Adhara ➝ "Fellow Dare(iel)": (unsent) Throwback. Almost got jumpscared seeing your contact on my notifications
Adhara ➝ "Fellow Dare(iel)": (unsent) Hey, what's up? Naya is constantly bothering me about you. She's always talking about how she doesn't know any of my friends from work except Sarah lol
Adhara ➝ "Fellow Dare(iel)": (unsent) Though I guess it's just Sarah now
Adhara ➝ "Fellow Dare(iel)": Hello, Dariel
Adhara ➝ "Dariel": We're doing well, thanks. How are you?
Adhara ➝ "Dariel": dsghdg
Adhara ➝ "Dariel": 79ds
Adhara ➝ "Dariel": Sorry, that wasn't me. Naya is trying to take the phone, she saw the screen.
riel ➝ "adhara a.": oh. wow. hi
riel ➝ "adhara a.": sorry, it's so good to hear from you
riel ➝ "adhara a.": i've been okay, i guess
riel ➝ "adhara a.": hi naya :)
riel ➝ "adhara a.": i was just looking at my calendar the other day and i remembered her birthday's coming up so soon, and i guess i just wanted to...
riel ➝ "adhara a.": say hello. and wish her a happy early birthday
who: riel and adhara @herosillusion
where: via texting
when: early june, 2022
riel ➝ "adhara a.": hey [deleted]
riel ➝ "adhara a.": hi [deleted]
riel ➝ "adhara a.": what's [deleted]
riel ➝ "adhara a.": hi, i was thinking about you and naya
riel ➝ "adhara a.": and just wanted to say hello
and missions aside, zaya had seen them as a person. they'd both been patient with one another in that way – for riel, the quiet understanding that neither of them would ever have to say anything at all allowed them a comfort that they rarely found with anyone else. as much as it felt like an excuse, it made it that much more difficult to tell her because riel had cared; because at the end of the day, they didn't know if it would make things worse, if it was inevitable that they would leave.
{ extract from thread @desvus & @waywardlegacies }
There Riel was in the fucking flesh and bone. Instead of empty spaces and tainted memories. Right in front of Zaya, so easy for her to grab and knock some sense into them. To scream, unleashing the storm that prickled beneath her skin. To pled for an apology that she never received. Just anything. Any sort of exchange with the traitorous liar.
Yet the silence haunted them both.
How strange it was for her to see their face, furrowed with fear and she could have sworn that she could see sweat trickle down their face. Her hear hammered in her chest like a war drum ready for a battle march. Everything in her preparing for a battle of sharp tongues and witty retorts. Like Zaya could ever be that calm.
Still, it felt strange to face them. She had grown so use to only see the back of their head, the same sight that had been burned into her memory the day that Riel had walked away, not looking back with no hesitation. Not even sparing a single thought or breath on her. That ache awaken in her. Her back still burns from where betrayal had buried its blade, a wound now even a Riel could ever hope to mend. Flesh could always heal but the trust she had in them was severed, unable to come back. That scar ran too deep. It was the one she knew she would be haunted by until her final breath.
Oh how tragic and how cruel it was to mourn someone who still drew breath. They still existed a ghost roaming bustling city streets, daring to never cross paths best for themselves. Best of her sake. Yet that fatal day came to day, where they final crossed paths once again.
And there Riel is, their words came out like the baffling fool they are. Weak. Like the person that they proven themselves to be. A fucking Judas that she allowed herself to get close too. The one who made her look not only as a fool but feel like one too.
But the city winds blow between, cutting sharply through this hollowed reunion. And everything gets loud. Louder. Louder and Louder. Even when she is locked on to them, everything and everyone else comes into view. And fuck. Spectators were forming, crowds were gathering and phones were being held up, capturing every fucking moment in this glorious reunion. Fuck.
Zaya looks up.
And that's she hates the most. Even with the raging war between them, this fury, this silence, she could read them with a single look. A quiet pleasantry not afforded to anyone else. Even now, in the absents of words to everybody else, they understood each too well. Like the good old days when they stood as equals. Stood as a team. Clenching her fists tightly. Her eyes narrowed locked on to Riel's with a single nod to sign fine.
Zaya doesn't acknowledge the crowd. Ignoring them fully. Her sight locked with Riel's still. Swallowing her pride, staking the first few strides further.
For once. Being the bigger person as she closes the distance between them. Bridging the gap that had formed between them.
the thing is, riel would fully accept it if zaya turns around right here and refuses to engage with them altogether. a part of them would also accept it if zaya were to scream in their face, tell them exactly what she must think of them, but they know that they're both too much in the public eye for that to happen. riel wishes that they could be angry about it, rather than painfully accepting of it — they are frustrated, but it's not exactly at zaya. the frustration is their inability to explain to her why they had to leave, the grief that they very tangibly feel at the fact that they've lost someone that they felt like saw them for who they are. the uncertainty of it all.
riel misses her, at the end of the day.
so it comes as a bit of a surprise when zaya nods, and decides to steps towards them. for a moment, it almost doesn't matter if that's because she just doesn't want to attract any more attention than they already have, or because there's an actual possibility that they might actually get to speak, after years of something that'd felt like misunderstandings.
riel's eyes float over to the crowd, watching them slowly circle the two of them, holding their breaths now in case either of them say anything of substance. riel hates cameras in moments like this — there are many things that they would actually like to be able to say to zaya, except it's going to be permanently recorded and most likely posted somewhere. and given that zaya'd already ended up on the tabloids not that long ago, riel has an inkling that this might not be very helpful.
their steps towards zaya are not as bold, or as certain. but riel does take a few steps towards her, too, if only to hopefully show her that they're not backing away from this, or taking the coward's way out, again. when they're standing close enough to each other, riel looks right at her, and tries again.
"i'm sorry," they manage, and there's a lot of missing parts that should follow that, but they can't say it all here. i'm sorry that i left. i'm sorry that i couldn't tell you. i'm sorry that i still can't. i'm sorry that i let our friendship die.
"i know you were probably heading somewhere, but if you weren't," riel starts, trying to think of all the places in the walkable area that they might be able to head to, somewhere that's just slightly more private than this big, open space in the middle of manhattan – if zaya even wants to give them the time of day, anyway.
"— there's a coffee shop around the corner." it's small enough, whch could limit the number of listening ears. it's not entirely safe, or free from the public, but riel imagines they're both used to this enough that they might be able to work around it. "or my office is...also just here," they offer. and it's also not a perfect solution by any means, but they suppose it's something.
"we don't have to," and it's the last thing riel adds, giving her an out. "it's good to see you regardless."
⌜ " How did we get here, when I used to know you so well? " ⌟
— post status: ⌜ PRIVATE starter for @desvus ⌟
— location: ⌜ the soma medical center in manhattan ⌟
—timeframe: ⌜ early afternoon ⌟
— content warning: ⌜ hospitalization of children ⌟
In the Soma Medical Center’s pediatric wing’s playroom Ajay crawls through a colorful transparent tunnel to chase after a gaggle of children who laugh and squeal as he struggles to get his body through the child-sized passage. He lightly pounds on the walls of the tunnel and growls as he finally manages to figure out how to scoot closer to them. The child immediately in front of him shrieks gleefully and tries to scurry away, their large reptilian tail swings wildly and Ajay bumps their head on the top of the shaft to avoid getting poked in the eye. He can tell the kids at the front of the line have exited the tunnel from the sound of their shoes slapping on the tile floor.
The girl ahead of him struggles to exit, finding difficulty to maneuver her limbs from a crawling position to a standing one. Ajay wait patiently behind her but makes sure to shake and smack the tunnel so she can’t tell how close he is. Once she manages to untangled herself and exit the passage he waits a few second before rushing after her and scooping her up in his arms. She yells again in delight and a chorus of voices join her as he pretends to take bites of her shoulder and arm while making exaggerated chomping noises. The girl’s giggles shake her body causing some of the keratin to dig into his skin; he doesn’t react, swinging her in a wide arc through the air until she’s breathless from laughing.
“ You’re a zombie now too! You gotta help me get the others. ” He exclaims loudly before setting her down. She nods and giggles before rushing forward towards mimicking the same loud “zombie monster” noises he had been making earlier. Ajay beams at her, smiling so widely there is a persistently ebbing ache in his cheeks.
While he normally hated when people compare his power to the fictional undead, it was different with kids. They didn’t call him “zombie” to dehumanize him like other adults did—the unsettling aspects of his permutation were lost on them, they just thought he was cool. He still tried to avoid the association as much as possible (if there was one thing grateful to Scotty for, it was the Phoenix branding)—but the children at Soma’s pediatric wing were a special case.
Sure they also drawn to him because of his work as a steward, but they also unfortunately understood being treated like they were inhuman due to their permutations. He’d happily be referred to and act like a zombie if it meant these kids saw themselves in him, if it gave them hope for the future.
His reverie is disturbed by the rapid clicking of a camera shutter and his smile wavers as he forces down a scowl. He hated that this visit had to be a photo-op, but it wasn’t like he could just randomly show up at the medical center whenever he wanted. The Riel of it all also made things difficult.
One of the children, a young boy with raptorial forelegs tugs at his hand, “ Are you done playing? Did you get tired? Mommy says you should sit down when you got tired. ”
Ajay smiles at him and shakes his head, he crouches so he’s at eye level with the boy and is about to respond when the PA assigned to him that day calls out his stage name. “ Mx. Phoenix? Scotty called, they need you back at HQ. ”
Some of the older kids interject in disappointment followed by a refrain for the younger ones who take a minute to understand what’s being said. Ajay is quickly mobbed the group who chaotically take turns giving him hugs between pleads for him to come back to play soon. He knows his next visit will have to be carefully bargained for but he promises to return shortly nonetheless.
Once he manages to extract himself from dozens of little hands and claws, he walks over to the PA, hoping for a brief but they only smile apologetically and tell him Scotty asked them to stay behind with the photographer. Ajay rolls his eyes but makes sure to pat them on the shoulder and thank both them and the photographer for their hard work.
He turns when he gets to the door to give the kids one final series of farewells that are returned in earnest; their sing-song goodbyes following him as he makes his way down the hallway to the elevator.
Ajay pulls out his work phone from his pocket, opens up the messaging app, and scrolls down to Scotty’s contact. Annoyingly there’s no recent messages from the older man. Grumbling, he presses the call button for the elevator and opens up his email. Noting. Of course.
The elevator dings and Ajay steps forward without looking up, busy drafting a wall of text he intends to send his manager. The doors close behind him and he turns to take a step in the direct of where he remembered the elevator’s button panel being. He hits send and finally looks up to press the button to the main lobby and spots a achingly familiar face on the reflective metal doors of the elevator.
Riel.
There’s a rushing sound in his ears and he feels as his heart begin to pound. He quickly averts his gaze by looking down, his body feels like it was on fire, he felt sick, he feels the telltale prickle of tears gathering in his eyes—God fucking damn it, Scotty.
Sighing heavily, they finally look up at their ex-fiancé. “ What are you doing here? ”
all the chatter aside, there is something deeply fulfilling about being at SOMA. sure, there's documentation that has to be completed after jobs now, there's less recognition or public appreciation in comparison to when they were at valerian, and it's certainly taxing at times, but there is a sense of pride that exists all the time now as compared to sometimes. they also like that on days they're not having to go out and help physically, there's still things to do — like today, they get to visit the pediatric wing at the center before heading back to their office.
their visit had been really quite lovely, too. there's not much they can actually offer in terms of healing, with children who are in these wings, but they like to go anyway, just in case. if not healing, then riel takes a bit of time to read stories with the kids or listen to them tell stories about their lives, and in return, riel tells them about nova or a funny dream they had recently. there's even a few that's starting learning their name, and remembers things about them, and it's difficult, whenever they do have to leave.
but paperwork awaits, and it is eventually time for them to go back to their own office. riel steps into the elevator, and lets the door close, leaning back against the back wall of the lift.
though they might not, at first glance, seem like someone who would get along with kids, riel always has, in their own way. sure, they're not exactly giving kids piggyback rides and swinging them around, but they're patient with them, likes hearing what they have to say. likely, they know, it's training with their niece and nephew from the moment the twins were born, but they also have considered having kids for themselves, too.
once upon a time, that is. when all of it seemed more possible.
now, they get to go back home to their cat — who, of course, riel loves more than life itself — but they can't even start thinking about what else might be next for them. they're sure that in another lifetime, or some alternate universe that exists out there, they might have adopted children of their own, in a three-bedroom house with a garden and a couple of pets, with —
riel's jaw tightens and they pull out their phone, quite unwilling to let their mind wander down that path. they scroll through alterego numbly for a few moments when they hear the elevator stop again with a soft ding! riel looks up without much thought, readying themselves to make small talk with whoever is about to step inside.
it's instant panic, when they see him. there must've been an email about this — why hadn't anyone told them about this? and what is ajay doing here, anyway — no, it makes for ajay to be here; they're only one of the most beloved of the valerians and the kids must adore it whenever the heroes visit — and for a split second, they still think they have time to get off the elevator like nothing has happened, but the doors are already closing and all of it happens too quickly. the moment of recognition, the way their heart completely drops to the pit of their stomach, and when they think that it can't get any worse than this, they notice the way ajay avoids looking at them at first.
it takes riel a moment to answer, when they hear their voice for the first time in what feels like a million years.
"i work here," riel doesn't mean it to sound so matter-of-factly, nor do they mean to sound harsh, and they desperately hope that ajay doesn't think badly of them because at the end of the day, they are just caught off-guard more than anything else.
"i'm sorry, i didn't know you were..."
they know they don't have to apologize, but they want to. knows it will never be enough to make up for the way they left things, left him, left valerian, but they try anyway. a small breath in, and riel looks over at ajay again, eyes scanning the other like they're so used to doing, almost subconsciously, instinctively, looking for any signs of cuts, scars, wounds, on them. but — the thing is, he doesn't need them like that. not anymore.
"i, um...was. i come here, sometimes, to help with some of the kids. riel tries again, a sorry attempt at softening the situation. "i probably should've picked a better day."
fuck. even that doesn't sound quite right after it leaves them; it dawns on them that they don't know how to be around ajay anymore. there was a time when the would know, even before they officially got together, when ajay needed them, how ajay needed them, and they'd be there right behind the other, as their partner, and eventually, something more. but riel doesn't know what to do with these versions of them as much.
they watch the number on the screen change as the elevator descends, and very briefly ( irrationally ) , riel considers hitting the emergency brake. they don't, of course, because that would likely lead to another set of problems that they don't know how they'll recover from. so they do the next best impulsive thing that they can in the moment.
"do you have time?" and yes, their heart has jumped back up and now it's in their ears, but it feels right, in a very strange way. "my office isn't far from here."
May has been a month to say the least for Eeshika. Headlines were sharper at following her, looking into her love life deeper than before. Things were now going beyond AlterEgo, to following her around to get any scope that they could. Especially after the photo with Hikaru. Her cheeks flush a bit catching herself thinking about it. Thinking about him. Even though she knows she has to push past it. Forget abut the way her stomach fluttered when she thought back to those moments on the staircase. To the messages they exchanged made her nervous and giddy all at once.
At least she managed to make those headlines move on for him, with the accidental kiss with Anna. A connection that bought her a little bit more courage than she had before. As she reminded her the control she holds over her own narrative. Even if she holds onto that sentiment for a little while, like a potions boost effects that could fade faster than expected.
Spring was slowly slipping into Summer, and Eeshika was not going to hide herself away between work and her apartment. The early half of that month had been that routine. No longer! She wasn't going to deny herself some sunshine. Even if it meant that the press was hot on her for some gossip about her non-existent love life. At least she was keeping up the story that she told herself, make everyone love her. One way or another.
Walking around enjoy her bit of piece with her sunglasses covering her wide eyes. Her hair in a normal pony tail as she rocked some workout wear, as it was too warm to adhere to her hoodie for covering up. She felt someone approach her. She keeps her smile soft, as fans were never the issue, it was the ones with the cameras and questions that were. They stop right in front of her and ask her straight up.
Siren tilts her head to the side, pressing a finger to her lips nodding, "Yeah I'm."
Laughing to herself. What next with the random encounters first a crush, then a kiss, what possibly next an engagement proposal? Wait...more liked a called off engagement! Wait...didn't they call it off with Phoenix? Eeshika was someone who was chronically online, following all the shipping stories that she could even poking fun at the ones that was
What next with the random encounters? First a crush, then a kiss, what possibly next an engagement proposal? Wait...talk about more like calling one off!? Her eyes widen a little bit as they are asking about her, when she wants to ask about them. Eeshika was someone chronically online, especially on the shipping and romancing side of online, not only for her own branding and teasing but she was honestly and truly invested in seeing other people's love stories come to life.
One love story that she adored was the one forming between Phoenix and Stitch. One that she honestly thought would last the ages. One that kinda made her think that love could exist in the world that they work in. But then it ended, Stitch left and now the rumors were wracking up between Phoenix and Flare. A slight guilty ship of hers, as of recent. Though, she knew well enough from experience, that what you read online was only partly the truth. As much as she may "ship" something, there were still real people that laid beneath it all. Her ships were always in good fun. But when it came to the reality of the world...she knew that was a distant world for sure.
Sliding her sunglasses off, stepping a little bit closer to them, blinking a few times herself. "Wait...sorry but correct me if I am wrong and I am completely may be you're...you're Stitch aren't you?!" her voice she keeps low like she is keeping a secret,"Or should I be calling you something else now all things considering?"
riel is not often starstruck. for one, they are technically surrounded by stars and have been for some time. some might have even considered them to be one; sonny certainly treats them like one, anyway. but right now, as they're getting the confirmation that the person standing in front of them is the one and only, riel can only really describe the experience as being starstruck. and they're not going to ask for a photo or an autograph because that's tacky and they're in public and they know what it feels like to get caught off guard in this way, but the desire is definitely there.
but what comes as more of a shock is when siren recognizes them back, big, curious eyes looking right at them, now standing much closer than they would've ever imagined they'd be to someone like her.
you're stitch, aren't you?
many thoughts go through their mind at once. is she a fan? does she follow much of valerian? how much does she know about valerian? how much did she know about them in general — was she familiar with their work, or was she someone who followed all of the news and the gossip around them while they were still with valerian? the last thought horrifies them them most, thinking back to all of the stories about their engagement, which ultimately ended with a joint statement from them and ajay announcing the end of said engagement.
and it all makes them sweat. what does she think of them, if she does know all of these things? are they a traitor, are they someone who left valerian because of a broken heart, are they a cheater or opportunist as some have speculated in the past, or are they someone who couldn't take all of the pressure and folded? but they look into siren's eyes and there's no judgement there, at least none that they can see right now. for some reason, riel finds this comforting; enough to let their guards down for a moment.
"i — yes. that's..." riel begins, not very gracefully at all, looking to the side just a bit to make sure that they're not attracting too much attention at once. "stitch is — great. or riel. which is...my name."
well, that was eloquent. riel can already see themselves lying in their bed at night and replaying this over and over again in their head.
"i've been following you since like...the very beginning," they try, also being mindful to keep their voice as low as possible, though they're also starting to notice small glances their way, either of confusion or possible recognition. "i really do like your work. i didn't mean to bother you on your day off or anything, i'm sorry. i hate it when people do this, so i don't know what's come over me."
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ who: public open starter!
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ place: undisclosed | the bronx, nkc | tourniquet show
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ time: 05.28.2022 – late night | post skate-con
⚠︎ multiple content warnings ⚠︎
tw: hella blood, gore, s/h implied (not trauma or mental illness related/no self mutilating motivations involved).
After a month of dealing with colleagues, management, and the general public giving her shit, it was finally time for Trix to shine in all her glory, on no one’s terms but her own. Between her remarks about Under Armour and her cameo in Atlas’ unboxing video, the opinionated commentary and unwarranted gossip has been incessant. Although she isn’t exactly new to being at the center of a controversy, the situation was suffocating and constraining – two things she despises. There’s no reason she should have to justify her reasons for vocalizing her distaste toward some ridiculous campaign or explain her associations with anyone, simply because of a difference in ranking. Being harassed for publicly interacting with someone of a “lesser ranking” is especially infuriating, because to her, the entire system is arbitrary. Spending time with her best friend recently was therapeutic in its own way, but this event would give her the opportunity to channel the intense rage and frustration that’s been boiling her blood for weeks.
For this solo venture, she decided on an FMX show. She had two very tall, narrow ramps trimmed with red lights brought in on trucks the night before by a few folks she paid off to keep her business under wraps when she needed a hand doing her dirty work. The city was enormous, and there were plenty of places where one could stealthily host all sorts of underground gatherings. Skate-Con was a perfect diversion to keep unwanted prying eyes away and allow her to truly savor the rush of exhibiting her feared and revered powers. A crowd of almost 250 people had formed surrounding the contraptions, and they were growing restless with anticipation – as was Trix. Emerging from the shadows, she darts up to the very top of one of the ramps, turning toward the onlookers and raising her hands in the air with a shout of acknowledgement. One of her favorite things about these performances is that they don’t require many words or any prefaces – anyone who made it this far knew what they were getting into.
She notices someone particularly familiar standing slightly apart from the crowd and brushes it off, assuming they were just a fellow hero* who wanted a night off from all the buttoned-up, formal events. Squeezing her right hand into a tight fist, the thorns from her rose ring puncture the circumference of her finger. The immediate rush of strength, speed, and energy following the flow of seeping dark liquid indicates the activation of her powers. She swipes two bloody fingers across both sides of her face to create double streaks underneath her smudged jet black liner, living up to her theatrical reputation. She backflips off the structure and sticks the landing with her feet directly onto her custom made, deep wine Ducati 1200, lights glowing red in perfect contrast with the black night sky. She doesn’t bother with much equipment other than her thick leather jacket, The Pretty Reckless band tee, plaid pants and combat boots – not like she needs protection, given her exceptional agility and eyesight, especially when her powers are activated. So long as she doesn’t lose too much blood, everything would be fine. Besides, the risk is a part of the thrill, and there was usually a healer somewhere amongst the sea of people at her events.
After doing 360° burnouts on the ground, she revs the engine and kicks the bike into full speed. She charges the motorcycle up the ramp, performing a triple backflip in the air before landing sturdily at the top of the next one. Reaching the ground, she pops the bike onto its back wheel, spinning in circles with one leg raised perfectly vertical behind her. Her choppy dark hair whips around her face, adrenaline coursing through her veins as blood seeps between her fingers from the activation point on her right hand. She stands upright, grinning and leaning back to look at the sky with her arms spread wide open at her sides. These are the nights she lives for and the moments that make all of the hero shit worthwhile. She barely pays attention to her roaring onlookers, vainly losing herself in the thrill of her own invulnerability.
Placing her bloody hand back on the clutch and squeezing, she does some more ground tricks before racing back up to the ramp at full speed for her extreme final stunt. Once airborne, she lifts her entire body off of the bike and flips forward at a seemingly impossible speed before landing back on the bike and regaining control of it just in time to stick the landing. It was her first time performing the trick, and the rush it gave her was indescribable. She screeches the motorcycle to a halt at the base of the ramp and nudges the kickstand with her foot, standing on the seat and pumping her bloody fist into the air. Feeding into the rambunctious, chaotic energy and loud cheering surrounding her, she climbs back to the top of the ramp and freefalls into the crowd backwards. Trix knew that all of the people who chose to come to these private events she held would catch her. And they did, every time.
Once they’ve surfed her all the way to the back of the crowd, they rotate her so that she can jump down and land perfectly on her feet. Thankfully, she ended the performance with enough time to not suffer too much blood loss, and closes the activation point by loosening her thorned ring slightly and sucking her finger.
"You all look beautiful tonight! I love you guys!" she shouts at the undying, pumped up crowd. “If you want to stick around, head into the warehouse for the open bar!” Chattering excitedly, they all begin to disperse, with most of them taking her up on her offer and heading inside to continue the night. Sighing deeply and basking in the moonlight, she is just about to pull out a cigarette when she meets the eyes of the person she noticed standing off to the side of the crowd at the start of the show and pauses. “Oh. It’s you. Thanks for coming,” she says with a slightly unhinged smile, her blood still hot with adrenaline. “Smoke?”
this isn't normally riel's type of event. generally, they're more prone to sneaking into a jazz bar, catching a late-night movie at a small theater, or even the occasional art show. something quiet, something low-key, something without hundreds of people around them. but that's not to say that they're not enjoying whatever is happening here — it's high energy, high adrenaline, and the excitement in the air is so palpable that it's almost contagious. they can't blame them; trix does put on an amazing show, and they do want to be here to support her.
they're doing their best to blend into the crowd. whereas normally, they would've opted for a button up and black pants, they're sporting a more casual t-shirt, grey jeans, fake glasses, and a hat to stay hidden. still, there's a moment where riel thinks they might've made brief eye contact with trix, and wonder if they still look a little too recognizable. but no one is paying them any attention, because all eyes are on trix and they're staying many steps away from the crowd.
on the ducati, she looks so free, riel thinks. is that what they'd always been drawn to? this feeling of recklessness, the impulsivity of it all? their therapist would probably say yes, dariel, sometimes we tend to crave what we don't have, and riel would push back and tell him that that's never really gotten them anywhere.
quietly, they watch the display of her power. blood shouldn't make them uneasy by now, but it still does. they can't quite figure out if it's because it's blood, or because it reminds them of someone they refuse to name in their head. why do you think you keep making the same choices, riel?
shut up, they reply in their head. whatever is going between them is something that stems more from convenience, and friendship ( they think? ), anyway, so can they even really say this is another choice they're making?
regardless, the silver lining is that beatrix is good at controlling her powers, and they know that. it's obvious that it genuinely empowers her, and they see the glint in her eyes as she practically flies across the stage. they envy it, they adore it, they find solace in trix's joy for life. and all of their feelings aside, it is quite a sight.
she falls, the crowd goes wild, and riel can't help but laugh from the back, clapping along as they watch the crowd surf her about, the cheers only slightly fading away as she ends the show and guides the crowd to the open bar. adrenaline and an open bar doesn't sound like the best idea to riel, but a part of the is almost tempted to follow along and see what happens.
before they can really make any real decision, they catch beatrix's eyes and offer a small wave, taking slow steps towards her. riel's impressed that she's recognized them at all, but then again, they were never going to miss this. especially if they might be needed. at the offer, riel manages a chuckle and shakes their head.
"can't. i'm actually quitting this time." they share, "but go ahead. i just figure i can't exactly be in the healthcare business if i get caught smoking."
in their head, they run through a few different compliments. good job sounds too simple, you killed it sounds juvenile, and i really loved watching you but it made me nervous every time you made a jump sounds ... wrong. riel ends up not saying anything at all. instead, they let their gaze shift down to trix's hands, and a soft sigh leaves them.
Friendship was an alliance she rarely allowed herself to forge.
And Dariel Mejia was fucking proof of that.
Her former A Rank coworker, the Judas of Valerian, had sold themselves out for Soma Enterprises, like it had had meant nothing at all. It was just...how fucking easily they had done it. They sold themselves away. Like everything that they had been through had meant nothing. That was the one part Zaya had kept replaying in her head. The casualness of it all. How easily they had walked away without even looking back.
Walking away seemed what Riel fucking did best after all.
They used to move like a system built on instinct: never a wasted motion, no questions, only results. In the field, she'd be the one to break things down to nothing as her hands were made to hurt, to finish what others hesitated to start. They came after, quiet and precise, pulling people back together with steady hands that were made to help. Violence and mercy, working side by side, like it was always meant to be that way. Until Stitch decided it wasn't.
The memory alone made her jaw tighten. Maybe that's why the anger felt so personal. It wasn't about them leaving. People left all the time. Names that didn't matter to her. Ones that were very below her. But that...it was just...how fucking easily they had done it. Like loyalty only mattered until something shiner appeared.
Right now the city lights blurring together and frustration burning through her veins as all those old feelings were clawing their way back to the surface. When her gaze landed on them directly down the street, fate was cruel enough to place them directly in her path. Something deep insider her snapped. The noise of the bustling city faded. The ranging anger became cold.
As vast and bustling as Manhattan was, it didn't help that Valerian Universal Towers and SOMA Pharmaceutical still felt closer than she thought. Too big to matter, until it just wasn't. But here they were now, closer than they had been since the two had last spoken. Since then, no conversations were had. Not a word. She allowed the silence between them speak volumes.
When reality came to light about Stitch leaving Valerian, her team made sure to keep Flare at a distance. It wasn't an option rather enforced. Everyone knew the spark she could become when she was angry. Anyone who knew her would recognize the dangers instantly. No one was ready for that hell break loose.
As the story broke out, it seemed to be everywhere from whispers in Valerian, to trending stories on AlterEgo and headlines on every gossip site. The worlds eyes turning towards the people left behind in the wake of Stitch leaving, watching to see how everyone would react. All for a fucking angle of the story. Largely becoming part of the headlines as their reactions were picked up in real time from each step, glance or pause under scrutiny. And Flare's was the one of the first that they all looked at.
Zaya gave them nothing. Not a single thing. No reaction they could package or exploit. No emotion that they could rely. Just stillness and silence. It was the kind of silence that didn't read as emptiness but restraint. A quiet explosion feasting inside her that she she contained tightly from indistinguishable calm.
But right now, seeing Riel, right in front of her for the first time since it all came out, her control and calm were very fucking thin. Her breathing stayed steady on the surface, yet it was shallow like there wasn't quite enough air. Her calm didn't vanish as it only tighten. Each second she looked at them something tried to surface: moments of trust, balance and partnership then a betrayal, broken and silence.
Pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth as if she could physically pin everything in place if she held on tight enough. Shoulders still, eyes locked. Trying. Her fingers curled into her palms, nails digging into her skin. Still, it wasn't enough to stop the pressure that was building up inside her with the ribs.
But it wasn't just down to this single moment, everything was feeling heavy. The stupid bullshit headline with Phoenix and how the world was looking at her finely again. Her glories being defined by someone else. That other's made her great. Yet all this bullshit press and judgement. That's what breaks her more.
And now Riel was here. They'd be the one who would take it. For the silence was going to break.
The crowd seemed to part around her without realising why. And that is when their eyes met. "You!" The words leave her lips. Not as a greeting nor a question but a warning.
riel still remembers the day they received the email from SOMA. it'd been written vaguely, no real context other than a call for a meeting, but it was certainly enough to intrigue them. and although they'd made an intentional choice not to share any more than necessary about their decision to leave other than 'SOMA offered me a good contract,' there's always a part of them that wonders if they should've at least been more honest about what led them there — at least to their friends.
then again, would anyone have truly understood their disillusionment with valerian? that they didn't actually want to keep running into ajay after all that had happened? or would they have chalked it off as both work hazards and called them a traitor anyway?
so yes — their tight-lipped departure might have been confusing to some, and while riel doesn't regret what they did, they do think about what they've left behind.
zaya had been someone that riel grew to be . . . rather fond of. she'd intimidated them like no other at first, of course, but the more they worked together, and the more riel grew to respect them and admire them. zaya was everything they weren't, and everything they, in all honesty, wanted to be. fearless, effortless, brave in all the right ways. in turn, they had been not far behind on many of their missions together — where flare paved the way, stitch would follow, opposites working in perfect harmony.
and missions aside, zaya had seen them as a person. they'd both been patient with one another in that way – for riel, the quiet understanding that neither of them would ever have to say anything at all allowed them a comfort that they rarely found with anyone else. as much as it felt like an excuse, it made it that much more difficult to tell her because riel had cared; because at the end of the day, they didn't know if it would make things worse, if it was inevitable that they would leave.
looking back, riel imagines they could've handled things differently. pulled zaya aside just to give her a head's up of what was coming, because regardless of her feelings about it, at least it would've allowed her to prepare for all the media storm that followed.
it's difficult to admit it to themselves, but it'd been the coward's way out.
— blip!
their wireless headphones announce their temporary death, and riel sighs. why hadn't they remembered to charge them last night again? they pull them out of their ears and place them back into their case as they continue to walk towards the headquarters, down the more scenic route they decided to take today.
when they look up, riel immediately regrets all of the choices they've made today.
they're not quite sure what happens first — if their eyes meet, or if zaya's voice echoes through the city. they're certain her voice can't be that loud, but in that moment, it's like everything around them falls completely silent. they can hear their own breathing; they're almost sure they can hear zaya's breathing, despite the fact that it's physically impossible.
"look, i can — " they begin, weakly.
then, the voices return. whispers in the crowd, rustling of people moving and coming closer. riel is fairly sure they hear someone call out 'stitch!'
riel attempts to meet zaya's eyes again, and shakes their head. we can't do this here.
who: riel and siren (eeshika) @waywardlegacies
where: brooklyn, nkc
when: may 22nd, 2022
they're aware that a wide-rimmed baseball hat and sunglasses are weak attempts at disguising themselves, but a part of them hopes that it will make a difference, especially given how long they've been out of the spotlight for. sure, their work as a first responder doesn't exempt them from being in the public eye, but this feels vastly different from what they'd experienced with valerian. sometimes, riel wonders if people — especially those who are quick to label them as a traitor — really understand what it's like to be on the other side. to have to watch what you say, what you do; to have your best moments and the worst picked apart by the public.
all of that to say — they don't regret it. but it does feel lonely at times, toeing the line of wanting to be seen and pretending not to care at all. nova, their cat, does her very best to keep them company, they think, which is really more than they can hope for.
walks like these help, too, of course. while they're actively meeting strangers at the park, it does help to be back in their hometown, somewhat surrounded by people, just to gain some sense of normalcy again. it also helps that they've got their big headphones on, their favorite AxiaL track accompanying them.
it's a lesser known fact, they're fairly sure, that they're actually a bit of a fan. they'd always liked watching them on astronomical boys & girls, but more than that, it's probably because they were often on repeat during their rather terrible, rather public breakup a few years back, and they hold them with a different sense of fondness ever since then.
riel is quite content to continue their walk to the beat of the song, when their eyes land on someone strangely familiar. it's not someone they know – not really, and they squint their eyes to try to figure out where they might've seen the other before. then, it hits them like a ton of bricks.
there's no way. it would be such an odd coincidence, but they suppose stranger things have happened. and though normally, riel wouldn't ever be the one to first strike up a conversation with a possible stranger, it's like their feet move on their accord until they stop right in front of the said stranger.
"i'm so sorry, i swear i usually never do this, but you're not...?"
setting: 2nd avenue, manhattan, new everwick city at the manhattan chamber of commerce “shop small biz” street fair
timeframe: may 14, 2022, afternoon
summary: “benchmark,” a reference point used to measure performance and identify needed improvements. or, what dariel brings to the table at soma.
content warnings: classicism, elitism, strong language, sonny’s bad vibes 101!!
“You’re gonna fucking love them.” Sonny says it like he’s unveiling a new product line, palms out, then claps once — sharp, performative, like he’s blessing the room. Benediction like greeting God, or sealing a deal with himself. “Total stud. High‑impact operator. We don’t onboard randos to lead First Response at our Manhattan flagship. This is top‑quartile talent.”
The investor with stealth‑wealth Matsuda frames, cataract-blued eyes like old ice, angles his glasses down as Sonny scrolls through the highlight reel whipped up by SOMA’s video guys, cinematographers who would become the next in line in for the Palm D’or. This is Dariel fucking Mejia. SOMA’s premium acquisition.
Originally courted by Kintan Naik himself, back when Riel was just a reliable asset at Valerian, a promising medical mind and hand. Then the inside guys surfaced the real differentiator — turned out Riel had more up their surgeon sleeves as Valerian’s Stitch — and suddenly Sonny’s father had a big‑brain innovation moment: a First Responder division to capitalize on the unmet market created by superpowered collateral damage. A whole new vertical built around one elite performer and a few supporting cast members.
Landing Riel wasn’t plug‑and‑play. Valerian had them locked in, tighter than their freelancer contracts. It took Kintan’s strategic negotiation to pry them loose, inch by un-giving fucking inch. Sonny won’t say it out loud— Dad loves to be the first hand in every pot — but if he’d been given the authority to optimize the offer, Riel would’ve signed on day one of talks. Still, credit where it’s due. The old man dropping an extra mil over five years just to poison‑pill Valerian? That’s a hostile‑takeover artistry. And in the end, SOMA walked away with Stitch without a hitch.
After the legal cage match, anyway. Valerian doesn’t just roll over and take it up the ass, and they’re notorious for suing anyone thought to be infringing on their intellectual property, even talent agencies with less than two people. Unlucky for them, SOMA’s a multi‑layered corporate hydra and has their own sub-department only for litigations. And honestly? Riel watching SOMA go to war for them — that’s got to hit somewhere meaningful for them. That’s brand alignment. That’s loyalty‑building. Now it’s up to Sonny to keep Riel happy and working.
“See? Look at that healing touch.” Sonny’s running lines he’s drilled in the mirror, but he delivers them like any quarterly earnings call. “A‑rank certified. Precision like this? You don’t get a better ROI. And with Lloyd Logistics, we’re talking scalable infrastructure to deploy high‑value responders like Stitch where the pain points are hottest. Full co‑branding opportunities. Total synergy. No bullshit.”
The investor smirks, chin-stroking, almost sold — until he isn’t.
“What’s the difference between your guy and Valerian’s big names? Never heard of this one until your clips.”
Sonny swallows the urge to snap and say, because Valerian buried them, man. You live under a fucking rock? But he can’t. It’s too reactive. Too junior. He’s the face of SOMA today. No choking. No dad‑voice in his head calling him a “please‑reconsider" whining little bitch.
He’s gearing up for the high‑altitude strategic overview when he spots salvation — Riel, weaving through the street fair crowd.
“Don’t take my word for it. Watch the value prop in real time.” Sonny waves them over, two fingers, a come‑hither. “Ey, there’s my number one! Uno! What’s up.”
When Riel steps in, Sonny’s arm is already around their shoulders, easy. A ringed finger oscillates between the figures.
“Stitch, meet Mr. Higgsfeld, CFO, Lloyd Logistics. You’re the centerfold of our little chat talking shop. Break down your permutation for us, yeah?”
To set the stage, Sonny fishes out a cheap business card he got from somebody during the street fair. It’s flimsy, unembossed, pure low‑budget. Compost in a few days. Not even bothering to read the name or title, Sonny flips it until he finds a sharp edge. He inhales, activates his permutation, weakens the cell structure, and—
“Yeesh. Hate that.” A bead of blood forms on his fingertip. He laughs it off.
“Stitch here’ll show you why they’re called Stitch.” Sonny claps Riel’s back, smug. “Total low‑lift for you, right, stud?”
as aware as riel is that they've been brought here for a rather specific reason, it's not as overwhelming as they'd expected it to be. looking around at the booths, they find that some of these ventures are actually quite interesting, though it's difficult to spend more than ten seconds at a booth, given that there's a destination they've been asked to be at. and SOMA's booth is really not challenging to spot, and just as they begin to rehearse how they should make themselves be known, sonny takes the matter into his own hands.
riel takes a deep breath in as they walk over at sonny's beckoning.
this PR-thing — riel's not necessarily trained for it professionally, but they've certainly been through their fair share of media circuses, from speculation, to their personal and romantic life ( and the disintegration of ) being displayed for the world, professional choices scrutinized and reassembled. and they're more than happy to pull their weight if it means a win for SOMA. after all, they've put many of their eggs in this basket, and if SOMA does well, then they do well.
regardless, this is nothing terribly new.
what feels new is the sheer level of enthusiasm from their technically-boss, as evidenced by the weight of his arm across their shoulders. riel's never quite sure how to take this very blatant show of closeness, and they wonder if sonny actually is this fond of them — numero uno, so to speak — or if this is also sonny's way of playing the PR game, too.
"mr. higgsfeld. pleasure." riel offers a small, polite smile, eyes flitting to sonny for a moment, feeling only a little bit on display. "i'm sure mr. naik's already done a great job of explaining it, but i like to think that i'm just helping the body do what it naturally does — just about a hundred times faster. and the rest is fairly. . ." no one had ever said they were particularly great at public speaking.
before riel can continue, they catch sonny's movement first. a part of them is relieved, a part of them is concerned, but either way, they catch on.
riel amusedly, briefly thinks that in all of their life, no one has ever used the word stud to describe them, but they shake the thought off and focus. riel's touch is practiced as they take sonny's hand into their own, fingers gently wrapping around the back of his hand, their thumb pressed into sonny's palm. a more genuine smile tugs at their lips, then.
they know this isn't even close to a life-or-death situation, or that they're even really helping someone in need. but they almost can't help it, the sense of quiet pride that rises whenever they use their power.
riel closes their eyes for a moment, focuses. their own fingertips grow slightly warmer at the transference of energy, and when they open their eyes and look down at the cut, they can see it heal itself back to perfection, like nothing's ever happened.
well, of course, except for the trace of blood.
"i'm not doing much, um, stitching, obviously." they try, eyes floating to sonny's face, almost looking for some sense of approval. "but my powers work fast, and that's important out there, when people's lives are on the line."
{ diego calva. non-binary, they/them. } hey, did you see the video of [ stitch ] [mending someone’s broken arm at the site of an accident]? apparently their real name is [ dariel “riel” mejia ] and they’re [signed with SOMA enterprises]. people in the comments are calling them [the judas], and saying their permutation is probably [healing touch] — that would mean they scored an [ a ] on the f.b.a.i. assessment rank, right? i mean, i guess it sort of looks like them, if you squint. i'm not sure though, the person on the video doesn’t look like a [thirty-three] year old who would list [neatly folded clothes organized by color, steady hands in an unsteady world, coming home to silence and calling it fine, a lighter clicked open and closed out of habit, stuffed animals that aren’t theirs kept on a shelf] as their interests on alterego. what? don't look at me like that — i got curious! besides, if that even is them in the video, it’s probably a pr thing for realhero tv. — ( imagined by sage. thirty-two. she/her. est. )
001. GENERAL.
name: dariel mejia
nickname/hero alias if applicable: riel / “stitch”
character inspirations: arthur ( inception ) , carmy berzatto ( the bear ) , mike ehrmantraut ( breaking bad ) , nanami kento ( jjk ) , trafalgar law ( one piece )
character tropes: the medic, consummate professional, tsundere, knight in sour armor, slave to pr, team dad, creature of habit, selective obliviousness
likes: their family, a really good cup of coffee in the morning, sunny days, when all of their notifications are gone, thank-you cards, animals of all kinds
dislikes: tardiness, people who can't control their emotions, getting stuck in the rain, sweet drinks, nosiness, cold weather
fears: things getting out of control, losing their family, seeming weak or incompetent, and frogs
habits: cleaning, sighing when they're not happy, pressing their lips together when they're thinking ( or holding back from saying something ), crossing/uncrossing legs
hobbies: running, watching movies they've already seen, reading, brushing nova's hair, going through rescue listings to see if they should get another cat or not, crossword puzzles
pets: a black cat with green eyes named nova - came into riel's life via the cat distribution system.
003. BIOGRAPHY.
[content warning: parental death]
their childhood is all a bit of a blur, for a lack of better words. when both of their parents pass away in a sudden accident, their sister, eight years older than they are, take them in when she’s only nineteen. to this day, they don’t know how marisa did it; she insists that they were an easy kid, but they know she had to give up the idea of going to school, or moving out of brooklyn. they don’t remember much of their childhood, but they think of this often.
after the discovery of their powers, things move quickly – faster than riel is really prepared for. before long, riel is assessed, ranked, and handed a contract with valerian ( a straightforward, no-bullshit healer is great for pr, and a rather sexy addition to the team ) before they’ve had much time to think about any of it means. they’re young enough to find it exciting. being important feels nice; they let themselves believe that this will change everything for not only them, but their sister and their niece and nephew, too.
and it does, for awhile. they’re good at the work. steady, careful, and they learn the job the way they learn everything else: methodically, quietly, and without making much of a fuss. it takes time to get used to the cameras, and they don’t love the politics, but they manage. what starts to wear on them is harder to name, but it’s something about the gap between what they thought they were signing up for and what it actually looks like up close.
it draws some criticism, them choosing to leave valerian. they’ve expected it as much – the disbelief, the hurt feelings, the odd looks. some of it stings more than they let on, but SOMA comes with a better offer, and riel has gotten very good at making practical decisions and calling it moving on.
and, well – the money is great. the way marisa’s jaw drops when they send her funds to pay off the rest of her mortgage is worth every criticism. they’re still working through whether they believe that. having to navigate all the chaos that comes with SOMA’s own internal issues, trying to lead a bunch of people who don’t actually seem to understand what’s going on, and working overtime to make sure there’s only good press associated with their name now doesn’t seem like much of an improvement, but it’s close enough.
004. WANTED.
someone riel patches up often: whether it’s on camera, off camera; the request is usually met with a mix of exasperation and concern from riel. could be complicated!
the one they can’t fix: someone whose damages falls outside of what riel can do, and it slowly eats away at them.
other first responders: bonus points if it’s someone riel clashes with.
valerian friend: yes, riel left valerian, and it wasn't necessarily received well by most people. but this connection and riel remained close, and as emotionally stunted as riel seems at times, they're really grateful for this friendship.
n' enemy: someone who was really unhappy about riel leaving, for whatever reason. doesn't necessarily have to be someone from valerian.
and open to many many more!! friends, found family, enemies, frenemies, exes, what-ifs, i'm down to plot absolutely anything!
