#ic. (atsuko)

[quirkladen]

TAG DUMP // atsuko !

[quirkladen-remade]

💪 + atsuko and koichi

send 💪 to pick up / carry my muse (add “+ reverse” if you want my muse to (try to) pick up/carry yours! // accepting.

     She should have seen this coming, really. It’s been far too long since she’s embarrassed herself. Moderately more assertive and self-assured as she might be as Cosuconvi, there’s no changing her fluctuating luck, and she’s been sitting pretty in this impromptu-partnership for too long. So when the tree she’s perched up in cracks under a wayward villain’s last-ditch attempt at an energy blast, Atsuko accepts her inevitable drop with a sense of frantic but resigned dread, smacking a palm over her head to keep her wig from flying off as the wind rushes past her ears. (Probably bad form to prioritize your secret identity over bodily safety, but then again, maybe this could be considered a more long-term form of self-preservation.)

     A strangled yelp dies in the back of her throat, choking off into a sharp inhale as her body hits something much warmer and more pliable than the wet grass and frozen dirt she’s expecting. Her free hand clasps down on something–shoulder, she realizes, and the Crawler a moment after that–and uses it to push herself a little more upright in the other vigilante’s arms. She miscalculates the space up close like this and clumsily bumps noses with him in her haste to untwist her position. She reels her head back to put a little more respectable distance between their faces perhaps a moment later than she should, ears burning with embarrassment.

     “Er–sorry about that. Thanks for the save, Crawler…!”

[quirkladen-remade]

@flyalibi // continued.

     “...Oh! That must be it, huh?” Mystery solved, Atsuko claps her hands together, ducks her head a little sheepishly, then turns her attention back to the waterlogged streets. Wind whistles and sheets of rain beat a frenzied pace against the roads beyond the shop canopy currently sparing the two of them from the same fate. Her smile grows a little more strained as she takes it in. “It’s... really coming down now, huh... I lent my umbrella out earlier, but it’s escalated so much at this point I wonder if it ended up being all that helpful...? With any luck they got to where they were going before it got this bad, but yikes... I hope you weren’t in a rush to be anywhere.”

[quirkladen-remade]

@flyalibi // closed starter.

     It’s really quite the sight. A tiny office lady sprinting down the street with a pair of ne’er-do-wells with cold milk tea all over their faces in hot pursuit, hollering after her and brandishing their quirks tauntingly.

     Record scratch. Freeze Frame. Yeah, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation.☆

     “Aaaaagh, now’s not the time for that! More importantly, if you guys have the energy to chase after an office lady like this, why don’t you use it to become proper members of society alreadyyy?!”

     If she hadn’t thrown milk tea at them, this wouldn’t be happening--but if they hadn’t been harassing a middle schooler for money right in front of the vending machine like that, she wouldn’t have done it! So it’s their fault!

     It’s their fault, it’s their fault, but--why am I the one who’s suffering here?! She intended to have them chase her all the way to the nearest police station, but... A pencil skirt and heels... I’m being nerfed! Nerfed by society’s expectations for what women should wear in the office! Should I kick my shoes off? But... these were... pretty expensive...!!

     She should have kicked them off. They become her undoing when one heel catches in a grate and topples her over. Atsuko takes the slow-mo moment to make peace with her life and everyone she knows (except for her boss and Yamamoto in accounting, fuck those guys--good luck defying a dying woman’s curse, assholes! may all your new leadership ventures tank! may all your numbers be thrown off by a minor but unfindable error!) as she waits to hit concrete.