HIKARU TOKIMOTO: unranked & anonymous on BYOH as 'fuli163'. TEMPORAL DISPLACEMENT: the user gets randomly displaced in time; experiences time out of order. twenty-six, cis man, fc: yamazaki kento.
HIERONYMUS 'JEROME' WALLACE: Valerian A-rank, the trailblazer 'Thaumaturge'. WEATHER MANIPULATION: the user controls weather phenomena in the earth’s atmosphere. fifty-eight, cis man, fc: steve toussaint.
closed thread | into the skies: invictus & the seven sentinels
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ who: hikaru & trix
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ place: liberty glens memorial museum
˙⋆ ✮ ❥ time: 05.03.2022
It’s been years since Trix truly sought out to study and immerse herself in history, and the exhibit at the Liberty Glens Memorial Museum seemed like the perfect opportunity to revisit one of her less intense hobbies. Since she arrived in NKC six years ago, she’s been spending the majority of her time pursuing more physically active endeavors – which doubled as distractions to keep her from ruminating. Back in Colombia, she engrossed herself in street painting and studying the Violet Sun Radiation Event almost as much as she did in her more well established, high-thrill interests. Once she recognized her own powers, she became fascinated in the entire concept of permutations and invested in the rights of permuted people. Always having been opposed to all forms of government control and strict regulations, it was only natural for her to gravitate toward educating herself as society and humans evolved.
Although she does have respect for Invictus and the Seven Sentinels for their bravery and speaking out about permuted rights, Beatrix worships and idolizes no one. She would be attending the exhibit to keep from being idle and ensuring she doesn't completely lose all of her accumulated knowledge. Plus, if she plans to become an overall more balanced person like she’s been telling herself she would be, what better way to balance out reckless adventures than with a simple historical museum exhibit? It would provide her with a break to distract herself and feel productive without actively risking her life – save for any unexpected surprises, that is.
Taking in the history and making her way through the gallery of unimpressive costumes, she thinks about how much of a missed opportunity it was for the iconic Sentinels to lack so much in fashion. What a damn shame, she thinks to herself, shaking her head. Just as she’s getting lost in thought and feeling somewhat at ease, she hears a loud shutter immediately followed by a blinding flash. It would be comical in contrast with their quiet surroundings if it weren’t so irritating and poorly timed. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, she thinks. Couldn’t she have just one day without being perceived?
“Seriously? It’s a fucking museum, dude. Haven’t you ever heard of consent?” she snaps, whipping her head around to address the culprit. She locks eyes with a dark haired young man who she doesn’t recognize in the slightest looking absolutely mortified. Despite her initial assumption that he was trying to sneak a photo of her, he didn’t give her the typical rabid fan energy she could easily detect on someone. “I wanna give you the benefit of the doubt here and hope that you were trying to photograph something else, for both of our sake,” she says curtly. She’s not in the mood to teach anyone a lesson and he doesn’t look like he needs one. “Either way, I suggest you show me that photo before you do anything else with it,” she demands, waiting for him to comply. Truthfully, she just has to be sure that this stranger didn’t catch her at a shit angle.
HIKARU LOOKS AS IF HE’S ABOUT TO JUMP AT EACH WORD. He’s flighty and motionless at once, staring at Sangrienta with large round eyes full of guilt and embarrassment. Even though he didn’t intend to capture her in the photo, he can’t help self-deprecating, feeling very strongly that he only has himself to blame for leaving the flash on like some kind of animal who can’t use technology. A little sparrow or something, with tiny bird bones.
“Take it,” he concedes and hesitates before he steps closer and hands her the phone. On the screen, it’s clearly evident that Invictus’ costume is the central object of the shot, but Sangrienta still makes up half of the picture. She looks, admittedly, a little bit insane in it; the flash made her eyes red and the blinding white light completely drowned out her features. It's like he captured a ghost in the background of the image. At the very least, she can rest assured that he's not a professional paparazzi undercover.
“You can delete it,” Hikaru offers with an earnest look. “I was taking a picture of the costume…” He trails off while nervously scratching behind his ear.
It’s not his first time coincidentally coming face-to-face with the Valerian A-rank, now that he thinks about it. There was that time in the alleyway… When was that? Hey, yeah! When was that? Hikaru frowns. He can’t remember. And she doesn’t seem to recognize him from back then. Not surprising at all. It was only a brief encounter, but it struck him as such an absurd occurrence, almost dreamlike.
Having been put in his place, he doesn’t particularly feel like apologizing over and over. He wants to bury himself in the cold damp embrace of the earth and forget this ever happened before it becomes one of the many embarrassing memories that keeps him up at night. One last apology should do before he can rush off and reflect back on his entire life.
“Sorry again. I’m a big fan of your graffiti murals, but I didn’t spot you there before—well, yeah. Sorry to bother you.”
She summons real, actual bubbles from her clasped hands like an arcane mystic, separating her palms and there, between them, a translucent bubble shapes into being as if someone is blowing air through an invisible straw to expand it. Hikaru’s worried face suddenly lights up with awe and wonder; his eyes, like bubbles themselves, reflect the sunlight coming in through the glass entrance as they widen in delight. He’s all too quickly enthralled, forgetting himself and even the figure he suspects at worst a stalker.
The bubble gets larger until it swallows the items in his makeshift pouch and he braces himself for a pop. Hikaru squints and turns his face away, expecting to hear a clatter when his groceries meet the ceramic-tiled floor again, but it turns out the bubble is not so ethereal as he thought. It floats effortlessly in place, hovering between them while countless smaller bubbles trail buoyantly around it like newborn fish at their mother’s fins. He catches sight of his neighbor on the other side, mesmerized as he is by the display as if she had not summoned it by her own magic.
What a beautiful permutation!, Hikaru thinks tenderly.. { extract from thread by @fuli163 and @waywardlegacies }
When Hikaru's name lights up her notifications, Eeshika excuses herself immediately from the others to give her full attention to him. It had been a while since he had messaged and she wouldn't lie if there were days she longingly waited to hear anything back. Looking down and seeing his name in pixels, causes a warmth that cuts through the weight that she's been carrying around with her, feeling a little lighter like the days she did on the staircase. The rest of the world could fade away into the background.
Something about seeing Hikaru's name there, knowing that it's him reaching out, makes the world feel a little less overwhelming. Her shoulder relaxes. Somehow, in everything that is uncertain, his names is a reminder that there is something good. Especially with the recent news gossip wheel about her, at least she had managed to move it on from him. Swiping her fingers over to read his messages, her eyes eagerly reading over, nearly dropping her phone.
@h1karu: could i have your number?
A hot flush runs on her face. Wait? Why was he asking for her number? Play it cool Shika, play it cool. She tells herself mentally. Though she can't help but let her mind drift a little, feeling herself getting a little giggly at her phone.
[DM] @xkeaishe > @h1karu
@xkeaishe : Hikaru, hey
@xkeaishe : Things....things have been a little crazy if you have seen the headlines.
@xkeaishe : Which btw...it was an accidental kiss and I am totally single. Just it is a whole thing. But yeah, she isn't my girlfrie-
And she hits send before she can even think about it. Feeling herself go beat red. Oh no...she sent that. But he was asking for her number. So....ahhhh. She doesn't stop messaging otherwise the gab between the messages would be weird.
@xkeaishe : Sorry...that was an overshare, haha. ^-^
@xkeaishe : Oh you're deleting socials? Is everything okay?
@xkeaishe : I'm glad that you wanna stay in contact with me x
@xkeaishe : Here is my number: xxxx-xxxx-xxxx ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
She is sending the messages fast, without thinking too much into the emojis used. Yet she was clinging on to every word that he was sending. For her, it was a pause in the chaos, a place where she didn't need to overthink...even though she does overthink.
EESHIKA’S BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL DISPOSITION SHINES THROUGH HER TEXT MESSAGES LIKE A WARM LIGHT BEAMING OUT FROM HIS SCREEN. Hikaru smiles for the first time in hours, the gentle slope of his lips curling upward ever so fondly. His thoughts and feelings are all jumbled in a heaping pile of confusion, sadness, and now a faint spark of happiness tangled tightly with embarrassment.
He braces his forehead against a hand, sitting still for a long while. Why on earth is she clarifying that she’s single? Has Hikaru—has he given some kind of strange impression? Have his feelings been so confounding and hidden to him, but obvious to her?
This is exactly why he’s never been on a third date. He never understands the situation when it’s happening—only afterwards. Only this time, it’s not afterwards yet! He has to put up with his own cluelessness as he rereads her unfinished text over and over again until he decides, finally, to ignore it altogether.
[DM] @h1karu >@xkeaishe
@h1karu: oh, okay hahaha
Should he tell her that he knows Anna? Should he ask for the story? Hikaru bites down on a fingernail. No, no. He’s already chosen to ignore it, and she just confirmed that she overshared. Perhaps it's not his place to ask about headlines. He's recently experienced first hand how shamelessly misleading they are, anyway. She must be sick of explaining herself.
@h1karu: everything’s cool, yup! 😊
@h1karu: just trying to cut down my screentime ahaha
He squints at his screen after slowly typing out that unbelievably cringy lie. With a grimace, he blinks and forces himself to move on from it before he starts feeling foolish and guilty.
@h1karu: yeah! i still have to update you on the raccoon situation. sorry i’ve been kinda busy this week though
[ In Hikaru's mailbox is an envelope addressed to him —
To: Fuli163
Inside the envelope is nothing but a MicroSD card. Purple, with some artwork of a rabbit on it. Behind is a small little scrawl in Sharpie fineliner. VLVTNUNGRD.
Once inserted in any phone, the screen flashes a myriad of colors: black, white, red, blue, green, yellow, pink, then purple. Then. A line of text, shows up sentence by sentence.
Welcome to the Velveteen Underground.
The warrens are open, travel with ease.
But remember, the rabbit hole is deep.
Don't get lost in your own buries.
Pay it forward for another weary traveler,
who needs a home away from the noise.
Then an app shows up, with a stylized rabbit head. Underneath it, VLVTN.
Once opening the app, it shows account sale listings and how-to's to spoof accounts for major apps, including Bring Your Own Hero. ]
… HUH. Hikaru stares at the screen of his brand new (used) phone purchased at the pawn shop downtown for like, forty-bucks plus change. The cheap price tag definitely alludes to its capabilities (it has a physical keyboard), but Hikaru keeps telling himself that it’s retro, and that he’s happy with it. He broke open and destroyed his old smartphone, so he really has no choice. That thing had been a dinosaur in its own right, but it’d been in his possession for a long time, and he’d managed to stay on top of all the bloatware the manufacturer kept trying to install through updates so that he’d move onto the next, shinier version. He did not. He skipped many, many upgrades, and now he’s gone back to dated hardware altogether.
Figures.
The phone in his hand is large and clumsy, though it’s as useful as any so long as it can access the web and the play store. Whatever… whatever this is—whatever he’s staring at—won’t go to waste.
He thinks.
He doesn’t really know what it is.
It was addressed to Fuli163. Whoever sent it knows his address. It makes no sense.
Hikaru sat with the envelope for a long time, turning it over in his hand nervously, leaving it on his coffee table and staring at it from a corner of the living room like it might move on its own, until curiosity finally won over and he found the MicroSD card inside.
Another troubling development.
Hikaru’s not an expert, but he’s messed around with a lot of technology—a lot of retro technology, mostly. Stuff people throw out, and a few things he got from the local library when they upgraded their hardware a few years back. It’s in a pile in his room, tangled in a heap of cables and parts spilling out of a red suitcase that's haphazardly shoved into a corner.
He knows his stuff. The phone is new (to him), he hasn’t logged onto anything, doesn’t need to with older software. If anything happened, he could just get rid of it and wave goodbye to those forty dollars, a chunk he'd taken from the money Outis was kind enough to offer (which he'll pay back no matter what).
So, with a lot to lose (so much that he didn't want to think about it), he inserted the SD card.
He prepared for the worst. Whether it’s a fair suspicion or just a sign of his increasing paranoia, he was scared it was some strange F.B.A.I tactic. He’s heard A.C.I.D specializes in finding unranked permuted—a thought worth shuddering at—but he couldn’t find any information on their methods. Intentional, obviously, but even the forums were empty. Anyone with personal experience either isn’t talking, or they’re getting shut down.
Okay, well… Scary. But none of that mattered for this. Hikaru’s staring at account sale listings and guides on spoofing accounts for popular apps. This app, VLVTN, is definitely illegal.
He's honestly a little relieved at that.
Whoever put it in his possession won’t want it slipping out. It’s deeply concerning that they know his address, but he isn’t reading any malicious intentions from this.
The warrens are open, travel with ease. But remember, the rabbit hole is deep. Don't get lost in your own buries. Pay it forward for another weary traveler, who needs a home away from the noise.
No, not malicious. It feels almost like…
Solidarity? Some kind of network of people just like him, trying to help him out?
@xkeaishe Promise to message me later? We can talk more raccoon theories!
HIKARU GLANCES THROUGH THE END OF THEIR LAST CONVERSATION WITH HIS LIPS SET INTO A SMALL FROWN. As fate would have it, he’s neither messaging with raccoon updates nor in a particular mood to talk. It feels like he’s been through a blender for the past forty-eight hours and he just got out. He hasn’t even had a chance to speak to the building manager. Hell, he isn’t sure how he's gonna explain the odd request he’s about to make, but he’s still set on making good on his promise. Just... eventually. When all of this dies down. All of the noise—the livestreams getting shared around, the news reports, the headlines about Siren and Anna (that’s a weird one)—he wants to turn it all off. He only has the energy to get to the point.
[DM] @h1karu >@xkeaishe
@h1karu: hi shika, i hope you're well!
@h1karu: sorry if this is out of the blue
@h1karu: could i have your number?
Okay, now that he’s sent it, it does feel a little embarrassing. Hikaru purses his lips and stares at the screen, feeling somewhat unimpressed with himself. Try as he might, he can’t figure out why it’s embarrassing, or why he feels embarrassed for being embarrassed. Awful, confusing stuff.
Best not to think about it.
@h1karu: i’m getting rid of my social media accounts 😅
@h1karu: so i thought i’d make an effort to stay in touch with people another way 😅😅
Moments ago, she was losing hope that her and Hikaru would remain in contact. With all serious matters dealt with they would both be on their ways. Yet...here they both were, more messages rolling before. That little piece of Eeshika that clung onto the hope, bloomed a warmth in her chest. The selfish part that didn't want to let him go, just a message more, a moment more to be captivated in his world.
Only just have met, Eeshika was longing to stay as long as she could in the tiny pockets of time with Hikaru. In person or online. She'd take each moment she could. Her attention was fully on her phone, excited and impatient awaiting to read his next reply, as she casually scrolls through his timeline, only for curious reasons. When the messages light up, she reminds herself to pause her typing, reading the mesages over again.
[DM] @Siren (✓) > @h1karu
@siren Well you are lucky to have it!
@siren Of course, my personal is @xkeaishe
@siren Excuse the dorkiness of the name, well if you know that is.
@siren I'll follow you from that account now!
Her eyes scan over the next flurry of messages. And she can't help but stay a little fixed on it. Her hand finding it's way to cling her chest a little. How he seems to get it too. Eeshika doesn't pry but maybe...it could be something they one day talk about. Typing and retyping the message.
@siren I hope you're able to find your way home again.
A light giggle leaves her lips as now they are giving the raccoon of Lib Glen a backstory. An inside joke between the two of them.
@siren Surely, in a world of Permutations there has to be something radioactive that bites?
@siren It most certainly has to be a spiderman-esq logic too it too!
@siren Raccoon-Man, Raccoon-Man does whatever a Racoon can. Can he get on too a roof by an elevator....maybe? It's Racoon-Man♫
When he agreed to keep her company on the rooftop, at whatever time that does happen, she could feel the heat rise further in her cheeks. It meant that she was going to see Hikaru again and right now, nothing sounded sweeter. As he mentions a thermos cup, Eeshika is already planning to make it a rooftop picnic thinking of some of Brooklyn's best sweet treats and bakes she could bring for the two of them to share.
@siren Perfect, it's a date x
She hits send too quickly. As the word date she used all the time when talking about spending time with the Jaylen and Bunmi, not really thinking much of it. Her mind is preoccupied on sweet treats and the thought of them meeting again and raccoons and setting up talking on her alt account. As she quickly switched over to her alt account to follow Hikari and snapping up a little selfie for proof.
[FOLLOW] @xkeaishe IS FOLLOWING @h1karu
[DM] @xkeaishe> @h1karu
@xkeaishe 📎 attached a photo
@xkeaishe Just so you know it is me (˶>⩊<˶)
@xkeaishe Though I got rehearsals soon and gotta go soon.
@xkeaishe Promise to message me later? We can talk more raccoon theories!
PERHAPS IT’S BECAUSE THE LAST MESSAGE LEFT A VIDEO GAME-ESQUE STUN EFFECT ON HIM THAT HE DOESN’T REPLY TO HER OFFICIAL ACCOUNT. Hikaru stares at his phone, trying to keep his head attached to his shoulders so that it doesn’t fly into the clouds. Surely it’s a manner of speech, not an actual date, but even the thought embarrasses him like a young school boy. He feels seized with a faint giddiness, and although it makes no sense, it's followed by extreme avoidance.
Although the string of messages she sent before feel somewhat erased, he scrolls up a little and continues gazing at the screen in silence.
@siren I hope you're able to find your way home again.
Maybe it’s this sweet sincerity that he attributes his happy feelings to. Siren—Shika—had been just as attentive in the lobby, going as far as to soothe his awkward bumbling with a gentle hand on his arm. He unconsciously passes a hand through his hair at the memory. With his fingers carded through the dark, wispy strands, he suddenly shakes his hand vigorously and messes it up, turning his head into something that resembles a bird's nest.
Looking absolutely ridiculous, Hikaru opens his notifications tab and clicks on the account that just followed him. He follows back immediately. What he doesn’t expect is the selfie taking over half of his screen when he opens their DMs. A sudden, soft snort leaves his lips, and he passes his hand through his hair a few more times just as aggressively, before he presses down on the picture and reacts with a ‘👍’. The smile never leaves his lips.
[DM] @h1karu > @xkeaishe
@h1karu: of course!
@h1karu: i’ll give you a status update once i speak to the building manager 🫡
@h1karu: good luck with rehearsals 🙂
A huff of amusement leaves her lips almost against her own desire to laugh once she reads his concern through text. It’s heartening to hear that he is concerned, at the very least, considering she has heard nothing from Anna just yet. Honestly, it bothered her more to not have heard from the steward without a secret identity than not having heard from the one with one. She is sure the other has her reasons, but at the same time, Mercedes knows that Anna has dropped in the list of people she would call for help in a steward job.
[ 9:07:35 AM ] goodfella is… he is doing better, but we had to call SOMA for his treatment
[ 9:08:34 AM ] I can pass him something from you if you want
[ 9:09:34 AM ] I will be visiting pretty consistently until I have to leave town for a thing
[ 9:10:27 AM ] But I actually wanted to talk to you about your habit
[ 9:13:17 AM ] I know this is a sensitive question, but you are unranked right?
[ 9:13:44 AM ] Bc if you ARE, you need to ditch the bandages look quick
[ 9:15:27 AM ] I heard A.C.I.D. was in the scene, and that doesn’t bode well
HE SHOULD EAT SOMETHING. Hikaru suddenly looks up, eyeing the kitchen. The mid-morning sun illuminates the small room through the curtains. Every now and then, they sway with a gentle gust of wind, as if a ghost is passing underneath. He should get ahead of the shakiness that’s threatening to take over; the faint signs of stress and anxiety are already beginning to take hold in the tips of his fingers. There’s the guilt, too, over not being able to visit Goodfella at the hospital. He’d been so sure that he wouldn’t let him come to harm a second time, only to…
Hikaru stands abruptly, typing quickly.
[ 9:16 AM ] i see…
[ 9:16 AM ] i’m glad he’s doing better
[ 9:17 AM ] yes, please. i don’t think i’ll be able to visit him at the hospital. if you could pass along a letter, i’d be grateful
He ignores the second half of Outis’ messages for some time. Just a few minutes while he gets his bearings. Hikaru looks over his empty fridge (why did he open it? He knows there’s nothing to grab and eat), then checks the creaky cabinets until he pulls out a jar of peanut butter and a much smaller one of strawberry jam.
He can trust Outis, right?
He puts everything on the counter beside the sink: napkin, two white pieces of bread, butter knife, the half-empty jars.
Of course he can trust her. She has a secret identity too. She wouldn’t be asking him about his rank status if she hadn’t been somewhat suspicious already. And she’s Outis, for goodness sake! There’s no way she’d inform the F.B.A.I about him.
Right?
Hikaru, standing somewhat dumbly in front of his unprepared breakfast, quickly grabs his phone a second time.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s that he doesn’t trust this. The texting—the devices. Of course he trusts her. Of course he does.
public open starter for @invictushq ft. whoever man, if you can get in the building he's here
setting: 63rd Floor A-Rank Rec Room, Valerian Universal Towers, Manhattan, NKC
timeframe: june 06, 2022
The 63rd-floor A-rank rec room is an altar of excess: velvet seats with complementary linen tablecloths, gold utensils as far as the eye can see, a veritable warehouse worth of champagne, and just towers of catered food arranged like edible architecture. It's the kind of spectacle that makes Antwan's stomach turn beneath his tailored suit. The whole thing reeks of money, ego, and insecurity.
His expression is hidden under his formal, metallic Gravitas helmet, which allows him to quietly catalogue every insult to his principles. There's the ostentatious display of wealth, the sponsorship logos tucked into the decor, and stewards and executives drink freely and bask in the ambiance provided by a company that has caused as much harm as it claims to prevent.
Get your head in the game, Antwan thinks to himself. The money, the branding, it's all show dressing. Stewards deserve to be paid, but not like this. Not by a corporation that treats justice like it's for sale.
While Antwan hates the experience and is judging the decor, Gravitas has his hands on the mixer.
He's taken over the DJ booth. The actual DJ is off to the side, sipping water with a stunned look on their face, because Gravitas insisted they take a break.
"You've been spinning for an hour," Gravitas had said, a hand firmly rested on the DJs shoulder. "Go hydrate. I've got this."
And he does.
Gravitas is a menace behind the decks. No one has ever DJed quite like him. He's a whiz at the table, fingers moving with impossible precision, transitions smooth, and beat drops that makes more than one person weep.
The energy in the room shifts around him and suddenly the welcome celebration feels less like a corporate mixer and more like a rooftop set at a very expensive and exclusive club.
It keeps him occupied so that no one asks him about the full champagne flute or the uneaten plate of canapé's that had been pressed into his hands despite him clearly being unable to consume either.
There's a presence to his left, waiting beside the booth. Gravitas turns his head and upper body toward them to indicate his attention, leaning in just for them to hear him ask:
THAUMATURGE ARRIVES ON THE 63RD FLOOR WITH PERFECT PUNCTUALITY, surprising the attendants and servers who awkwardly and with some embarrassment circle him in a wide berth like young cubs uncertain of a lion’s ferociousness, offering him food and drink as if placating a very fussy guest. One after another they rush off after approaching him only once, each one with a greater desire to move on to the next guest, as Thaumaturge only levels them with a polite albeit sharp look and bids them stop bothering him so much about it.
His opinion of the extravagant fanfare on display is exceedingly low. The sorcerer doesn't even deign to sip a drink or eat the scrumptious food on offer. He stands like a sentinel in his own solitary corner, caring indeed very little for these empty celebrations that in the end amount to nothing—not even worth some flimsy or witty remark to make on the matter—but he supposes as well that one should attend to these frivolities the way one attends ceremony. At the very least, he’d loathe to be impolite.
He’s treated every addition to their ranks subsequent to his in much the same manner; although, admittedly, he might have shown more impropriety in the past, when he was a younger, more excitable man. As it is, he can’t forget his pride as a Valerian A-rank, but he turns his ego in the right direction: rather than reacting with base territorial instincts at the ascension of another steward to his ranks, he remembers instead the importance of such a promotion in his life.
He knows scarcely anything relating to Gravitas and hasn’t gone out of his way to learn more, preferring to get to know the man in person (and, it's his hope, through missions), but whether Gravitas cares for his own vanity and celebration or not, Thaumaturge is firm in his opinion that the effort and feats that rose him to this position deserve a sincere level of recognition; for a man's pride, when appropriately tempered, vaults him to great success.
Perhaps that can’t be found in this kind of reception, with silly gift baskets and decorations decided on by someone who’s likely never met nor will meet Gravitas; perhaps by someone who’s getting paid a much lesser wage and isn’t even on the guest list for the actual celebration. Yes, he supposes that very likely to be the case, but at the very least, he can see that he pays his proper dues himself.
Thaumaturge has been sitting in the corner for a long while, but he finally rises after he feels he’s had enough of watching the newcomer mess around behind the DJ turntable and won’t put up with it any longer. His elegant robes are dark against the backdrop of the rec room’s colorful ambient lighting that seemingly shifts with the beat or rhythm of the music; Thaumaturge hasn't been attentive to it, as it wouldn't be his preference. He eventually comes to stand beside the turntable with his hands folded neatly behind him, his expansive sleeves brushing the ground.
He watches the man in the helmet for a while, waiting for him to come to attention. Thaumaturge’s expression is perpetually solemn and dignified, but right now, upon closer inspection, his eyes are alight with kindness, and his dark lashes drape down politely.
“For the DJ? No such thing,” his voice rumbles from his chest over the loud music effortlessly. “I would ask only for a moment of Gravitas’ time. I insist on introducing myself properly, away from this—” his eyes lift in the general direction of the room, alluding to both the noise and the people. “—Well, you understand my meaning.”
So...that was it right? Eeshika had finally learned his name, and he was about to slip away again, disappearing as quick as her bubbles bursting around her. Their conversation was reaching its natural end point, right? He had asked what he needed to ask. She answered. There was no reason for it to continue. Not really. And yet something inside her sank. The strange heaviness spreading in her chest. It wasn't disappointment. How could it be? She barely knows him. Barely knew anything beyond that moment on the stairs, these message exchanges and she had only maybe just learnt his actual name.
His messages would subside and slowly increase one by one. She could let go. Things were nice. Eeshika could appreciate the small moment that he was, a pause in a pocket of time that just made her feel... warm. That she could hold on too. This was the way it always goes.
As she stares between her phone and fiddling with her fingers. Her eyes looking at the time seeing how long the pauses were getting between her own messages and his. But to her surprise, her phone lights up, another and another with a DM from him. Her smile lingers more on her lips...as it was actually rather nice for her to be wrong.
Hikaru... she smiles down at her phone, lightly whispering his name to herself. Hikaru, so she finally had a name for him. Opening the messages, she types away again, feeling a little at peace.
[DM] @Siren (✓) > @h1karu
@Siren: Yes you can call me Shika, cause that makes us friends (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹
@Siren: Well, it is a pleasure to know your name Hikaru, and I like the username. Gotta be hard to snag it up on AlterEgo, right?
@Siren: I mean it is better than my username. Like my personal one at least.
@Siren: Can I trust you?
@Siren Cause maybe...we could talk more from my other account...
Maybe it was a risk....but it wasn't the risk that scared her. Maybe the rejection would, if it was honest that they were forgetting about it all. Yet something wants to still have a thread of connection and keep on messaging Hikaru. Just a little something, she wasn't completely ready to let go of.
@Siren: You don't think it's silly wanting to go back home?
@Siren: Thanks that does mean a lot.
@Siren: Wait?! You're kidding me?!?! The racoon is back! Like it is still there! No way!!
She lets out a quiet laugh at her phone, memories long forgotten surface back of the late nights spent on the rooftop. More than once, she'd nearly jump out of her skin when the racoon appeared out of nowhere startling in the dark.
@Siren: Omg!! The same?! Like I thought I was the only one to think that. Like how does a raccoon get onto a the rooftops in Lib Glens? The elevator is the only way that makes actual sense! Like you don't think it is a Permutated Racoon or something, right...?
As she looks at the string of messages. She bites on her bottom lip a little. Maybe reading into it a little too deeply as he shows her another kindness that he doesn't need too. As she reads between the lines a sense of care from wanting her to be careful up there, to how he would let her know. Wait..that meant he'd message her again right?
@Siren: Thank you, I promise I will be careful up there.
@Siren: That's actually pretty sweet of you Hikaru. [UNSENT]
@Siren: That's really kind of you Hikaru, thank you!
@Siren: Maybe next time then...you could keep me company?
@Siren: Only if it is racoon free that is (˶>⩊<˶)
HIKARU FINDS HIMSELF REACHING FOR A RED MARKER AND TURNING TO THE WHITEBOARD AS HE WAITS FOR A RESPONSE. Absentmindedly, he doodles along the bottom edge, sketching a cluster of circles that, with a few extra details, become bubbles. A small grin tugs at his lips as he draws a tiny smiley face inside the biggest one. When his phone buzzes, he drops the marker beside him and reaches for it.
cause that makes us friends (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹
The confirmation on the screen makes his ears flush faintly pink. Hikaru has no idea why, so he does what he does best and barrels straight past the feeling, pretending not to notice it at all.
[DM] @h1karu > @Siren (✓)
@h1karu: yeah, i guess i grabbed it early enough that i only had to replace one letter lol
@h1karu: of course!
@h1karu: umm, i could follow you over there?
It still feels a little strange seeing notifications pop up from someone with an official AlterEgo checkmark. Hikaru rarely uses his personal account to interact with people, so he has all of twelve followers while following countless news sites, stewards, and the official accounts for his favorite running comics. Come to think of it, he hasn’t made a single personal post in the past two years. It's all just a long string of reposts and an embarrassingly long list of liked posts.
Well... making a brand-new account would’ve been even stranger. He just hopes she doesn’t get curious enough to scroll through his nonexistent timeline. If she goes back far enough, she’ll find posts from college. Those blurry, candid photos... The thought alone makes him shudder.
@h1karu: nope
@h1karu: i understand the feeling
@h1karu: sometimes i wish i could go back too
Hikaru doesn’t dwell on that thought for long.
@h1karu: a permuted raccoon…. O_O
@h1karu: … i hadn’t considered that
@h1karu: hm….
@h1karu: it would be a little alarming, wouldn’t it…
@h1karu: what would happen if you got bit by a permuted raccoon? would you turn into a raccoon-man? like spider-man?
A faint ba-dump echoes in his chest as he reads her last few messages. He blinks at the screen a couple of times, feeling the earlier embarrassment creep back and warm his cheeks red. Somewhere along the way, his lips press into a reluctant smile before he even notices, making him look all the goofier.
Hikaru has no idea how to respond. He wants to say yes, of course—but how should he say it? Just a quick message? Should he thank her for inviting him? Or assume she’s only being polite?
In the end, he settles on a short, simple reply.
@h1karu: oh, sure!
@h1karu: i left a thermos cup up there so it would be nice to see if it’s still there
Before he goes on Super Hearts, Keegan makes sure to text and DM some of his friends and family that he is going to be away on business for a while. He tries not to make it obvious, as reality TV contracts with their NDAs are not kidding around. He immediately think about Hikaru and decides to give him a check-in.
KEEGAN: hey hey karu! hope you're feeling better!
KEEGAN: btw i sent you another lil package, should get to you in a day
KEEGAN: some things to have with rice, but this one has some pickled radishes and garlic, so please keep it in a cool place!
KEEGAN: just so you know, i'm headed out for something starting tomorrow and i'll probs be back on the 15-16th give or take. can't take my phone with me even if i want to :/
KEEGAN: i'll see you after and let's go out for bbq, my treat!
KEEGAN: and be careful going around, okay? i saw some recent stuff on alterego and there's apparently this guy going around beating people up around where you live :((
KEEGAN: stay safe and hydrated! take care!!
HIKARU SEES THE STRING OF NOTIFICATIONS AN HOUR LATER, when he’s wiping his hair damp with a towel minutes after stepping out of the shower. He’s a little surprised that he won’t be able to talk to Keegan for the next two weeks, and naturally, curiosity takes hold. Why can’t he take his phone with him?
Hikaru isn’t the type to blow it up with calls or messages. Hell, most of the time it’s Keegan messaging him with check-ins, but it’s almost unheard of to go without your phone for two whole weeks in the modern age. He can't help but default to worrying, that old anxiety emerging from the pit of stomach. Is he gonna be alright? He doesn't like losing access to the other man. He wants to reach him as soon as possible, at all times.
HIKARU: hi keegan!
HIKARU: i am! no problems at all since the other day 🙂
HIKARU: ah, okay. i’ll remember 🙂 thank you keegan, for everything
He doesn’t want to sound like he’s prying, so he settles for a simple, appropriately curious response.
HIKARU: is it work related? o:
A quiet sigh leaves his lips at the mention of the Cleaner. The corners of his lips automatically turn downward. He still can’t believe he got away… That he ran at the first sign of trouble and let him get away. That Joaquin’s injuries only got worse.
With a guilty conscience, he types another simple message.
After the encounter with the Cleaner, there had been a concern that had been cycling through her head. It stayed with her through the ambulance ride, as she made sure Goodfella knew he wasn’t alone. Through the aftermath, and it popped into her head first thing in the morning. They were all caught on camera. And while that didn’t matter that much for most of them, since they were all ranked and due to the Cleaner’s actions there was a record of him being permuted… It likely mattered to Fuli, if what she had suspected for months was true. It’s the sort of thing that needs to be checked, so Mercedes pulls out the burner she uses for steward work and scrolls through her contacts to find his number. Thumb hovering it, she hesitates for a moment, before opening a text message and beginning to type.
CONTACT: Bandages 🩹
[ May 01, 2022 ]
[ 8:57:05 AM ] fuli, do you have time to chat?
[ 9:01:34 AM ] I have concerns based on everything that happened yesterday
THE NOTIFICATION COVERS THE TOP OF HIS SCREEN WITH A GENTLE BUZZ, coming in when he’s watching the livestream of yesterday’s events with a frown he hasn’t been able to get rid of. Half of Hikaru’s body is hanging off his couch like a melting candle, wholly deflated and unmotivated to start the day even though his stomach has been grumbling angrily for breakfast for the past hour. He watches Outis name appear then disappear with a dejected little blink, eyelashes slowly fanning over dark undereyes. He didn’t sleep well last night.
CONTACT: Outis
[ May 01, 2022 ]
[ 9:03 AM ] of course!
Hikaru drags himself upwards. His hair flops over his forehead like a wispy curtain. The faint pang of anxiety grows louder in his chest as he mindlessly cards his fingers through it, then brings his hand down to start nervously chewing on a fingernail. He’s still not quite sure how to explain why he ran off as soon as authorities were called.
[ 9:04 AM ] i’m so sorry for disappearing yesterday
[ 9:04 AM ] i heard sirens and just bolted
[ 9:05 AM ] old habit 😓
[ 9:06 AM ] is everything alright?
Her phone vibrated a couple of times. She chewed the inside of her cheek, dreading whatever waited on the screen. But ignoring it felt impossible. Eeshika didn't want to forget about it. For she hadn't stopped thinking about that little moment with him. About picking up the groceries. About the stairs. About that look. If she could stop time, she would. Freeze the world and steal those little moments for herself. To be able to see the quiet wonder in his eyes had felt so rare, so genuine. Something in her hoped that she would be able to see that smile, even just one more time.
Eeshika could feel the warmth creeping up in her cheeks. Goodness! She shouldn't be thinking like this. Shouldn't be smiling at the memory or replaying the conversation in her head. She shouldn't allow herself to linger there. If he wanted to forget about it, then she should too! Pretend it didn't happen, even if that thought bought a knot in her stomach.
Exhaling, she reaches out to read the next load of messages.
@h1karu: eeshika then, right?
Seeing her name on the screen surprised her and made her feel a little giddy all the same. Like she knew that her name was out there online bit it wasn't as commonly used as Siren was. It was actually pretty rare that people would use her name. Something about reading it, she was starting to think about how she'd hear him say it. The more she thinks about it, a few of her pink bubbles appeared floated around her delicately.
[DM] @Siren (✓) > @h1karu
@Siren: Yeah that's my name. But my friends can call me Shika!
@Siren: I'm guess your name is Hikaru?
The little peach bubbles popped loudly around her, as she scans over the other messages. Sounding too eager, all too soon. Feeling that note tighten it seemed he just wanted to forget all about it. Feeling herself curling herself, onto a tiny ball on the bed.
@Siren: No need to thank me, okay? Thank you for reaching out.
@Siren: It's gonna happen one way or another. That'll be my own doing, so you can be more at ease.
@Siren: Sure we can pretend the whole thing didn't wanna. And things can get back to the the way that they were. Exactly the way that you want (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
@Siren Sure, I think I owe you at least that.[DELETED]
@Siren Oh yeah...it's gonna sound a little silly...
@Siren I use to live there too. 14C used to be home before AxieL
@Siren I just like to go back home sometimes when things get a little bit overwhelming?
@Siren Especially on the rooftop at night, it's a little quieter.
@Siren Guess I won't be coming back there anymore, anway....[DELETED]
@Siren Told you it was silly ₍₍⚞(⸝⸝>⸝⸝<⸝⸝)⚟⁾⁾
HIKARU WONDERS IF HE’S BEING TOO PRESUMPTUOUS AS HE TYPES HIS NEXT MESSAGE. He meets new people often while doing B.Y.O.H work, but he rarely makes friends. It’s to the point where he doesn’t know exactly how to differentiate between an acquaintance and whatever comes next. For someone so enshrouded in a secret identity, he can’t tell whether revealing a nickname is an invitation to the other person, to include them among the ‘friends who call me so and so’. As such, he mulls it over for a while, reading his unsent message over and over and feeling a little self-conscious. After all, there’s no reason to keep messaging her after they’ve discussed what he meant to discuss. He’s likely bothering her with every extra word he types, every new message he sends.
He’s firmly aware that he’s taking up a very famous person’s time. Strangely enough, at the forefront of that bizarre awareness, he also feels just like he did back at the lobby. There's of course a hint of seemingly perpetual anxiety that's always present whenever Hikaru's talking to someone, but it's eased by genuine enjoyment. He hasn't stopped smiling. He isn't sure―it seems like his brain doesn't really register the 'famous' part as well as it should.
His fingers pause over the screen. Hikaru sends it.
[DM] @h1karu > @Siren (✓)
@h1karu: ah, i see. may i call you shika, then?
@h1karu: it’s hikaru, yeah. not a very creative username, i'm afraid 😅
He blinks in surprise at her next string of messages. While he originally assumed she was his neighbor, he quickly moved on to believe that she was there to visit an acquaintance after he learned just how famous she actually is. Or that perhaps she’d been aware of the person following her and just went into the first building she saw to escape their camera, but now it’s apparent that both guesses were wrong. Technically, his first assumption is closer to the truth than the other two.
He wonders, now, if they really have been neighbors. If Hikaru kept up with pop culture, perhaps he’d have more knowledge about Siren’s story. Needless to say, he hasn’t the slightest clue about how her group was even formed.
@h1karu: oh, i see!
@h1karu: it’s not silly at all!
@h1karu: i understand completely!
@h1karu: to be honest though, i’m kind of scared of the rooftop.
@h1karu: ah, it’s not heights i’m afraid of. but i’ve heard there’s a raccoon there as of late. i have no idea how a racoon made it to a roof that high, so i’m a little intimidated
His messages are sent quickly and without thought, coming in one after another within seconds.
@h1karu: i keep wondering if it took the elevator? truth be told, i have no idea if raccoons can climb. maybe that’s what’s keeping me from the rooftop. i don’t wanna find out 😰
Realizing he’s getting way off topic, Hikaru abruptly stops his thumbs from touching the screen for a second longer. What’s he doing, going on and on about a potential raccoon sighting? Is he an idiot? Wasn’t he just thinking about how he’s wasting her time? With some mortification, he can feel the tips of his ears turn red.
@h1karu: well, in any case…
@h1karu: be careful the next time you’re up there!
@h1karu: actually, maybe i can talk to the building manager about it so he can send someone to check, and i can let you know when the coast is clear 👍
{ steve toussaint. cis man, he/him. } hey, did you see the video of [ thaumaturge ] [ getting into online beef with the new everick weather reporter and threatening to throw off their daily forecast for the next twelve months ]? apparently their real name is [ hieronymus ‘jerome’ wallace ] and they’re [ signed with valerian ]. people in the comments are calling them [ the trailblazer ], and saying their permutation is probably [ weather manipulation ] — 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 [ fifty-eight ] year old who would list [ a distant crack of thunder, gray clouds drifting like a calm ocean in the sky, the faint scent of petrichor after it rains, and dark robes billowing in a gust of wind ] 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 [ and the miraculous marathon ]. — ( cast by kit. 27. she/they. mdt. n/a. )
Find profile under read more:
001. General.
Name: Hieronymus ‘Jerome’ Wallace.
Nickname/hero alias if applicable: Thaumaturge.
Faceclaim: Steve Toussaint.
Age/date of birth: 58, 01/01/1964.
Gender & pronouns: Cis man, he/him.
Orientation/marital status: Bisexual, single.
Distinguishing Features: Long gray hair, half-pulled back and tied with a thin leather strap at the back of his head; a small, silver charm in the shape of a thunderbolt hangs from it. Kempt white beard. Long billowing robes, typically black and/or dark blue/purple.
Occupation: Valerian Steward.
Power: Weather Manipulation.
Height: 191cm.
Place of Birth: Liberty Glens, New Everick.
Family: Esther Wallace (mother, deceased), Clarence Wallace (father, deceased), Open connection (sister, 55-60), Open Connection (nephew/niece, 25-35), Open Connection (nephew/niece, 25-35).
Current Residence: Brooklyn, New Everick.
002. Iconography.
Character Inspirations: Gandalf (LOTR), Thorin Oakenshield (The Hobbit), Nanami Kento (JJK), Hades (Hades game), Hanzo (Overwatch), Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice).
Character Tropes: Old Superhero, Badass Cape, Celebrity Superhero, Dented Iron, Robe and Wizard Hat, Lonely At The Top.
Likes: The pitter patter of rain, a good cup of coffee, starting the day early, order and cleanliness, outer space, nature.
Dislikes: Excess, people who lack manners, internet trolls, gossip, having his time wasted, candy.
Fears: Feeling useless or being left behind, being replaced, losing control over his permutation, failing to save someone, loss of identity.
Habits: Waking up at 4am, getting into fights on AlterEgo, daily walks with the three musketeers (his dogs), walking too fast, capitalizing random words on AlterEgo posts, ignoring/pretending people he dislikes don’t exist.
Hobbies: Running/working out, backpacking/hiking, going to the orchestra, calligraphy, astrophotography, basketball.
Pets: Three dobermans (dobermen, if you will) from the same litter, brothers: Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.
003. Extras.
Biography:
(trigger warnings: parental death, death by drowning, dealing with grief.)
Jerome was five years old during the Violet Sun Radiation event in 1968. He and his sister woke up that morning, and sensing something strange beyond the living room curtains, stood looking out the window for a few minutes. Just then, distant city sirens rang out to alert its citizens, eerie and foreboding. They stared at the strange violet sky, as the sun wouldn’t rise beyond the concrete rows of apartment buildings for hours, exchanging guesses back and forth as to why it was so bright that morning. When their parents finally turned the radio on, they pulled the children from the windows with a start, immediately covering every window in the apartment with blankets and towels, anything they found lying around.
Jerome doesn’t remember the entire day in detail. His memory of childhood is fuzzy like a faded roll of film, but he’s told this story hundreds of times; to cameras, to fans, to journalists—and he’s always firm about a few things. They stayed in the bathroom for hours since it was the only room without a window. It was too late by then, of course, but they didn’t know. How could they? It would be longer still for anyone to understand what that sun had brought that day, what permanent changes the world would see after those hours. No one knew they were undergoing a collective metamorphosis. What was certain, however, was that his mom and dad were good parents. They kept their children calm by playing board games on the bathroom floor, pulling laughter from their lips to distract them from the incessant sirens beyond their little hiding place.
In the aftermath, no one in the family showed signs of mutations. Early studies were underway at the time, and it would take years to learn that permutations could manifest at different stages in someone’s life due to a variety of alternating, interacting factors.
In the meantime, life went on as normal for the Wallace family; at least as normal as it could be in an increasingly bizarre world. Jerome took after both of his parents, though it was undeniable that he had his father’s sharp temperament. He was a strict, severe man. Kind to everyone, though rarely nice. He had a way about him that demanded respect above everything else, and if someone fell short of that, the judgement he’d bring down on them would be swift and serious; it took a long time to earn back his good opinion once lost. His mother shared a lot of the same traits, and would more readily mete out punishments if these core values and principles weren’t upheld within the household, but she was also more willing to look past and forgive for the sake of peace and reconciliation. They were out to raise a good crop of humans; children who would grow up to be kind, steadfast in their values, and immovable against adversity.
Then, the Extraterrestrial Extinction Crisis of 1977 took them from him. On the same day, Jerome’s latent permutation activated.
This day is one of the most documented moments in history. From low-quality photographs and corrupted video recordings to millions of first-hand accounts, there is no shortage of information to piece together if one wants to form the big picture, as countless governments and historians have done with varying layers of conspiracy and speculation throughout the years since. The death of his parents is but a small footnote among this deluge—this greater-than-life devastation. Yet, for Jerome, this loss carved the biggest scar across his long and storied life. It wasn’t the chaos that wreaked through the whole of the world, reaching his city in a catastrophic calamity, nor the loss of his innocence, or his naive feelings of security forever left behind in childhood. His transformation didn’t happen when he activated his permutation for the first time against a horrifying flood caused by the unknown invaders after they launched energy missiles at the coastlines; it was because he was watching his parents drown.
He couldn’t save them.
Over the years, Jerome has tended carefully to this still-tender wound. It’s a rupture like no other. When they say time heals all wounds, they exclude him completely. He’s Prometheus chained to the stone; the passage of time doesn’t matter when it concerns him. It will always be unforgiving, he’ll always be in pain.
After becoming a public steward, one of Valerian’s A-ranks that would soar to lofty heights, his history went up for sale. After all, who doesn’t love a feel-good story? Tales of people triumphing over impossible odds, of rising from misfortune like fiery phoenixes, never dragged down by the hand of ill-fate. Yet, this was something he couldn’t sit down about, and with a straight face, tell as if he overcame it. The truth is that it broke him completely. It shattered him into a man with dozens of tiny, sharp edges. He became a fragmented mirror; some sides of him were never to face themselves again. He turned inward, retreating so deep inside of himself that he could no longer endure reality without reshaping it entirely.
Very few people know that this scar is Thaumaturge’s womb, that it’s from which that strange, larger-than-life persona emerged from. The archmage, the sorcerer, the wizard extraordinaire was born from a flooded field to blur the lines between fantasy and reality. To the public, Thaumaturge is a bizarre man who takes his “hero” character too seriously, who plays too far into the role and takes it three steps beyond everyone else. Yet, despite the thousands of posts across forums, social media apps, and discussions on talk shows and podcasts that speculate over his unfailing devotion to the role, only the people closest to him know how deep it truly goes.
As Thaumaturge lived through the silver age of stewardship with one of the leading roles, regret seeped into his everyday life, and gradually, through constantly asking himself what the ‘right hero’ would do in the face of challenges, real or hypothetical, until it permeated his psyche, he slowly became the person he needed in 1977. The person who could, with one sweep of his hand, command the weather to bend to his will—to drown the shame with victories, to honor the dead with double the lives rescued.
Although the path forward has been flooded along the road, and the water has hidden large, vacuous pot holes to sink into, and though he cannot claim to have evaded them all—for surely he has fallen into a dozen and more—he has treaded through carefully, wading through murky waters with purpose and pride. Jerome or Thaumaturge, it’s unclear as to who is pushing forth. As long as he can put one foot in front of the other, it doesn’t matter anymore.
Wanted Connections:
Valerian A-ranks: I want to plot with all of the Valerian A-ranks! I'm open for all sorts of dynamics. Please understand that you all have a very strict, no-nonsense coworker who is constantly judging you.
Other Valerian stewards: I would also love to plot with other stewards at Valerian. Open to any type of dynamic! Jerome is less severe on non A-ranks, lol.
Types of dynamics I'd love to explore: rival (whether long-term or recent), old friend (someone whose been in his life for decades), someone he gets into online beef with frequently, fans (grew up watching him! a super fan would be super fun!), similarly, a super hater (just hates this guy), non-Valerian stewards (perhaps BYOH freelancers) who he's worked with in the past (basically, teamed up for a crisis he was dispatched to; they happened to be there already, or showed up to help).
Open connections for family: sister (55-60), nephew/niece (25-35), nephew/niece (25-35).
YOU’D EXPECT THAT SOMEONE WHO CAN TRAVEL THROUGH TIME WOULD HAVE A DECENT GRASP ON HISTORY, but if someone were to ask Hikaru when Invictus gave his life for humanity, he’d hesitate a long moment before answering that it was during the Extraterrestrial Extinction Crisis of 1977, and then he’d look at them for confirmation. The truth is that, even despite his efforts, Hikaru isn’t great with world history. There's an unexpected problem with erratically moving through time: he also ends up stuck in different timelines, where history is sometimes a year or two off, or disparate altogether, so he’s never really sure about it.
That's why when he saw the ad for the exhibit at the Liberty Glens Memorial Museum, he didn't hesitate to make plans for it. It's the day of, and he’s got his notepad in his pocket and three different colored pens in his backpack ready to take some awesome notes. Hikaru pays the entrance fee, gets his commemorative ticket, and tucks it in between random pages.
He spends a while walking through the exhibit with the guide in hand, stopping at each display to read the didactic while occasionally scribbling down a sentence or two, comparing and contrasting with his first-hand experiences of being in the 1960s.
All of this seems right. He’s never had the honor of meeting Invictus or any of the Seven Sentinels, and he’d probably cry if he ever did, but he’s been in their streets. There’s a strong longing in Hikaru’s heart for those seven heroes and an unshakable sense of respect that sits heavily in his chest, deeper and more expansive than words could possibly describe. It’s not just nostalgia from mornings spent watching reruns of the 80s cartoon while keeping his mom company at the hospital before school. At the time, Hikaru had no idea he was permuted, that he was just like the characters on the screen. He escaped into their fictionalized heroics, wide-eyed and full of innocence, wishing he could save people like them—wishing he could save his mom from everything that was happening to her at the time. He didn’t know fate already had a plan for them.
He’s always wondered what Invictus would tell him, what advice he’d give him. Hikaru sees a kindred spirit when he looks at the man’s picture on a back-lit display, wishing he could talk to him at least once. He’d ask him how he did it for so long, how he found friends he could trust and depend on, how he could bring himself to trust and depend on others.
With a small sigh, he shakes himself out of those thoughts. It's nothing but wishful thinking reemerging from childhood daydreams of bygone days.
Hikaru turns, coming up on the display he saved for last. Lady Siege’s first costumes for Invictus and the—at the time—Four Sentinels. Did they call themselves that before they became seven? Perhaps that’s somewhere on these labels. Hikaru steps forward, carefully reading each didactic, before finally coming up on Invictus’ costume. He stares at it for a long moment. He pictures the man who wore it and everything he stood for, everything he did and ultimately sacrificed for humanity.
A few minutes later, he pulls out his phone to snap a quick picture before he moves on to the little room where they’re screening the documentary mentioned in the guide. He sets up the shot quickly, and feels his heart sink when there’s a loud, artificial shutter that clicks from his phone alongside a bright white flash. With horror, he looks at his tiny screen wide-eyed, only to see that he’d accidentally photographed someone looking at the display from the other side.
Oh, god.
Hikaru looks over his phone, realizing there’s something familiar about the woman he unintentionally attempted to blind. A second later, he breaks out into a cold sweat. It’s Sangrienta, the Valerian A-rank.
“I’m—I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” Hikaru stammers, lowering his stupid phone. “I was taking a picture of—” he points uselessly at the costume. “I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there. I’ll delete it immediately.”
Keegan’s furrowed eyebrows inch toward each other in the middling crease between them, the sound of Hikaru’s exhaled sigh-laugh — exasperated, maybe — dissolving in the meager space between their bodies. Hikaru’s eyes look glazed and sharply present all at once, as if he’s caught inside something happening only to him, even though he’s barely an inch from Keegan.
Keegan wishes he could cross that gap, reach whatever pain Hikaru is trapped in, and understand it without asking the boy to reopen a wound that seems dangerous to name. Like it cannot be uttered unless something sinister will gain form. All Keegan can do is stay beside Hikaru, steady and close.
The first time he met Hikaru had felt like this too — a Good Samaritan moment, helping someone who apologized for hurting, for needing anything at all. Keegan had insisted there was nothing shameful about pain, and little by little, they came to build a friendship... Even if at that start, Keegan wondered why Hikaru would sometimes sneak a look, furtive, as if checking. Keegan does not understand what Hikaru was looking for, still. And he wants to know so much that it burns.
Now, as he draws the ache out of Hikaru’s body, he watches the tension ease from the younger man’s muscles. The air itself seems to settle. The pain prickles into Keegan instead, but the relief on Hikaru’s face softens the sting.
He shifts his grip to help Hikaru walk, and Hikaru suddenly stiffens. Keegan clears his throat gently — more a breath adjustment than a reprimand. Hikaru’s fear of hospitals flickers again in Keegan’s mind. Ever since they met, Hikaru has avoided them. Debt? Trauma? Something keeps him away.
“ Hikaru, you can’t go by yourself, ” Keegan says, holding on as Hikaru’s frame goes rigid. He’s afraid that if he lets go... what if Hikaru will bolt and get hurt worse? “ If there’s a fracture, you need X-rays. They’ll know what to do. ”
He doesn’t say the rest, but Hikaru knows. Keegan can take pain away, but he can’t heal. Not like the specialists at SOMA.
“ Falling off a staircase… doing what? ” Keegan asks as he guides him out of the alley, wondering what Hikaru had been doing there in the first place. “ Did you slip because of your migraines again? ”
Those strange moments of disorientation worry Keegan more than he admits. Hikaru has mentioned about them only in passing — during times less stressful than this, where they would be grabbing pizza or hanging out at the park. When Hikaru let Keegan in.
Hikaru gives him a conflicted look, still trying to find direction while refusing to face it. Keegan nods at the answer, the explanation of what to do. Technically, Hikaru isn’t wrong. In a real hospital, no one would be doing what Keegan is doing. His instructors would say he’s overstepping. Give the patient meds and let them manage themselves. Don’t risk mishandling anything.
“ Yeah, you shouldn’t sleep if it’s a concussion. But if it’s not, you’ll need rest… ” Keegan trails off, losing confidence mid-sentence. “ Maybe I can come over and keep watch— ”
His phone beeps. And his heart sinks. An alert from Valerian Headquarters floods his screen, requesting help for an emergency nearby. Maybe the event that rerouted the trains in the first place? Valerian wants him on support for the B-ranks.
But not now... The time... Keegan scrolls through the alert with one hand, thumb hovering over an automated text saying he can’t go.
“ Maybe we can get to your place another way, ” Keegan says, attempting to lighten up the mood. “ Should I should finally try that Bring-Your-Own-Hero app? See if anyone nearby can fly or teleport us, heh. ”
HIKARU TAKES STOCK OF HIS INJURIES ONCE KEEGAN MENTIONS THE POSSIBILITY OF A FRACTURE WITH MINDLESS DISREGARD. He doesn’t feel like there’s a fracture, but it’s not like he can tell with certainty. There’s the fact that Keegan’s taken away his pain for the next few hours, so he doesn’t feel like there’s anything particularly wrong right now, but also that he’s never had a fracture, so he’d have no clue how one feels. Despite knowing this, he keeps stubbornly insisting that he’s okay.
“If I still feel bad tomorrow,” he pipes up instead, “I’ll go ask someone if I have a fracture.”
It’s an ambiguous promise. He even avoids saying he’ll go to a hospital. But when he says it, he’s looking at Keegan like it’s a brilliant, fool-proof idea. His dark eyes glisten with innocence, creasing softly at the corners. It’s something he always tries; the upbeat attitude, the light-hearted, carefree tone. It’s his safety net, a mask so worn it’s nearly fused with his face.
As they leave the alley, Hikaru glances to and fro, watching as the crowd of commuters still pour out of the station looking for other means of transport. The sidewalk is bustling and he self-consciously turns his head down, tugging his hood up to cover up to his chin.
“Mn,” Hikaru responds, confirming the other’s guess. His eyelashes lift to Keegan in a guilty flutter. “But it wasn’t that high up, just a flight…”
He trails off when Keegan gets a notification from his phone, politely looking away to grant him privacy. Hikaru absentmindedly stares at the trail of seemingly endless traffic, thinking about Keegan’s offer. He’s reminded of the times he’d show up at his apartment in that timeline.
The first time they met, Hikaru was choking under distress. He was lost, unaware that he was displaced, and scared that something else was going on, that he was losing his mind. Keegan had been his neighbor, then. He found Hikaru in the midst of a breakdown because he couldn’t tell which apartment was his. As he tried his door over and over again, he kept finding that his key wouldn’t turn, then he began pacing up and down the staircases, frantically counting the floors. Keegan approached him at that moment, and calmly led him to the right one. He spent that night mortified, furiously scribbling reminders to himself that are still underlined two, three times in his pocket journal.
Not that he’ll ever be back there, he thinks. He’s tried. Whenever he feels a migraine coming on, he finds a place to hide and closes his eyes, envisioning that apartment. It hasn’t worked.
Hikaru turns to Keegan when he mentions Bring Your Own Hero, freezing for a moment. There’s no way he could get an alert right now since he’s not online, yet mild panic finds him from the mere thought.
He takes a breath, shrugging faintly. “I don’t mind squeezing into a bus.”
He doesn’t want Keegan to go out of his way in the first place, but he’s already refused him so many times that if he keeps doing it, he thinks Keegan might just start to get suspicious. But more importantly, he doesn’t want to hurt the other’s feelings. He’s always been so nice to him, after all, and Hikaru can’t really offer anything of value in return.
“But if the rates aren’t too high, and you can really find someone to teleport us…” He gets the feeling they’re better off just getting a head start on the bus lines. “I guess we can try. Though, really, you don’t have to keep me company. Didn’t you say you need to go to Manhattan?”
@Siren That's okay, I just wanted you to know that the option was there if you did want too (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
The emoji didn't match the expression in her face. As something in her feels a little bit dejected. At the same time, she understood the apprehension he must be having about her. Sometimes it was better to get thing in writing, something that could be read over, for confirmation or for overthinking. Maybe it was for the best. Like how would she start the conversation. "So hey we're dating!" She would properly say as an awkward joke to break the ice. The thought of that made her cheeks flush but she shakes that off quick.
Her fingers mover faster than she is actually thinking. Hitting send on every line as she decides to speak well really type honestly with him. Eeshika wanted him to truly know that this was all her fault. Not as a pity thing in a means to allow her to take up ownership for the reckless and careless choices that she was making. She knew she had a part to play to the unease to feel uncomfortable and unease he must be going through.
@Siren Beyond my control or not, I still feel that the responsibility lies on me since I should have known a lot better than that. So please allow me to apologies for that. I have seriously put you in an awkward position and that lies al on me. And I can only imagine what I've put you through. Let alone the people close to you or your partner with a headline like that. So I am sorry.
@Siren Still maybe it wasn't lying but I was clearly not being honest with you pretending to be a neighbor. But if I'm being honest in that moment you weren't talking to Siren...you were actually talking to me and I can't thank you enough for your kindness. I was happy to help you with my bubbles I would gladly do it again.
@Siren And maybe...I don't want you to be a stranger.
Eeshika is about to hit backspace on the message as her fingers slip. Maybe being a little honest. But hey it was sent now.
@Siren: Sadly...it would be the Streisand effect. The more that you try to bury, the more that people would be prying and trying to find out more than they already know.
@Siren: And I don't want that for you. It'll only cause more trouble. More invasion to your privacy. To your peace. You don't deserve that cause of a photos of you with me.
@Siren: I'm sorry that I can't be of more help. Or give you better news. I'm sorry.
@Siren: I'll try and find a way for another news headline to take it over so it isn't focused on. Less focus on you. That'll be best the way I can fix it. Soon enough I'll be shipped with someone else. It's just part of my branding. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Eeshika bites down on her lip, not wanting to send it. But as she does, she turns over her phone. Rolling on bed to face away from the phone.
@Siren:If it's easier for you, I can leave you be. Pretend it never happened (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
@Siren: Even though I don't want too [DELETED]
WHEN THEY PARTED WAYS AFTER THEIR BRIEF ENCOUNTER OUTSIDE OF HIKARU’S APARTMENT, HE’D BEEN COMPLETELY UPLIFTED, PUTTING GROCERIES AWAY WITH A SILLY GRIN HE COULDN’T GET RID OF. The thought that he would run into her again excited him, and he wondered a few times how it would happen, and how he should act when it did. He hadn’t said much during that encounter and he’d more or less rushed into his apartment towards the end, so he wanted to make a better impression. As the days passed, however, and the usual weariness of his unpredictable life seeped in, he forgot to have anything to look forward to. And then he saw himself on a that website with a strange headline, and suddenly, just as always, things weren’t looking good.
Still, as he’s staring at his phone after working up the courage to reach out to her, a tiny thought persists: at least he’s talking to her again.
@Siren And maybe...I don't want you to be a stranger.
Hikaru blinks, then starts scratching his head in confusion and going, “aaaah,” before burying his face in his hand. He’s always a little startled when someone acts friendly towards him, like a dog used to the stray life of being completely ignored by countless passersby. Being overlooked is comfortable. He doesn’t like attention. This is what he tells himself firmly… So why are the tips of his ears turning red?
[DM] @h1karu > @Siren (✓)
@h1karu: my grandparents aren’t big on social media, absolutely no worries there!
Hikaru takes a deep breath. While she’s seeing things from a rather rational perspective—what if the people in his life saw this, like a partner—the reality is that Hikaru’s just a freak about privacy. He has no such thing as a partner to get upset over this, and anyone who’s known him for a few years would laugh at the suggestion, either out of pity or plain incredulity.
@h1karu: eeshika then, right?
@h1karu: i get what you’re saying
@h1karu: thank you very much for hearing me out anyway!
@h1karu: i won’t ask you to go out of your way to make another headline though, i’m fine leaving it like this
@h1karu: pretending it never happened sounds great! i’m sure it’ll pass eventually, like you said!
His thumbs pause, hovering over the screen. After thinking for a moment, Hikaru presses his lips together and fixes his resolve to ask about something he’s been wondering about.
@h1karu: by the way…
@h1karu: can i ask why you were here?
@h1karu: none of my business, i know. i’ve just been sorta curious
