sabortooths.
none of this is surprising, but that doesn’t make trini any less annoyed. she should have known better than to think people would just be grateful for what they’ve done, because without them, rita would have already wiped out mankind by now. and a lot of people in angel grove are— she sees it in her brothers and their friends, whose favorite topic of conversation has been the power rangers ever since their discovery, in the articles talking about how they were heroes, even in some of the people at school. but not everyone is so appreciative. a part of trini saw that coming; of course some people would see them as a threat, would want to capture them, control them, whatever it is they’re planning to do. she’s not sure if that would change even if they found out who the power rangers really are: just a group of teenagers that never asked for any of this.
she notices the gun, but says nothing; a part of her wonders if it’s even capable of harming her, if it’s only human strength they’re unaffected by. another part decides it’s not worth the risk to find out.
‘ careful — sure. ’ as careful as they could be when they have to spend every afternoon jumping into a ravine to train. there’s other things trini chooses not to mention, like billy setting off explosions to test how much they could withstand, zack jumping across trains— but considering they were doing all this even before their powers, maybe it’s not as much of a concern. maybe.
‘ what if there were power ranger sightings somewhere else? like, i don’t know, nevada. oregon. something. ’ that’s as far as they could manage, and even that’s a soft maybe. it would take a lot of lying to her parents, but that doesn’t bother her much anymore. especially if it means getting his people off their backs. ‘ because we’ve all got enough normal shit to worry about. would be nice not to have to worry about your guys on top of it. ’
your guys. yorke bites back the sour water that rises in his throat, knowing that if he allows it to surface then everything will come with it; all the anger and rage he’s got caged down in his belly, threatening to implode. he chews at his nails in a savage-wild manner, each finger on his left hand already reduced to ruin, spots of dried blood crusting in the edges, working double-time to ensure that the right mirrors it, soon enough. nevada, oregon -- there’s some distance there, but yorke knows it’s not enough, that only the east coast or even further would really sell the idea that the rangers have moved on, but that’s not an option for a bunch of kids who’ve yet to even graduate.
yet to even graduate. jesus fucking christ. they’re so young (and arguably, yorke is, too, barely into his 20s but he feels older than that; there’s a world-weariness that’s creased his cheeks that typically begins in people twice his age, permanent darkness rimming his eyes despite sleeping for the better half of a day following the worst ones, a gauntness like starvation sharpening his nose, mouth.) there’s a brief flash of vivid color, stark yellow, behind his eyes, his imagination piecing together a picture of the five of them lying dead.
it’d be a better fate than shipped to one of the floating prisons along the east coast.
he feels like a hot poker has lodged itself indefinitely into the hollow behind his eyes. yorke pinches the bridge of his nose, working out a breath and an unintelligible curse in tandem. eyes squeeze shut and stay that way; he’s already exhausted, and he’s yet to even use his powers today.
feels like a bad omen.
“ i think -- maybe canada would work. as far as i know, they’re only allowed to operate on U.S. soil. i mean, that’s never stopped the government before, but----- ” he spreads his hands in something like defeat. it’s all i got.