yet unreal and wrong at the same time.

It all came to a head on the third day of school. Plagg would have found it poetic if it didn’t break his kitten’s heart into sharp fragments. The akuma sent was particularly destructive. Demolition themed and armed with wrecking balls for arms, he’d already reduced a handful of buildings to sawdust, and a baby crying inside one of them had been the siren’s call for any Ladybug. And of course; of course Chat Noir followed where his Lady went.

Plagg sensed Tikki the moment Adrien’s transformation gave out. He led his injured but mobile charge to where he could hear his other half’s reedy voice, and was right on time to see a blond head, covered in blood and trapped under a number of beams, before someone else walked up.

‘You came!’ Tikki exclaimed tearfully, and Plagg willed Adrien to be quiet, to shut up and listen. Maybe his kitten was learning, or maybe he was too shocked to speak as the red Kwami jumped up and nuzzled another girl’s cheek, but he barely breathed.

‘Of course I did, I followed every battle as closely as I could. Alya wouldn’t say no to another camera angle, after all, and after being arrested three times my parents have as many white hairs as they can get from this.’

She chuckled slightly before looking down. ‘Is she alive?’ she asked, her voice tremulous.

‘Yes, but hurt very badly,’ Tikki replied with sorrow. She turned to the girl, her back to Plagg and Adrien, wearing camo gear, a tank top and dark pigtails. ‘Will you?’

‘I will always help where I can. And this will even throw them off Magda if we work it well. I think the dogs are sniffing around her, now?’ Tikki only nodded. ‘Well then. Let’s celebrate our anniversary, shall we!’

Tikki nodded, the girl picked the earrings and said the words. Plagg was not sure his kitten had words left in him until he said a very important one.

‘…Marinette?’

Ladybug - the original one, though no one would ever know the difference - turned. Adrien stared at her aghast, and Plagg was not sure whether his charge was thinking a million things, or nothing at all.

She stared at him a moment longer before straightening. ‘Are you hurt? Will you be able to fight?’

‘You’re Ladybug,’ was the only thing he said.

‘No, she is. I’m only borrowing this to help out. We need to hurry, she’s hurt bad.’

‘You’re Ladybug,’ he insisted, apparently too lost to hear her. ‘I know you, You’re the one who I fought with first!’

‘She’s the one you fight with now,’ Ladybug reiterated. ‘Do you believe that there really has been only one of us since the beginning of time? We change all the time.’

‘But you’re my Ladybug!’ Adrien insisted, his brain apparently only capable of short, cut sentences.

‘That’s wrong on all accounts,’ the girl replied, in a clipped tone much harder than before. ‘Look, she doesn’t have much time, and even though the cure will bring her back, I don’t want her to die in the first place. Help me save her, Madelaine loves you.’

‘And you?’ he asked in a gasp. ‘Did you ever-?’ he went quiet, pale, and swayed alarmingly. Plagg thought for an instant that his injuries were worse than he had originally thought. Then he realised that Adrien must have remembered Valentine’s day, a little more than half year ago.

Marinette, Ladybug, looked at him steadily. ‘Once,’ she said simply. ‘Now we have an akuma to stop, and some very interested police officers to distract. Let’s get to it, Chat Noir.’

He whimpered, and Plagg knew, beyond all doubt, that it was because she had failed to call him any of the beloved nicknames she’d had for him before.

‘Unless, you’re too injured?’ she asked, concerned.

‘No,’ Adrien said, ‘Let’s … let’s get this over with. Plagg, transforme m…’

The Kwami had nothing more than faint recollections of feelings until his kitten detransformed. He was standing on a rooftop, tears streaming down his cheeks, hand still held up as if to finish with the customary fist-bump the new girl had kept. But there was no Ladybug, only the detransformed girl.

‘I have to get Tikki back to her proper wielder. She’s going to be worried,’ Marinette said, matter of factly.

‘One last time,’ Adrien begged, nudging the air with his fist. ‘Please, just one last time.’

‘There isn’t time,’ Marinette replied, and Plagg was not sure he believed one of Tikki’s bugs could be this heartless if he hadn’t seen the sheen of tears in her eyes. ‘I tried to tell you, Adrien. Ladybug doesn’t exist.’

‘You exist! You’re here, and, I beg you, please…’

‘The current Ladybug loves you,’

‘I don’t love her!’ he burst out. ‘I’ve been trying to understand for past month why I can’t seem to feel for her as I used to! She looks exactly like you, but I just didn’t feel anything anymore when she spoke to me, or fought with me, or laughed with me or kissed me.’

That got a reaction out of the girl, making her gasp briefly before she cut it off. Adrien seized the opportunity, rushing forward to grab Marinette’s shoulders.

‘I couldn’t understand it,’ Adrien said, voice caught between sobs. ‘I should have been happy, but I wasn’t. I felt awful, fickle and bad. I never even realised I’d driven you away.’

‘I did it because of the Surete, mostly,’ the girl hedged.

‘Don’t lie,’ Adrien replied.

‘I’m not,’ she huffed back. ‘It … it solved multiple problems.’ She looked away, at last unable to contain her tears, and Adrien hugged her hard. Plagg flew to Tikki, sitting beside her on the roof’s perimeter fence.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered, hugging her too and purring. They watched quietly as the two humans spoke in hushed voices to one another, Adrien begging, Marinette hesitating. ‘These last few weeks must have been hard. I’m sorry my kitten is an idiot.’

‘So am I,’ Tikki replied with melancholy. ‘If I hadn’t insisted she keep her identity from him, Marinette may have told him; she wanted to some months before it all went south. We could have avoided all this.’

‘Maybe they needed it, to grow and learn to talk to one another,’ he tried.

‘All they learned was not to trust one another. It will be hard now, you know it as well as I do, Plagg. If they work out at all this cycle, it will be a lot of work, and only because they’re both stubborn enough to try. They could have been so happy.’

‘They still can be,’ he insisted. ‘If your bug loves him half as much as he loves her, that is.’

‘I don’t know, Plagg,’ Tikki replied sorrowfully. ‘That’s the point. You know how my charges get - the task is more important. Their head before their heart; I even teach them that, but this time it may mean, that…’

‘We have to trust them,’ Plagg replied, watching as Adrien cautiously, gently kissed Marinette; a light brush of the lips that lasted barely a second. Marinette moved away, reluctant and uncomfortable, and then she sighed.

‘What will I tell Magda…’

‘I’ll tell her I have a girlfriend,’ Adrien said. ‘I know we are not that yet,’ he added quickly when he saw Marinette start. ‘But I’m yours anyway. I made this bed, I’ll lie in it, and I’ll help you fight off the damn Surete. You should have told me; I just have to phone my dad, he’ll sick something on them to leave you alone.’

‘The ladybugs have finished,’ Marinette said by way of an answer. She moved out of his grasp, his hands falling limp at his side as she walked to the perimeter fence. They were both silent for a moment, then she went on. ‘I started Lycee two days ago. A new start. I thought…’ She fell silent again.

‘I started public school a year ago too. A new start.’ Adrien joined her at the parapet, looking out the restored city, electric illumination beginning to flicker on and competing with the sunset for spectacle lights.

‘I fell in love with you exactly a year ago today; on the third day of school.’ Plagg saw Adrien turn to stare at her. ‘It was raining. I was being horrible to you because of something you hadn’t even done, and I didn’t even give you the chance to apologise. Then, you were so kind and polite.’ She stopped for a moment, smiling fondly at something far away. ‘You gave me your umbrella and got wet on the way to your car.’

‘I remember being so happy that you’d forgiven me,’ Adrien replied in a similar hushed tone, quiet with memory and melancholy. ‘This time I don’t even deserve it. But if you could, if you could give me another chance…’

‘I … ok.’

Plagg could have yowled in happiness. As it was, Tikki slapped a hand onto his mouth so he wouldn’t interrupt. It was tentative anyway; he could see how tense and unsure she was, and he knew Adrien would have a lot of work to make up for his mistakes. They watched as Adrien put an arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing while Marinette stood still. She didn’t reciprocate the gesture, but she didn’t push him off, even leaning into him slightly.

‘It won’t be easy, Kitty,’ Marinette went on.

‘I don’t deserve it to be,’ Adrien replied.

‘I mean, for me, too.’ The girl shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I can be Ladybug again, not when there’s another girl to take into account now. And I may … it may not be easy for me with you, at first. I think I’m still a little angry.’

‘I’ll take it all. That’s the point of a second chance; I’ve got to grovel.’ He kissed her temple very slowly, careful for a sign of rejection. It didn’t come and he sighed into her hair. ‘I’m willing to work as hard as you need.’

‘And if I need months? Or years?’ she whispered back.

‘Best way to spend my time, if you ask me,’ he replied. Plagg nodded at Tikki.

‘Well,’ he said, flying up the them. ’The best way to spend my time is eating cheese.’

‘Not that anyone asked,’ Adrien snarked back.

‘We should look for Magda. She must be worried about Tikki. She may do something stupid; expose herself while looking.’

‘In that case, Ladybug could always swoop in and automatically get her out of trouble,’ Plagg suggested. They began walking towards the stairwell, night wind catching their hair. Marinette didn’t deny the possibility, and it was enough to tell Plagg she was at least thinking about it.

‘You know, this idea to switch Ladybugs is brilliant to get the police off our backs. Maybe I should see into getting an understudy myself.’

‘Maybe there is someone I could suggest; from Magda’s life,’ Tikki quietly suggested, speaking for the first time. They all stopped to look at her. ‘All good Ladybugs have their potential Chat Noir.’

‘Let’s go meet them, then,’ Adrien decided. Plagg looked on carefully. Tikki’s body language was much lighter, aura relieved. Adrien walked with a determined lilt in his step that spoke of stubbornness and his will to make amends. Marinette’s step was a lot more hesitant, unsure. She looked at Adrien a few times, sometimes walking farther away, sometimes walking closer, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether she wanted to be near him or run away. Plagg supposed, under the circumstances, it was a victory that she wasn’t sending him to hell.

They had work to do. They were undeniably broken. But for the first time since February, Plagg had hope.

And hey, if he got another Chat Noir, that meant double the cheese. You wouldn’t catch him complaining.

=0=

Fun Fact; Magdalains are lovely, spongey sweets that are often served with coffee. They are fiendishly hard to get right, but their taste is more than worth the labour of love. As Tikki subsists on sweets, and Marinette’s name has a bread pun in it, I thought it was fitting to name another Ladybug after a type of cake.

 I very nearly did not end this on a positive (?) note. I almost had Adrien never know who the original Ladybug was, and just spend the rest of his days knowing that the one he was fighting with now wasn’t the one he’d started with, and being forever unable to find her. But then I couldn’t be that cruel. As it is, they still got lots of work to do.

THE END

(from my end. Anyone who wants to pitch into it, be my guest!)

[renaroo]

Double Time (15/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I had a great vacation last week at my family’s house and it’s been a lot of fun to play around with how to deliver this chapter. Hope you’re all happy with the product <3

Special thanks to @a-taller-tale, @secretlystephaniebrown, @cobaltqueen, @washingtonstub, @icefrozenover, @analiarvb, @notatroll7, Enmuse, Yin, and @thepheonixqueen on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

Where You Spend Your Downtime

There were many ways that things could go wrong for them. Off the top of his head, Washington could think of twelve -- maybe twenty if he did not double check the basket. 

Really, just based on statistics, they were going to be in for a devastating time if he didn’t turn on the news and at least see the weather--

“Oh my god, Wash, we have been waiting at the door for ten minutes,” Tucker moaned from said door, his head rolling back and hitting the wood panel. 

Even Junior was beginning to get restless, running in and out of the apartment through Tucker’s legs no matte how much of a tight squeeze it had become for him as of late. 

“It’s just... waiting for an accident,” Wash replied candidly, looking at Tucker. “Something could go wrong any minute and we’re just... not going to be prepared for it.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes. “Will you feel better if I let you wear your uniform under your clothes like last time?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Wash said, rubbing at his scruffy chin. 

When was the last time he had shaved?

“Really? Because last time we went to the park and I let you do that, you had to wear a turtle neck and long pants to cover up the stupid thing and you nearly had a heat stroke,” Tucker reminded him. “Instead you went under that tree for shade and ended up sleeping the entire time.”

Pausing, Washington found he couldn’t stop rubbing the scruff. “Actually, I don’t think I was sleeping. That might’ve actually been a heatstroke.” 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Tucker said simply, like that was the end of the conversation. He then turned back around and pulled Junior up into his arms with some great difficulty. “For someone who hasn’t had much to do this month, you really struggle with the concept of free time.”

“Struggle’s a harsh term for it,” Wash replied, finally walking to the door and gabbing the basket and apartment keys along the way. “Struggle would imply I was still clean cut every day. that I set up google alerts on my phone to check on everyone else’s progress without me. That I was hunting down Locus at night.”

Tucker finally gave up his struggle and set Junior down before glancing curiously at Washington. “So what’s it mean that you’re not doing all of those things and are still freaking out?”

Wash adjusted his sunglasses as they headed down the stairs and to the street. “I... I guess the only logical answer is that I’m... enjoying myself,” he said with some great amount of difficulty. “That I... like having less responsibility. Which, just to be clear, is completely against everything I know about myself as a person.”

To Washington’s infinite surprise, Tucker actually grew something of an affection smirk at the comment. “You’re a big dork underneath your scruff, y’know that?”

“That would also go against everything I know about myself,” Wash noted before finally sighing and gathering the last of his things. “But I guess discovering yourself is something you do when you have the time for it.”

“Nah, it’s something you do when the chips are down and you don’t know what’s going to happen next,” Tucker assured him, finally taking Junior’s hand and leading him out the door just in time for Wash to grab the young alien’s other hand. “That’s why you already know you’re a hero who sacrifices life and limb for ungrateful idiots all the time.”

“Is that really any way to talk about your friends?” Wash asked without being able to stop himself. For his troubles he got a grin and a punch to his shoulder as they moved out onto the streets and toward Blood Gulch’s one, only, and most disappointing public park.

“No need to be a jackass,” Tucker laughed.

The truth was, Washington still wasn’t sure how he felt about having time off to himself. There was a lot with his time that was just a curious anomaly. But the one thing he got used to almost immediately was the smile it put on Tucker’s face and the relaxation in the man’s shoulders.

For the first time in months, Tucker truly looked like the guy who had fished Wash out of the dumpster. In all the best ways.

And as much as there was a longing in Wash’s heart to go out, to do more, to be a hero, he also had to concede to the reality that at least some of that ache was ebbed by Tucker’s continued happiness. With the satisfaction of fulfilling the responsibilities he had to his own, personal, new responsibilities.

Balance seemed to be the word that Washington had been looking for but not quite found.

Getting to the park, there really wasn’t much of a surprise that there was no one else there. It was Blood Gulch after all, and if Junior hadn’t had skin as thick as literal scales and the ability to chew through most metals, Wash was sure Tucker would have been more apprehensive about letting him play on the equipment.

As it currently stood, the only thing between Junior’s enjoyment and Wash and Tucker appreciating a cool summer breeze was that some debris and tree branches were blocking one of the slides.

“You know what’d make my vote for this whole mayor thing?” Tucker asked, setting aside the book bag he shrugged off. “How about some goddamn civic service around here?”

“It’d be a good platform,” Wash agreed. “Between this stuff and the potholes.”

“Dude, don’t get me started on the potholes. The potholes are destroying the wheels of my car,” Tucker whined. Junior was hanging off his arm and, unlike only a few months ago, Tucker strained to lift him just enough to not have his feet on the ground. “Okay, li’l dude, you need to go play on the monkey bars while Wash and I clear this side of the playground up.”

Junior’s mandibles clicked together and he took off with a bounce in his step.

“I love how you volunteer me for things without asking,” Wash said dryly as they walked toward the slide.

“Oh, shut up, Mister Superhero,” Tucker laughed, beginning to tug on the smaller branches and leaving the actual heavy lifting to Wash. “You love this civil service shit.”

“And you don’t take any pride in your neighborhood?” Wash asked critically, lifting up some of the larger debris and carrying it toward the unemptied trash bin.

“No, I take pride in a paycheck,” Tucker responded. “Someone’s job could be to take care of this shit. Like Donut. Donut’s job could be to clean stuff. He needs another job. Lopez could probably use another job, too. And Doc. Fuck everyone we know is poor. Why isn’t the city paying people to do stuff it needs done?”

“Maybe because most of the people you just mentioned are part of the reason things keep getting broken around here,” Wash offered.

“That’s so not true. You can’t blame us for potholes. That shit’s from like… you causing explosions or something. How do potholes get made anyway?” Tucker asked curiously.

“I don’t make things explode,” Wash replied, aghast. “I save people from explosions.”

“Dude, it was just a way of pointing out that you like to, I don’t know, profile Blood Gulchers as some kinda depraved super villains,” Tucker responded sharply.

Washington stared at him. “Tucker. Literally all of your friends are former super villains, dating former super villains, or under the guardianship of former super villains,” he reminded him. “And that last one — Kai? I highly suspect she was lying when she told us at our last get together that she was legal drinking age.”

Tucker blinked. “Well, duh,” he replied. “But, I mean, you knew what you were getting into with us. And now you’re one of us. How’s that for losers?”

Humming to himself, Wash threw out the last of the debris just before Junior tested his luck and slid down the slide regardless of their preparedness. “I guess it’s slightly better trajectory than what usually happens to self-made superheroes,” he said as he caught Junior just before he landed.

“And what’s the usual trajectory?” Tucker snarked. “Dead before befriending super villains?”

“Basically,” Wash answered with a laugh, putting Junior down. He waited for the bundle of energy to race off again for parts of the jungle gym unknown and then turned to face Tucker more seriously. “Listen… I… Thank you for getting me to open up to… more help. Letting people, I don’t know, delegate some of my responsibilities. That way I can have more time to appreciate what I’m protecting… To appreciate you and Junior.”

There was a moment where Tucker seemed actually, genuinely speechless, though of course it did not last long. “Holy shit, that’s… Yeah. Good. Glad you get it!” He paused before rubbing his neck and then looking reluctantly back at Wash. “I know you don’t talk about Freelancer much… but the fact is… I wasn’t ever a hero and I wasn’t ever involved with the cops-and-robbers bullshit, but I watched what it did to the people who… I mean, at the time… Church and Tex were more than my best friends. Those years before I dropped out of college when I realized there weren’t any greek sororities, just Greek classes, they were my family. Our stupid little apartment, watching stupid reality shows, listening to Church try to take over the world with a computer that totally had a separate window for porn hidden in the corner, I’m sure of it. It was awesome… until it was like… Everyone forgot how to appreciate the things that counted. I don’t even know why Tex and Church were doing what they were doing before it all broke apart in the end. I don’t think they did either. And y’know. It killed my best friend to an annoying robot-status, and my other best friend disappeared for years without even bothering to tell us she was alive. Shit sucked. And I don’t… I need to know you’re not going to forget what you’ve got to come home to, too.”

Taken aback, Wash tilted his head and looked to Tucker, watching as a faint but still noticeable blush was beginning to spread across the other man’s cheeks. Tucker then covered his face and groaned.

“Nevermind, that was way too sappy,” Tucker whined.

“Well, I guess that makes me a cornball because I appreciated every word,” Washington assured him.

“Yeah?” Tucker asked, peeking between his fingers.

“Yeah,” Wash assured him.

“In that case,” Tucker said, losing any for of seeming embarrassment he once held. “Do you mind setting up the picnic table over there and stuff while I make sure there’s no more dangerous crap around the play area?”

Washington rubbed his scruffy chin. “Hm, sounds like you’re asking for permission to stroll around while I continue to do all the work. But sure.”

“And they say cats can’t learn tricks,” Tucker laughed, turning and walking with some pep in his step toward where Junior was hanging upside down from the monkey bars. “Is that a monkey I see or is it a little me?”

Junior cooed in joy, bringing a smile to Wash’s face as he grabbed up the picnic stuff and started toward the table.

It looked clear from the short distance between it and Wash, for which he was grateful. Less bird droppings or used needles to deal with the better in Blood Gulch, after all. But he found himself coming to a standstill when the easy breeze of the summer day temporarily picked up to a full on gust. It forced Wash to hold up his arm and shield from the blast until it passed as quickly as it came.

“Weird,” Wash muttered, lowering his arm before seeing that there was suddenly a scrap of paper on the table.

Sighing at the litter, Wash walked over to the table, dropped the basket onto the table, and reached over to throwaway what he had to assume was trash before noticing thick letters strewn across it in what smelled like fresh sharpie.

“The hell,” Wash said out loud before grabbing the note and reading it.

Only Trust Who You Know

Washington felt a cold chill run down his spine and he glanced around the park. He tuned out the joyous sounds of Tucker and Junior playing around on the playground and tried instead to focus on finding anyone in the area — anyone at all, who could be the source of the note and the sudden sense of dread spreading across him.

With enhanced senses, he surely enough detected someone in the line of trees nearby.

Eyes narrowed, Wash pulled a throwing knife he had secreted away in the back of his belt and threw it across the park with expert precision. It was a warning, and it left its mark by sticking to the side of the tree’s bark.

The action had been fierce enough that Tucker and Junior’s attentions were now drawn to Wash, and Tucker was immediately picking up the kid who he could now barely carry despite Junior’s protests.

“Wash! What the hell’s going on?” he demanded.

Not answering Tucker, Washington kept his hand back ready to grab for another — last — throwing knife on his person and glared at the trees. “I know you’re there, come out. Slowly.”

“Easy, easy,” a sly and familiar voice said before two gloved hands held themselves up and Felix walked out from behind the tree. “Just a friend, checking in on you. Haven’t seen you on the prowl much, after all. Had to make sure everything’s going alright.”

“Felix?” Wash asked, not easing up. Still, despite himself, a sense of calm was coming over his body. “What are you… How?”

For a moment, Washington spared a glance toward Tucker and Junior just to see as Tucker was already backing toward the playground to keep distance and find a way to cover his face. It was something they had known to look out for eventually, but Washington couldn’t help but feel the uselessness of it all. They were dealing with someone who had been watching them from the shadows while they carried on with their family day with some amount of reckless abandon.

Stupid stupid stupid, Wash, he growled to himself.

“Oh, come on, now, Wash,” Felix said with an easy shrug. “I mean, after all, who do you think let Kimball in on your little secret? I have to keep an eye out for my partner. And that means knowing who I’m keeping that eye on.”

“I don’t know you, doesn’t seem fair in return,” Wash said. “I don’t appreciate you coming around my family uninvited. I don’t appreciate you spying on me uninvited. And I don’t appreciate you sharing my secrets without permission,” Wash said darkly. “Leave. After all, I should only trust who I know.”

Felix seemed to hang back for a moment, as if he was expecting something else. But when it didn’t happen, he straightened up and grew a soured look. “That’s a dumb catchphrase, Wash. You could use a little more trust. But, hey, I’ll just take my leave if you don’t want a guardian hero keeping an eye out for you.”

Washington didn’t ease up until he was certain that the other hero was gone. Then he stood in silence, taking in the moment as best he could, while Tucker and Junior came up to his side.

“He’s watching us? Like… some kinda voyeur? What the fuck. I liked him but that’s weird,” Tucker said, struggling to hold Junior by his side.

“He didn’t recognize the phrase,” Wash said, glancing down to the note in his hand.

“What phrase?” Tucker asked curiously.

“Guardian hero keeping an eye out for you,” Wash repeated, getting lost in thought.

“Is that the phrase? What are we talking about?” Tucker demanded. “Wash! Hello? You there?”

Washington glanced back to Tucker and took a breath. “He wasn’t here for us. And this note I found isn’t from him. And I think we’re about to have more going on than I realized.”

Tucker stared straight into his eyes for a solid thirty seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a long hiss of air. “Okay, sit down and go through what every part of that meant. We made way too much progress on talking feelings today for you to start your cryptic shit again, Wash.”

“Right, sorry,” Wash apologized, sitting at the table, though suddenly very aware of their surroundings.

Tucker sat down with him and they began their chat about mysterious superheroes, unknown anomalies, and blue blurs.

If they had been on the internet, they probably would have been at conspiracy theory websites already.