Fantasy ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ dying to see you again | din • corvus corax

[tsumu]

when the california dream turns out to be a nightmare for heroes and villains alike, who are they to turn to? ​

 

[tsumu]

joel king • 23 • villain



ability; super-res. joel does not get sick, nor is he affected by most market drugs. he utilizes custom-made stimulants to boost his strength, speed, and mind while in a fight. he wields guns as his main weapons, one of which shoots small vials of the stimulant he uses on himself, a substance deadly in its unfiltered, undiluted form to most people. too, he’s had a variety of metal implants installed in his body– some visible, some not. he’s not meant to count on them; they’re his plan z against heroes who catch him in a bad spot. they cannot become infected or be rejected by his body, so he takes advantage of that to try and get himself up to par with heroes with more impressive powers.

origin; joel hails from a lower class family; growing up, life was hard. he had only a very select few people he could put his trust in, none of which were blood relatives. it wasn’t long into adolescence before practically every good influence he had fled his life, and he was left to scramble to find a purpose to cling to. he found solace in his less than model peers; he was a party trick, a raucous hell-raiser in his youth, but it quickly turned to a life of black-market smuggling and villainy as he explored his abilities further and further, until he (allegedly) nearly killed himself.

his villain name is fiend, much to his distaste. it's a play on his moral alignment and his unsavory drug habit. he's not a particularly well known villain, preferring to keep his head down and get work done than be in the limelight like other villains.

​

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard ‘Beau’ Faust • 23 • Hero

Ability; Teleportation. Beau is able to teleport in quick bursts or long-distances, depending on the situation and how much stamina she has. She is able to take objects and even other people with her, so long as she makes physical contact with them. Though others tend to feel nauseous at the sudden reappearance, she has mostly gotten used to it. She does carry a couple concealed weapons, the first being a dagger strapped to side, and the second being some brass knuckles on a keyring for that extra protection. She prefers to rely on her fists, as she’s never been a fan of unnecessary bloodshed. Though she can and will use them if she deems it necessary.

Origin; Beau was ever the curious child. Growing up, she would always wander off, exploring whatever she could. Being an only child, Beau was often quite shy around others, though she learned to be more outgoing throughout the years. She had loving parents, both of which who were present in her life until she became old enough to stay home on her own. Since then, she was pretty much left on her own, her parents constantly traveling to keep up with their jobs. Luckily, she had her close friends to hang around with, until her powers began to surface and she went into isolation while trying to keep herself from teleporting out of control.

Her hero name is Blitz, meaning a sudden energetic and concerted effort, typically on a specific task. It stuck with her as she became more known around the city for her teleportation, helping with any sort of odds and ends. With how versatile her powers are, she can help just about anyone.

Her hero costume is fairly simple, a suit with a mask and a hood. The mask consists of two pieces and is removable, with the bottom color being a blue to match the accents of the suit.

​

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

green is such a beautiful color.

the instant that joel's eyes flit to the weighty glass vial in his hands, time seems to slow. it fits snugly in his hand, resting delicately between his fingers while he looks on with reverence. the middle of the vial is fragile glass, but joel knows how to handle it. the contents of the vial are an unnatural neon green color, solid all the way through with not a single impurity. this is joel's favorite part.

on one end of the vial, a long, clear cap conceals a lengthy needle. deftly, joel pops the cap off to reveal the needle in all its glory; it practically glints in the dim light. there's no time to waste.

he spins the vial, a stuck habit that developed out of the desire for a bit of flair, before plunging the needle straight into his skin. what used to be the most unfavorable part of using stims was now painless. with his thumb, he pressed the small, flat button on the other end of the vial that would release the drugs into his blood stream. that was definitely his favorite part.

the moment the vial finished expressing its contents-- a process that took less than two and a half seconds-- joel tossed the needle aside and stood frozen to the floor for a brief moment, taking a second to feel the stim flow through his veins. it was glorious.

the causamphetimine epidemic had been taking los angeles by storm. scientists (experienced drug chemists) were pushing out as much as they could, selling it to businessmen (druglords) who were distributing it by quick and efficient means (drug pushers) to valuable customers (tweakers) for recreational use (getting higher than heaven and whatever was beyond it). giant facilities disguised as proper business distribution centers were filled to the brim with the stuff; on the street it was affectionately known as 'caus' and it was in such high demand, its owners often required hired help to keep it safe.

that was where joel came in.

in exchange for a boatload of caus and a hefty sum, joel put his life on the line to thwart anyone who came sniffing around his boss' stash. he was a rat catcher.

and the place was crawling with rats.

joel couldn't let himself relish in the soft high that the caus gave him for very long. he had a job to do, and it was best to take care of the rats before they got spooked and dispersed.

there was a hero team infiltrating the warehouse. his boss-- or rather, contractor, as joel preferred-- had alerted him to suspicious activity that was going on around his warehouse, so he'd spent the day skulking around the imposing facility, walking the aisles and staking out doors. it'd amounted to nothing, until the clock struck 3 a.m. and a loading dock was forced open by what could only be described as superhuman force. the security had radioed him to warn him that these weren't just everyday people he'd be dealing with. it was no frustrated addict looking for his next fix, it was a team looking to topple his contractor's operation.

joel waited for the team near the entrance they had forced open. he'd spent some time debating whether or not to face them head on, but after being notified by security that there was only one, maybe two variants with the team, he resolved to give them a warm, quick welcome.

from a bird's eye spot on top of a towering shelf, joel made first contact. the variant was obvious-- a hulking man dressed in shiny material different from the rest of the people with him. he looked to be no more than a raw strength hero, but judging a book by its cover could very well be fatal in situations like these. playing it smart and keeping distance would be essential.

with him, joel had taken a few capsules of caus. not for himself, but for the welcoming party. it was so, so easy. unbeknownst to joel's presence, the team made their way further into the facility, sticking together as a group, brandishing their impressive guns to ward off attackers.

in an instant, pandemonium broke out within the team. the screams of men and women rang out in the warehouse, and joel watched with wide eyes as half of the group scrambled around like headless chickens, screeching about green droplets melting their flesh. the capsules of caus that joel had tossed from atop the shelves had exploded upon impact with the band of heroes, and undiluted caus was practically raw acid. nearly two-hundred recreational vials of caus could be made from an undiluted capsule like the one joel held in his hand.

joel was able to retain his anonymity until he tossed yet another capsule, exposing himself in the process. he'd splashed a few more of the heroes, but the variant had eyes on him. in an instant, joel's high ground was compromised by the variant bum rushing the foundation, slamming his fists into the metal and causing the whole thing to shake and wobble. joel heard things hitting the floor, and his face flushed red. his contractor would be livid if joel destroyed the product in an effort to protect the product.

with all the grace of a crazed monkey, joey made his way down the shelf, using the ledges like a far oversized ladder. sober, he'd be moving at half the speed he was currently at, and probably wouldn't have even dared to attempt such a maneuver. that was the beauty of caus.

he hit the ground with a thud, and metal in his legs vibrating on impact. he draw his guns from their holsters, and all of a sudden, he was face to face with the variant. he recalled seeing his face on tv; he'd been a con-hero before con-heroes were a thing. he worked with government teams during dangerous operations, and had a very high success rate.

he was thinking of something to say, but nothing came to mind. he couldn't bring himself to be cordial.

the variant cut to the chase, lurching forward in an attempt to grab joel by his neck. his hand closed into a tight, shaking fist mere inches in front of his throat, joel having jerked backward just in the nick of time.

what a rude fucker, he thought bitterly. some heroes liked flair and would talk before trying to flatten him, but not this guy.

joel swung his pistol at the hero's arm, knocking it away from his throat. he turned and ran, keeping low to the ground, his heartrate rising exponentially. he ran for a stretch, then whipped around to find that he'd doubled the distance of the hero. slow ass.

he fired one shot, two, three, in the hero's direction. one was a bullet, two was a vial of caus, and three was another bullet. the hero was better at dodging than he was running, and all joel managed to do was graze his arm. the hero pulled out the gun strapped to his back: an automatic weapon that gave joel pause; it was scary.

but how boring; a regular old gunfight.

joel dove behind a shelf as the variant started shooting. he follow joel's path, shooting pallets and boxes in the way of him. joel's eye twitched violently as he heard shattering glass-- stop it, you fucking lard, you're fucking everything up, he screamed in his head, and when the hero's fire ceased, he peeked the corner to retaliate. the hero was closer than he'd anticipated, but it wasn't a bad thing. joel managed to stick him with a caus-infused dart in the cheek and a bullet in the shoulder. the hero cried out, staggered, but managed to return fire. joel scrambled away, but in his mind he'd already won. once the dart made contact with skin, undiluted caus would enter the body, and as far as joel was concerned, that was game over.

gunfire rang out for a few seconds more, but then it stopped. he heard a heavy thud, and he rounded the corner to find the variant on the floor, eyes and mouth open wide. his eyes were twitching in their sockets, and he seemed to be choking on his tongue. that was a lucky shot, joel admitted to himself. the darts were powerful, but could easily be thwarted by armor or immediate extraction.

he had no time to stand over the variant and debate whether or not to spare his life; the few personnel left from the team were already on his ass.

he set off after them with a giddy feeling in his chest. their protector was gone; they were easy pickings! he sprinted down the aisle toward the feeble three men and women left, diving to the ground in a sports-eqsue fashion when they started firing their guns. he got back up in a somersault, and slammed the barrel of his weapon into one of the men's chin, his head snapping backward and blood spraying from his mouth where he'd bit his tongue. with a solid kick to the ankle, the man was on the ground, where joel could very easily shoot a dart into his neck.

he turned his attention to the other two, who seemed to be moving in slow motion. damn, it's really kickin' in now, he thought excitedly, and lunged toward his next target.

. . .

by the time joel limped through his front door, it was eight a.m. and he was exhausted.

after the ordeal, he'd had to explain the events to his contractor's lackey, who then had to contact his boss, who then insisted on coming down and dealing with the variant himself. joel had watched with a straight face as his boss, a large, imposing man with golden skin and a metal hand put a bullet through the variant's temple. at least he hadn't been aware of his own death, joel consoled himself. people killed themselves on caus all the time; this was hardly different.

he stumbled to his sofa, collapsing on the black leather in a heap. he'd had to work off the stim since the fight hadn't lasted very long, which amounted to him sprinting laps around the warehouse. now he was done. he wouldn't have to work for another few days, so he could recuperate.

lazily, he switched on the tv: a cartoon started playing, but he quickly changed the channel to the news to see if they'd picked up on the fight yet. they hadn't. there wasn't a peep about a variant going missing on a drug bust.

there was, however, a very enthusiastic story about the latest and greatest hero team saving civilians from a disaster.

tch. good guys get all the limelight.

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

Her day started later than most. She woke up closer to the evening, checking her phone for notifications. Usually there were reports from other heroes, and general news articles of stuff that went on during the day. Flipping the television on, Beauregard got out of bed and ran around her apartment, pulling everything together to get ready for the night ahead of her. She stuck a frozen meal in the microwave, chugged the last of her apple juice, stopped by the mirror to make sure her hair looked presentable - bed heads were never a good look - when the microwave beeped. The frozen meal of choice this afternoon was mac and cheese. It was easy enough to make, and it filled her up just enough to last for a few hours.

The news was all the same, a couple heroes here, a couple villains there. Nothing the heroes couldn’t handle without her. Attacking during broad daylight was a bold move anyhow. Beau took it upon herself to patrol the evening, preferring the night as she loved the way the city looked.

Changing out of her comfy pajamas, Beau slipped into her hero costume; a dark suit with blue accents in the stitching, a half-mask, and a hood. Nothing too flashy, she preferred comfort and durability over looks. She was a hero of the night, after all. She couldn’t be seen with the type of costume heroes wore on television. Just the thought made her chuckle to herself; a flashy red spandex suit with a lightning bolt in the middle. That was a thing of the past.

Anyhow, after suiting up and pulling on her combat boots, she was ready to take on whatever was in store for her. With the tv off and phone in her back pocket, she grabbed the keys from the counter and opened the front door.

The nights were starting to get colder, just the way Beau liked it. Nothing too cold like winter, yet nothing too hot like summer. Sweater weather was perfect, the way it felt against her costume. Double checking the door was locked, Beau hummed softly to herself as she stuck her hands in her pocket and began her usual patrol route.

The sun had already set by the time she was out, bathing the city in a new light. The streets were still bustling as big cities do, bars and clubs blasting their music a block away.

This evening proved to be a bit quieter than usual, and Beau ended up covering quite a bit of ground before businesses began shutting down, leaving only drunks and homeless lining the streets. There were always a couple fights that needed intervention, and Beau was always there to help. Some might call her lucky, being there at the right place at the right time. Though really, she just knew where to look. She grew up in this city, she knew the in’s and out’s of it. Others might call this city terrifying; Beau called it home.

Her phone began buzzing frantically from her pocket as she received a call from her employer, one of the hero organizations around the city. She was told that one of the high-class villains had been spotted around an abandoned warehouse with a bunch of lackeys and vans, presumably aiding in the transportation of illegal substances.

Now that was more like it.

Something Beau could actually help with, her adrenaline was already kicking in as she began making her way down to the warehouse.

It didn’t take long before the warehouse came into sight, an old, rusty building with broken windows, graffiti, and boarded up doors. It was the city’s half-hearted attempt to keep others away, except everyone knew about this place. It had a reputation of drug deals and the like, attracting villains like flies. It was no surprise she found herself here tonight.

Teleporting to higher ground, it was Blitz’s turn to shine, scoping out the perimeter of the building from atop nearby buildings. She noted a couple black vans, with about a dozen men walking in and out of the old loading dock.

Getting inside was fairly easy, as most of the machinery was still left over, creating enough cover to hide behind the closer she was to the group. The same group of lackeys that were filing in and out were carrying some heavy boxes, and overlooking the operation was that high-class villain she was told about.

Mirage was his name. And he was someone to look out for, alright. She’d never met him in person before, but she heard all about him. Slowly teleporting closer, she tried to formulate some sort of plan, watching their patterns and keeping an eye on the big boss, Mirage. She would deal with him last. First, the lackeys.

One by one, she teleported to the black van, covering the mouth of some lackey and teleporting to the back of the warehouse, dumping the nauseous and disoriented lackey off as she worked her way through the rest of them, trying to go unnoticed as long as possible. The lackeys strength was nothing against the disorienting feeling of teleportation. The first few guys were the easiest, until their numbers started to dwindle, and they quickly began to notice. Blitz held back this time, taking a small break to recharge her power and form a new plan. She’d taken about six guys away from the rest, grinning under her mask.

What she hadn’t taken into account was there were only five men scrambling and yelling at each other, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Found you.”

The grin was quickly wiped off her face, her body freezing up as a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind.

Blitz teleported back, towards the empty area of the warehouse. She was caught in the middle now, surrounded by Mirage smirking at her from the front, and the lackeys taking notice of her from behind.

Shit.

Mirage had been quick to catch on, already one step ahead oh her, as if he knew a hero would intervene with his work.

Shaking her head and letting out a breath, Blitz prepared herself for a fight. They were unavoidable in her line of work, as much as it was to her distaste.

Mirage made the first move, his laugh echoing against the walls of the old building as he and his other men appeared to melt out of thin air. She rushed forward, reaching out in an attempt to grab Mirage by the collar, but it was too late. Before she could react further, the warehouse itself began to fade, enveloping itself in darkness and fog, making it extremely difficult to see. Mirage was back now, taunting her from a couple yards away. Frustrated, she blindly teleported forward, only to be stopped abruptly as she crashed into some machinery at full-force. It knocked the wind out of her, stumbling back and pressing a hand to her chest. The scenery began to change again, like television static forming a new image. She was in some sort of labyrinth, sending her on a wild goose-chase of running into concrete she couldn’t see, ghosts that weren’t there, and Mirage coming in to attack her, cutting her up with a fancy dagger of his own. Closing her eyes and trying to rely on her other senses, she detected some pattern for his attacks, allowing her to get a couple solid hits in of her own with the brass knuckles she produced from her pocket. Taking a deep breath in and out, she stood still, waiting for Mirage to come in and slice skin before she grabbed his wrist, stopping him from disappearing into the darkness. Her grip on him was tight and she opened her eyes once more, teleporting him to a nearby rooftop. Mirage hadn’t stopped his flurry of attacks, his dagger slicing relentlessly at her skin as her face twisted in pain. She wanted to take him as far away from the warehouse as she could, but before she got the chance, his dagger plunged deep into her skin, causing her to let go in shock, pressing her hand to her side and coming up with blood.

Mirage bounced back, massaging his wrist and nearly retching at the nausea from suddenly appearing on the rooftop, yet he still stood, sheathing his dagger. He gave Blitz a pointed look before climbing down the fire escape, heading back towards the vans that were packed up and ready to leave.

Beau stood alone, hands shaking as she was still in somewhat of a daze herself. She couldn’t be sure this was real either, as the pain hadn’t hit her quite yet. adrenaline was still pumping, and she couldn’t be sure what had happened, finally making the descent along the fire escape herself back down to the ground. The vans were gone, leaving no trace that anyone was even here.

The lacerations ran deep along her skin, and she may have blacked out for a couple seconds here and there, yet she continued walking, hoping for a place to go. Fumbling for the phone in her pocket, the screen was severely shattered, and it was crushed from the back from making direct contact with concrete. It was a miracle she hadn’t had a concussion.

Her thoughts were not exactly coherent in the moment, as she tried to formulate what to do. She couldn’t contact anyone, and the nearest hospital was miles away. Too far to walk, though she continued forward anyway, hoping to run into something. By this time, it was a little past eight in the morning, still a little too early for things to pick up. Though the concept of time was beyond her, and she hadn’t realized how long that mission actually took her.

Nearly passing an apartment complex, she turned around as something caught her eye. She recognized the name of the apartment from somewhere in the stack of newspapers and articles she had pinned to the wall in her house. She kept tabs around this area, rarely having visited herself. Still, it was important to her.

The apartments could be called shady to some, though they weren’t half bad. It was the surrounding area that scared most people off, with the abandoned warehouse looming nearby as well as an alley were the homeless took refuge.

The address she stumbled up to matched the one she pinpointed with some research at home, though she was never certain. Her breathing was rough, skin growing pale as she lost more blood every second. She felt nauseous and her body lurched forward, bracing herself with her shoulder as she slammed into the door with a loud thud. Straightening herself up, she did a quick glance back to see if she was being followed, and inhaled sharply.

She willed her body to listen to her one last time, taking on a risk that could very well cost her life. But it didn’t hurt to try, as she had nothing else to lose.

Beau teleported to the other side of the door, collapsing to the ground as her legs gave out from underneath her. The floor was already starting to stain red, and she hoped she was right about this.

Joel was all she had left.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

"aw fuck," a soft hiss escaped joel at he gingerly pressed a towel-wrapped ice pack to his inner elbow. the area underneath the pack was blotchy and purple, the remnants of his high back at the warehouse. he had other faded bruises as well: on his thighs, his other arm, and his neck (his pals had a lot of fun with that one and joel had just agreed that he'd gotten some action). he never noticed them while on stims, but the comedown was a bitch. his body ached practically everywhere.

he had just laid down in bed, a smattering of ice packs covering his body, when a strange noise crept through the doorway of his bedroom. It wasn't loud, the faintest zap, like an arc of electricity jumping from one live wire to another, followed by a soft thud. he didn't know what to make of it. his body was seething with pain and he loathed to get up, but what if it was a package or something? Maybe his cat had knocked something off of the tv stand?

after a long moment of debate and exasperation, he sat up and sighed softly as the ice packs fell off. the wooden floor was chilly underneath his bare feet, and for some reason, he stayed quiet as he padded his way to the living room, keeping his steps light.

he entered the living room and surveyed it closely-- nothing was out of place upon first glance. he looked to the kitchen and dining room which connected to the living area, and still, nothing was out of place. he caught sight of his cat sauntering across the floor towards the entry hallway. she ignored him, but was letting out chirps and meows, her tail straight out behind her.

mildly perturbed but amused by her behavior, he made his way over to her.
"what the heck'r you looking at, payasito?" he cooed, but then he spotted the object of her interest. well-- person.

joel's mouth popped open. there was someone in his apartment, he was weak, and he didn't have his guns anywhere near him. there was someone in his apartment, and they were making a puddle of blood on the floor.

he was too stunned to speak or move for a few heartbeats, but adrenaline eventually forced him into motion. he strode forward, scared but determined, and reached out to grab the stranger by her long hair. he jerked her face toward him, and his heart began to beat out of his chest.

with his other hand, he tore off the odd phantom-of-the-opera esque mask she wore and flung it away. everything was happening so fast. why was this happening? why was beauregard faust sitting slumped against the door to his apartment? what kind of sick twist of fate put her here? his grip on her hair tightened for a brief moment before he released her, and assessed the situation. she was bleeding-- her dark suit was stained with what could only be blood in multiple places. she also had a weapon: a dagger strapped to her thigh, but joel made quick work of that, pulling the knife out and throwing it across the floor, far away from both of them.

then he left her there, dashing to the bathroom. he kept a lot of medical supplies there; he was in a dangerous line of work just like beau. he grabbed the heavy case of supplies along with his bath towel, then rushed back to her, dropping to his knees in front of her. he felt blood seeping into his sweatpants.

he couldn't find it in him to be embarrassed while he forced her suit jacket off of her in order to take stock of where she was bleeding-- she had a lot of cuts, but the worst one of them all seemed to be directly underneath her ribcage. he pushed her undershirt up and out of the way, and the sight was gruesome. blood was oozing out of the wound at intervals, and there was a lot of it. at least the wound has been a clean slice as opposed to a rip...

he dug around briefly in his supply kit before pulling out a bottle and syringe. the bottle read "transexamic acid", and joel deftly extracted some into the syringe before administering it directly to beau's wound. he then firmly pressed his messily folded bath towel against it, praying the bleeding would stop.

he looked her in the eyes for the first time, and suddenly found it hard to be furious.
"you know blood is supposed to stay in your body?"

joel was almost unsure of what to do. this kind of wound probably required a whole medical team, not a druggie with an aresenal of supplies to deal with said drug problem-- but if a known villain waltzed into a hospital with a known hero, what would happen? in addition, he would have to take her there, and she'd probably bleed out before that. he'd dealt with stab wounds before... but it was impossible to say how bad this was just by looking at it.

"hang in there, payaso..."

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

Beau couldn’t move.

The rise and fall of her chest was the only movement that came from her, signifying she was still alive.

Between that and the fact that the apartment was quiet, she was beginning to panic. Seconds dragged on like hours, and all she could do was force herself to stay conscious just a little longer, hoping something good would come out of this. She was afraid that if she closed her eyes for a moment too long, she wouldn’t wake up. Beau didn’t realize it then, but her hands were shaking, still held firmly against her side. It was all she could do now, taking a few long, ragged breaths in a futile attempt to keep the panic at bay.

Suddenly, there were noises at the end of the hall, and she lifted her gaze to see a small head peeking out curiously behind the cover of a wall. A voice followed soon after.

A voice that she recognized.

Then, cautious steps approached, her eyes trained on them as Beau’s heartbeat quickened. They stopped just inches in front of her, and she felt her hair being yanked upward, flinching instinctively at the rough gesture. Her face jerked over to stare directly into the eyes of her old friend. Even with the mask on, her wide eyes were as clear as the full moon on a cloudless night. She experienced an array of emotions all at the same time: desperation, sadness…relief. He used his other hand to violently rip her mask off, and she saw the shock clear on his face, too.

“Joel…” Beau breathed, her voice pained and small. She shrunk back as he released his grip on her hair, watching as he tossed her dagger across the room. Ironically, it had been the only part of her untouched by blood. She hated that thing, unable to bring herself to use it even when she needed it most. Yet she kept it on her anyway, just in case.

“I’m so sorry, I-” Beauregard choked out lowly, trying to explain frantically in hopes he wouldn’t turn her away. She wasn’t sure how he would react to all of this so suddenly, yet she had to try. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Knowing that she was laying so helpless at the door of his apartment hurt more than any wound. Her burden ran heavy, and to bring it upon someone else, especially someone she knew, it left her feeling guilty.

At least she wasn’t alone.

With that being said, there was still one minor problem. There was a possibility that none of this was real, and she was passed out on that rooftop, living out one of those super realistic dreams in her last moments.

“I don’t even know if this is real. I don’t even know if you’re real.”

Beau couldn’t help the panic that continued to build up inside of her. All she could focus on was her breaths quickening, and her chest tightening. Every other part of her stung, and she felt she could collapse from the inside at any second. Suddenly she was young again, running to Joel for help when she was overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do. At the time, Joel always knew what was best for her, and she hoped he did now, too.

She wasn’t aware Joel darted off for a moment, returning with a supply kit and towel. She remained slumped, her chest heaving as her hands now rested at her side, gripping the floor. She wanted so badly to teleport away, to go back to the comfort of her own apartment where she knew she was safe, except she couldn’t. She wasn’t even able to go so far as the other side of the door. She had nothing left in her as the panic slowly succumbed to exhaustion, her eyelids weighing heavy as her head began to tilt down, catching herself and jolting her head up just before her eyes closed.

She was just as exhausted mentally as she was physically, allowing everything to play out around her while she took time to focus on her senses. She could feel every little detail as Joel worked to keep her stable, listening to his witty remarks. His voice was enough to help ground her, and the corners of her lips tilted up just barely in a smirk.

“I missed you, too.”

If there was one thing Beau was good for, it was persistence.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

"who said anything about me missing you?" joel resonded curtly, but not unkindly. he only said so because he didn't know what else to say. he couldn't say that he missed her; he didn't know whether it was true or not.

they were strangers at this point. he'd seen her face on tv, on news sites, and maybe once or twice in passing, but no more than that. he was sure she'd seen his occasionally as well-- but after their falling out as teenagers, she became just another face to him. no, not just another face... she was more unfavorable.

joel had likely never felt so awkward in his life. he attempted to push past it, but it was difficult when he could feel the warmth of her blood seeping into his hands and could see her chest rise and fall shallowly. if he were any other villain, he wouldn't be doing this. he'd have shoved her out the door the moment he saw her, maybe even killed her.

but all hell be damned, he couldn't fathom letting her suffer.

"you know, a hospital would've been a better alternative. i can't x-ray you. would you say that a vital organ has been punctured?" he asked, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

"what, i can't stop by an old friend's place on the way?" she retorted lightheartedly, "i'm only kidding. my phone's crushed right now. as far as i know, my organs are fine."

joel scowled. "honored to be your very last choice," he muttered but after a couple of heartbeats he added, "i'm only kidding."

variants like beau and himself were far more sturdy than any regular human. their wounds healed faster, they had more red blood cells and even stronger bones-- but they weren't invincible. he didn't exactly trust her judgment on the state of her innards, but it wasn't like he could be any more astute.

he took the towel away from the wound and did his best to clean up the smeared and dried blood around the wound. it was still oozing steadily, but definitely less than when he'd first gotten to her. instructing her in a quiet voice, he tenaciously unwrapped a roll of gauze around her midsection, layering it on thick. if he was going to commit to caring for her, it would be one hell of a task. if she croaked, he'd be responsible for her death no matter what he chose to do-- care for her or take her somewhere.

but suddenly, he had a bright idea.

once he was satisfied with the thickness of the gauze (very, very thick), he stood up quickly and commanded, "stay here." as if she'd be able to go anywhere else.

he rushed to his room and picked up the phone, scrolling frantically through his contacts. he made the call, and waited tensely for an answer, listening to the drone of the ringback tone. it took like fifteen seconds, but a voice came through on the other end: "hey tweak. what do you want?"

joel didn't appreciate the name, but now wasn't the time to split hairs.

"i need you to come by. i've got something real serious-- it's not for me though. bring the works, okay? dunno how bad this is."

"you know house calls run you a big buck?"

"not coming outta my pocket. now get over here before the lady on my floor turns into a corpse, okay?"

"lady? ya weirdo. i'll be there." the man sighed deeply and muttered something inaudible before hanging up.

the "doctor" had never been the most pleasant person to deal with-- but he specialized in variants and severe wounds so joel couldn't think of any better alternative.

he returned to beau right after the call ended, deeply concerned about how... pale she looked. he knelt next to her, murmured a preemptive apology, and scooped her up. he tried his best not to jostle her too much as he brought her to the sofa, laying her down as gently as he possibly could.

"there's a doctor on the way. well-- "doctor" is a strong word maybe. also, you're paying him cuz' i have rent due this week." he padded over to the kitchen, plucking a water bottle out of his fridge. he settled next to the sofa, cross-legged on the floor, not minding the blood trail on the floor for the time being, and began trying to give her sips of water.

"hey. keep your eyes open. want to tell me what happened?"

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

“It’s just…been a long time.” She spoke after a minute, glancing down at the floor. Despite the demeanor she had, it was a tad strange for her, too. She used to know everything about him. His favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite movie. All she knew of him now was what she saw on tv, linking him with exploitation of caus among other various charges. Ultimately, with her having to isolate - and there was no other choice, no matter how many times it haunted her - he had every reason not to miss her.

Still, she picked her head up, deciding it wasn’t worth it to reminisce on old memories. Once she was feeling better, Beau would leave, and that would be it.

That exchange about the hospital and her organs being alright, Beau was lying. Maybe it was to make herself feel better, or for Joel not to worry as much, or maybe it was because she was delusional and couldn’t quite feel things like she was supposed to. Beau knew something was punctured. Whether the lie was obvious or not, she wanted to believe it. To believe that she was fine.

Regardless, whatever he injected into her seemed to do the job for the time being. She wasn’t sure what it was, trying not to think about the wounds or how warm and slimy the blood was, since the thought of it disgusted her more than anything.

“Hey, I came all the way from the warehouse back near Lennox. You were my first and only choice, I don’t usually come around this area.”

Wincing as he wrapped the gauze around her, she couldn’t hold back her grunts of agony. Her face contorted with pain and her body froze with tension, and as he finished she exhaled slowly, releasing some tension along with it.

Beau chuckled breathily at his command as he turned and hurried away.

“Sure, I’ll be around.”

It was the first time she got a good look into his apartment from the entryway. There wasn’t much to look at where she was, however there were piles of stuff in the next room. Including vials of liquid that reflected a neon green in the soft light, and a couple syringes strewn about. Beau had never seen caus like that in person, though she knew just how potent and deadly it was, shuddering at the thought.

Joel returned after a few minutes, and Beau was transported over to the other room, placed gently on a sofa. It was much more forgiving than resting against the hard wood of a door, and for that she thanked him quietly.

He notified her that someone would be joining them soon, and while a doctor, well - ‘doctor’ sounded nice, she couldn’t help the concern crease her features.

She downed the water he offered, grateful for something cold in her system. Everything else was burning up, as if she had jumped into a pool of lava.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Beau barely noticed that she hadn’t responded, letting herself sink into the couch. “I got a call for some activity reported at the warehouse near Lennox. A group of some guys were there, transporting loads of crates. I couldn’t tell what was in there, but I have an idea.” Her eyes fell over the caus, which was much closer now than she’d liked. “Things were going good until I was face-to-face with Mirage, and he started messing with my mind. It was a blind goose chase where his intent was to kill. Still, I can’t help but feel something was off about that whole thing. It’s not like I’ve run into him before, but he abandoned finishing me off over his precious cargo.” Beau sighed, knowing how delusional she sounded. Maybe she was wrong, but her intuition was screaming at her. If only she knew where to look for Mirage, she could try again. And this time, she would be successful.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

the fact that beau was talking and drinking was a huge relief to joel. the moment he saw her slumped against the door, blood pooled around her and head hanging kept replaying in his mind, and it made him uneasy. what she was saying, though, was a different kind of disturbing.

joel knew of mirage-- most villains probably did, especially the ones involved in the caus trade. he was an up-and-coming villain, emerging from practically out of nowhere. joel had worked with him on a couple occasions, and the only word that could aptly describe the man was simply: creepy. he was practically as out of touch with reality as his victims. somehow, he'd risen quickly through the "ranks" and was given control of his own little caus ring. it was baffling; only a few months ago, mirage had been no more than a blip on the radar.

he had to wonder why beau had chosen to go after him solo... maybe she hadn't realize how high profile he was yet. but typically, from what he'd heard, heroes didn't pick their own assignments. why she'd get assigned solo to a villain like mirage was beyond him.

"that must'a been horrible. he's a real weirdo-- we're in the same circle and all but i was never a fan. when you talk to him, he'll barely look you in the eye... so out of touch. it's odd that he didn't take the opportunity to finish you though. i've heard he's got no aversion to getting blood on his hands." joel spoke slowly, thinking carefully about what he said. mirage was a villain that left a bad taste in his mouth. definitely not because he was jealous...

"so i guess you're lucky to have made it."

beau laughed, a tense, short laugh. maybe he shouldn't be telling her about the man who nearly killed her so casually... but he couldn't think of anything to say that would repair the rift he'd so carelessly created. so they waited.

~ ~ ~

half an hour passed before a sharp, firm knock sounded from the entryway. he an beau had made some conversation, but she was clearly in a lot of pain, and joel didn't really know what to do for her besides try and keep her hydrated and occasionally check on the gauze. he'd turned the tv on at some point, and a cartoon was playing on low volume in the background.

the moment he heard the knock, joel jumped to his feet and rushed to throw open the door. there the doctor stood, hunched and ornery, his body weighed down by two full cases in his hand, and a very, very large pack on his back.

"how's it goin, tweak."

the "doctor" was an older gentleman, a retired variant villain who now spent his days in morocco and making side cash by taking care of injured villains. mostly he spent time in morocco, though.

joel had been introduced to him through one of his previous contractors-- after taking a serious beating from a team of variants, the doc had helped him mend and recover from a slew of broken bones a few years prior. since then, joel had treated the grumpy doctor as a general practitioner-- calling him about any concerns and occasionally paying him a visit if he got too banged up. regular hospitals hesitated to accept known villains, after all.

"nice to see you too, man. uh... it's not great," joel slid his fingers through his hair on the back of his neck. he looked down at the ground just beyond the threshold, to the steadily drying bloodstain. doc followed his eyes, then immediately locked onto joel, scanning him for wounds.

"you said it wasn't for you, but i half didn't believe you."

he quickly led the doctor into the living room where beau was instantly visible, her blue-tinged hair hanging off the arm of the couch.

"she has multiple wounds, but one real bad one on her side. neither of us know how bad it is, but i managed to slow the bleeding, clean it up, and gauze it," he explained, speaking rapidly as he paced across the room. the doctor thumped his equipment down on the floor near the couch and approached beau with a sense of urgency. he paused before touching her, whipping his head around to joel.

"isn't this--"

"she's hurt. i have my reasons," joel cut him off before he could finish. he'd kind of been banking on the doctor not recognizing her, but maybe that'd been a lapse in judgement.

"oh, the moral turmoil this causes me," doc said dryly, but turned back around and began to inspect her anyway. relief washed over joel, and his shoulders dropped the slightest bit. one stressor down, nine-hundred-ninety-nine to go.

doc began to poke a prod at beau, shedding her clothes although he had the decency to murmur a warning-apology. joel barely even noticed, too focused on the steadily reddening gauze around her midsection, and the smattering of cuts all over her upper body. that had to hurt like a bitch.

"you got any pain meds doc?" joel piped up, and the doctor grunted.
"i guess so. it's up to her if she wants em' though. i got a drip, some pills, some needles..." he listed methodically, speaking more to beau than him. he began to unwrap the gauze joel had carefully wrapped around her abdomen.

"i hope you got a tight-lipped housekeeper. this could get messy..."

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

Beau laughed awkwardly in response to Joel, not too fond of the fact that Mirage was in the same circle as him. It was cut short as the underside of her ribs ached, that phantom stab wound tormenting her as if it happened a second ago.

Thirty painstaking minutes dragged on, and she honestly wished she would’ve passed out to help it go faster, but as fate had it she was awake the whole time. Beau perked up at the knock on the door, craning her head to try and look back over in the direction of the door.

After a brief conversation the Doc made his way to her side, gave her a one-over, and turned to Joel.

“Isn’t this--”

“A hero? Yes,” Beau finished for him, getting the pleasantries out of the way with a small wave of her wrist. “A threat, no.”

It was as morally difficult for her as it was for him, but she would take any help she could get. So long as he didn’t try any funny business. Or steal an organ, or take a sample of her blood home with him, or something.

“I’ll be covering the expenses, so just think of me as a customer.” Beau tilted her head back to watch Joel pace around, facing back toward the Doc as he pulled out some equipment and began unwrapping the gauze. Beau pointed a thumb back at Joel as she lowered her voice, speaking directly to the old man in front of her. “And I want him checked out, too. Put it on my tab.” Whether Joel had anything beyond the noticeable bruises and the redness left behind from a needle puncture, it wouldn’t hurt to check. Even something as slight as a fracture could make a huge difference if it healed wrong, much like a broken bone. Besides, she owed him big time. This was the least she could do for now.

“How is it, Doc? Think I’ll be fine by tomorrow?” Beau forced a crooked grin as she spoke through gritted teeth. Her breaths came out in a low hiss as the Doc’s hands moved over her wounds with decades of precision and focus.

The room was silent aside from the cartoon that was playing on the television, keeping her mind preoccupied for a moment while the Doc did his thing.

“Ah, yes, pain meds would be nice. I’d prefer a drip, if it’s not too much trouble.”

The doc stepped back, rummaging through the rest of the supplies he had on hand, prepping her arm and setting up the IV stand. Getting a steady drip going, he inserted it into her arm, to which Beau made a disturbed face, trying to avoid looking at her arm. She hated when things poked and prodded at her skin, much less stabbed. As many times as she had to deal with needles and blades, she never got used to it.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly after that, allowing the drip to relax her as best it could. She needed that more than anything, her joints stiff and her eyes surrounded by dark circles.

The Doc settled into a comfortable position which was hunched over slightly, staring intently at the wound as he prepared a sterile cotton tip swab to stick in the wound. It was back out in a second, used to help measure the depth of the wound. A thick cloth was held directly underneath the opening of the wound to catch the blood, dabbing gently afterwards.

His eyebrows creased slightly, reading as fairly concerned, and he muttered something about the weapon penetrating her liver. That would explain the excess amounts of blood-loss, yet still able to function for a good amount of time. It was a clean stab indeed, just a quick in-and-out, so there was no surrounding damage to the lungs. It would take some time, but Beau would be fine.

The Doc placed one hand on her and the other on himself, pulling small bits of his own life-force to heal hers.

Beau’s wound was slowly but surely mending itself from the inside, sewing itself up naturally like magic. She tried to keep her eyes open for the duration of the procedure, but as time passed, her eyes started to close, and her body finally got that well-needed rest.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

after a very tense treatment session, doc stepped back, hands on his hips and slouching. he appeared wearier than he had when he first arrived; the price of his healing ability was steep. it was no wonder he took less and less patients. back in his glory days (joel had been told) he could drain the life force of an entire hero team and then proceed to snatch his allies practically from the grave. whether or not that was exaggerated, joel would never know-- doc had long since given up the villain life.

"that's the best i can do. well-- that's the best i care to do. this shit's gettin' old, y'know?" doc grouched, but joel knew he took pride in his work.
"she'll be good to go in a few days... probably. just tell her to keep the wound site clean, take it real easy, and take care of herself. i'll leave a bottle of painkillers, but it's gonna cost her," he chuckled; money was the only thing that was guaranteed to bring a smile to the old man's face.

he began packing his things, and joel ambled over to the couch where beau lay sleeping-- passed out?-- and surveyed her wounds. the cuts that had littered her upper body were now scabbed over, and the visible ones looked like two or three day old wounds rather than hour-old; some wounds were bandaged, and the large gash in her side was freshly wrapped and remarkably not bloody.

joel gave a low whistle, "looks good."

doc chuffed, "in what way?" he sent an odd look joel's way, and joel felt the slightest hint of heat creep into his cheeks. he didn't respond.

"tch. gimme a drink for the road?" doc asked, and joel obliged him-- he had done him a huge favor after all. he could've denied to treat her altogether and then ratted to joel's contractor...

"so. are you just not going to tell me why there's a pro hero on your sofa or..." he broke the silence as joel dug through his fridge, looking for whatever on-the-go drinks he could find.

"i mean i was hoping i didn't have to," he admitted, "you get your money, she gets her treatment."

"and what do you get?" asked doc, and joel squinted at him. his eyes darted over to beau on the couch, who seemed to still be unconscious.

"nothing, i guess. what was it you said? "oh the moral turmoil this causes me"? it's about the same thing," explained joel, thinking hard about his words. he trusted doc well enough, but he didn't know if revealing his relationship to beau would have repercussions.
"but don't go thinking i'm on her side or anything. i know what i can and can't be doing."

"hm. i guess i can understand that. if anyone asks, just say it was a weird sex thing; that always keeps em' from asking questions," doc said wisely, and joel couldn't help the laugh that burst from his throat. he tossed doc a bright orange bottle that read "sunny c" and the old man caught it deftly.

"the sugar content in this thing could kill a small animal," he deadpanned, and joel smiled.
"it has vitamins. or something. you need it."

doc left with his bottle of sunny c and a promise from joel that he'd get his cash within a few days. joel insisted on helping him carry his supplies to his truck, ignoring any protest.

when he returned to the apartment, he approached beau awkwardly and stood in the middle of his living room at a loss for what to do. doc had said it'd be better if beau didn't have to move much... did that mean she'd have to stay overnight? it was steadily approaching midday. joel admittedly didn't have anything planned for that day besides rest. the adrenaline of finding his childhood friend bleeding at his door was wearing off, and the pain of overworked muscles and sore injection sites was coming back.

joel plucked a pillow from a nearby armchair and tossed it next to the couch. painfully, he lowered himself down onto it, back resting against the sofa. he settled in to watch one of his shows and sip sunny c until beau awoke and they could figure out what to do.

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

Beau slept for the remainder of the morning, and a couple hours into the afternoon. It was the best rest she had gotten in a long time; all it took was a life-threatening injury, an old friend, and a retired doctor.

She began to shift positions, slowly waking up only to stop moving as it agitated the wound. Her eyes shot open instantly, and she pressed her hand to the new set of bandages, noticing that some of the others abrasions had already healed into scabs and some into scars. That Doc did great work, she noted. Near-death to scars and shallow wounds was not an easy task. The stab to her liver still hurt, and with a quick snatch of the painkillers beside the couch, she reached beside her to pop a couple in her mouth, cracking open a water bottle to wash them down. Nothing like another day of waking up in pain.

Her eyes landed on Joel beside her, who chose to rest against the couch rather than on an actual seat. She chuckled softly to herself, her eyes following his to the tv.

“Hey, Joel,” She greeted with a soft smile, kicking her legs around him and over the edge of the couch to allow him room on the cushions if he wanted to join her.

“Thanks for everything this morning.” It was still hard to believe she was alright after all that. She ran a hand up through her hair, taking a long breath to process it all again.

Her head finally felt clear for the first time since Mirage forced his way into it, and her expression dropped at the thought of him.

“Did the Doc check you out, too?”

Her eyes scanned his body, searching for the giant bruises from earlier, left behind from who-knows-what. It wasn’t her place to ask, just to worry.

She sat in silence for a bit, tapping her fingers lightly on the fabric of the couch. She tested the limits of her movement, slowly bending and twisting her torso at different angles, though not forceful enough to reopen the wound. It wasn’t a very wide range of movement, barely stretching the area before it ached again.

“I’m sorry again for bringing this to you. I’ll get out of your way as soon as I can, along with the money I owe.” She planned on adding in gratuity specifically for Joel and his troubles. It was again the least she could do. She’d have done the same if he paid her a visit all bloody and battered. Shoving their differences in morals aside, they were still human. Too many heroes and villains die, and for what?

Her stomach interrupted her, growling loudly. She hadn’t eaten for some time, she’d almost forgotten. She waved a quick hand in dismissal, slightly embarrassed.

“Actually, if you want, you can drop me off at my apartment or outside a nearby hospital. I’ll be fine from there.” She figured she could move alright if it was with the help of another, and she would make it to the hospital one way or another until she healed completely. She’d feel worse for holding Joel up if she stayed any longer.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

the moment he felt beau shift on the couch behind him, joel immediately shirked his weariness. he'd been nodding off for a while, head drooping and eyes slipping closed for three minute periods before the tv would draw him back awake. he'd made it through a hefty portion of his tv show over the past few hours, only getting up occasionally to get drinks and doritos. but now she was awake, and he had to wipe the orange dust off his fingers onto his dark sweatpants.

he didn't think to respond to her greeting, he was too busy being wary of their closeness (even though he'd technically initiated it). he turned to look at her and found her scanning him-- not his eyes, but his body... she asked if doc had checked him out too, and he was struck with confusion.

"what? no of course not. i'm fine, no reason for him to treat me," he dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand (a gesture which caused him a tidbit of pain in itself).

she went on to apologize for showing up at his door and... the whole thing. he didn't know if the apology was warranted. when it came to matters of life and death, anything flew-- nobody was going to shame someone for being desperate in what they believed were their final moments; certainly not joel, who had had many brushes with death. he wasn't going to accept that apology, but it also felt odd to reassure her that he held no ill will toward her for crawling to him for help.

he was supposed to hold ill will toward her for multiple reasons: she was a hero (the embodiment of everything he despised), she'd likely put many of his allies in jail (not that he had been friendly with them), and worst of all, she'd abandoned their relationship in the past. maybe joel was childish for holding a grudge for ten years; the woman on his couch was not the young teenager who'd decided she didn't want to be friends anymore.

it wasn't her fault that he'd befriended some weirdos after they stopped being friends. nor was it her place to take responsibility for the nasty habit he'd developed at a young age.

he was drawn out of his head by the sound of an audibly grumbling stomach. she was probably starving; likely hadn't eaten since long before she'd gotten stabbed many hours prior. joel's first instinct was to head to the kitchen, but her words halted him.

she wanted to be dropped off. or rather, she was offering him a chance to kick her out.

joel was sickened by the overwhelming desire to keep her there, right on his sofa.

his mouth popped open to respond. okay, tell her you'll leave her at a hospital, and that you don't care where she lives. be mean. get her out, his mind scolded him. he winced. he didn't want to say that. he was taken back to the moment he realized he'd become addicted to caus, staring down at the neon green vial with his brain kicking and screaming, telling him to break it, throw it far, far away-- of course, he didn't listen. he never ever did; his brain was the passenger and he, something else-- maybe his heart-- was the driver.

"i have food," he blurted out instead.
"i... was going to make pasta for dinner."

joel cringed at his own awkwardness, and turned to hide his face from her before planting his hands firmly on the ground and heaving himself up off the pillow.

"doc said you shouldn't move. i... don't want to get any more blood in my apartment if you happen to pop. stay there," he commanded gruffly, trying his best to leave no room for debate. he didn't want to keep her hostage, but at the same time, he was dead set on not letting her walk out the door.

"you can, uh, change the show if you want. i've seen more than enough today."

he was facing away from beau, heading toward the kitchen, but she murmured, "alright, i'll stay. just know you have to put up with me a while longer."

joel couldn't (refused) to understand why he felt relief at her words. he was often alone in the apartment, and having someone there was... nice. even if that person was technically his worst enemy.

"i put up with a lot of bullshit all the time. now, do you prefer meat sauce or marinara?"

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

Beau tried not to push the matter further, but the small shows of pain in Joel’s movements were enough to show that he hadn’t taken care of himself, either. When he spoke up about it, she shook her head.

“At least put some ice on your bruises, you can’t tough everything out. It’ll only hurt longer.” She sighed, staring at him with a faint look of worry in her eyes. It was in her nature to care about others, but if he absolutely refused, there was nothing she could do about it.

“I have food,” Joel spoke up, “I…was going to make pasta for dinner.”

Surprise took over the worry in her expression. Beau thought for sure Joel would have taken the offer to drop her off. It was difficult to accept the reality of their relationship now, as there was a lingering heaviness to the air. Most of it was her own guilt she carried with her for ten years, and the rest was a bundle of awkwardness fused with their obvious differences in morals. But to hear him offer food as an invitation to stay just a little while longer, she was thankful.

The surprise was overcome by a toothy grin at the mention of pasta. She wanted nothing more than to eat, and her mouth began to water at the thought of the savory sauce on her tongue.

“Doc said you shouldn’t move. I…don’t want to get any more blood in my apartment if you happen to pop. Stay there.”

Beau appreciated the sentiment, even if Joel hadn’t admitted it directly. She scrunched her nose at the description of her ‘popping’, shuddering at the gruesome image in her mind.

“Alright, I’ll stay. Just know you have to put up with me a while longer.” She offered a crooked smirk as Joel shuffled slowly back toward the kitchen.

“You can, uh, change the show if you want. I’ve seen more than enough today.”

“I can tell by the dark circles under your eyes.” She joked, calling out after him. In her limited amount of free time, she did the same thing. Whether she sat behind the tv or her computer, she was always watching or listening something to fill the silence. She even picked up some video games, not that she was any good at them. Still, they were fun.

“I put up with a lot of bullshit all the time. Now, do you prefer meat sauce or marinara?”

“Ha, tell me about it. I could go for some meat sauce, please!” Not even a heartbeat later, Joel had vanished into the kitchen. She opted to leave the cartoons on, as she preferred them also. They were a big part of her childhood, and most of what inspired her to be a hero.

As soon as Joel was out of sight, Beau tilted her head back, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. There was still a lot to process, and a lot going on in her mind. She had questions for him, but now wasn’t the right time. She was getting antsy just sitting here and doing nothing, it was unlike her. But for now, Beau had to focus on recovery. And the first step toward that was eating something.

The stove burners clicked on faintly, boiling some water and heating up the sauce. Meanwhile, she wrapped both arms around her stomach, leaning forward into herself. She stayed like that for a solid minute, her stomach grumbling at her furiously. She needed to take her own advice and not tough things out, but the hunger pains would go away soon.

 

[tsumu]

joel king ➳ 23 ➳ los angeles, california

joel stared down at the bubbling pot with tired eyes, uncaring of the heat caressing his face. he idly swirled the liquid, the yellow pasta sloshing along with his wooden spoon. he could hear the cartoon from the living room, the voices muffled as if they were being filtered through toy playground speakers. she hadn't changed the show. did she like it too? the fact that they could possibly have similar taste in entertainment was strange.

his timer went off, a shrill sound that told him that the pasta was probably ready. meticulously, he pulled a strainer from a bottom drawer and plopped it in the sink before pouring the pasta into it, the steam biting his hands and face as it rose off the food.

what in god's name was he doing?

he thought back to one of the last conversations he and beau had had back in their teens some seven years ago; they'd already grown into their abilities and had, for the most part, established their social circles. he'd taunted her, grouched about her, and even cursed her and her family. she hadn't left him unscathed, but the conversation had been largely hostile on his side. he'd felt his fair share of regret and embarrassment about the whole thing but now, with her in his space, it was coming back with a ferocity.

he went about cooking the sauce then; mashing meat in a pan before adding a variety of spices from his pantry. he wasn't trying to suffer in his head any longer than he had to, so he rushed the preparation a bit.

it wasn't long before he had two steaming bowls of pasta with generous helpings of meat sauce-- not his best work, but he wasn't a shoddy cook. he mulled over drink options for longer than he should've, eventually deciding on serving them both ice waters.

"beau." he called awkwardly as he set the bowls on the table. this was about to be the most awkward and/or stressful meal of his entire life, he could tell. he was going to leave the tv on so he could pretend to be interested in that when things inevitably quieted or went south.

 

[Corvus Corax]

Beauregard Faust ☼ 23 ☼ Los Angeles, California

“Be right there!” Beau called out to him, taking a long breath before she forced herself to get up. Her hand was placed on her side as she did, and although her wounds were fine, she hadn’t moved this much for quite some time. Her joints popped as she stretched out, before making her way over to the delicious-smelling food.

She sat down at the table quietly, thanked Joel for the food, and began digging in. Her eyes lit up with the first bite, and it took everything she had not to scarf it all down at once.

“Mm, this is delicious!” She complimented him between bites, her stomach finally settling. “I never have time to cook myself, but home cooked meals are the best.” Beau held up her fork as she spoke, stacked with noodles. “I practically live off of cup noodles, frozen mac and cheese, and energy drinks. The work I do balances it out, at least.” She had healthy meals thrown about every now and then of course, but most of the time she required something quick and easy.

At this point she was nearly done with her bowl, going from looking up at Joel between bites to glancing around his kitchen. She was able to see more of his apartment than just the living room, which was nice. She was getting restless just sitting there doing nothing anyway. Due to the nature of her power, she found herself constantly moving, always working off that extra energy that came with teleportation. A part of her was afraid that her power might go haywire again, and the other part of her found that to be a good way to ease her anxious mind.

“So…” Beau trailed off, finding it difficult to make conversation where it didn’t involve their work, power, or anything from their past. She tried to play it careful and choose her topic right, opting for a safer bet. “Any…plans for tomorrow?” The way she asked came out a tad uncertain, as if she regretted speaking halfway through but hated the silence more.

She could feel Joel’s stare on her, his mouth open for a heartbeat before mumbling a reply. “Um. Kinda planned to stay in…I have a couple days off so…” And waved a hand dismissively.

“Ah, a couple of rest days, sounds nice.” Beau nodded, twirling the remaining noodles around her fork. She didn’t comment on anything further, instead staring at her fork as she toyed with her food.

Eventually she did finish the remaining noodles, setting her fork down silently and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand in case there was stray sauce. She went for the glass of ice water, taking a few long sips before setting it down.

For Beau, it was still hard to believe she had the reaper’s scythe against her throat just that morning. She absentmindedly began tracing at some of the raised scars along her arms, and it was clear she had a lot on her mind. It took a few minutes longer before she sighed, addressing something that needed to be addressed eventually.

“Look, if there’s anything on your mind you want to talk about, I’m right here to listen.” In no way was she forcing it on him, but she couldn’t just sit here and take the tension. Her eyes were on his, and her hands fell back to her sides. So long as Joel was willing and ready to talk about it, she was here for him. But if he wasn’t just yet, she would understand and let it go.