AlteredTundra

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

_{a @metanoia || @Danvers || @smarty0114 collab}

_{Interactions: Hercules, Hebe, Hera
Mentions: Melinoe (via text) @KZOMBI3
Location: Bus Stop → Olympic Club}

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The goddess of youth rounded the corner onto the quiet main street, chest moving in labored breaths as she ground to a halt, and watched as her mode of transport swerved off into the distance. She’d missed the bus. The bus that only came twice a day. The bus that she’d checked the time for about a bajillion times. “Fuck…” She whispered before clamping a hand over her mouth as if to try stuff the word back in. Tossing a glance over her shoulder, Hebe's hand slipped away when she realized there was no-one around to hear her. She still couldn’t swear without feeling bad about it.

Her mother was going to murder her, or worse, decide she was completely incapable of even the most simple of tasks. Dissolving into her sorrow at being on the wrong side of Hera, Hebe strode the few short steps to the bus stop before sitting anxiously down on the not so comfortable wooden bench. Her hands moved to absentmindedly straighten out her dress, moving automatically as she had been trained to centuries ago atop Mount Olympus. It would never have done for her to look a mess afterall; though the goddess had always secretly thought that sounded like the exact definition of fun.

For a few minutes she sat, chewing down on her bottom lip, before a metaphorical light bulb popped up above her. “Maybe I can walk there!” She perked up, pulling her phone out of the small bag slung across her shoulder. “Hm, if I set off now, then I’ll get there at…3pm.” Only a few hours late. Probably a more appropriate time for a luncheon but a far cry from being on time. But she was a goddess, an immortal goddess…whose powers were entirely unhelpful. Giving an 80 year old a spring in his step seemed very useless now.

"No, stop being silly Hebe…” The greek deity mumbled, shaking off the anticipation that was rising up inside her. She just needed to channel Hermes or, or…one of Apollos cows? Maybe? “Though not with these…” She mumbled to herself, glancing down at the heels that were sitting rather uncomfortably beneath her feet. Slinging them off, Hebe held them in one hand as she began to walk, ignoring how dirty her soles were going to be by the end of this.

“Hebe, that you?” A voice came from across the bench, parked about three feet, the engine of a red 2018 Ford Mustang lightly purring.

Hercules wasn’t late by any means, so that’s why he took the long, scenic route to the Olympic Club but he was in no means in the best shape of his life. As per usual, especially on a weekend, Acropolis had yet another legendary rager that lasted well into the night. The Divine Protector didn’t remember everything, but he remembered there was a lot of alcohol, some unsavory party guests that may have challenged him to a fight, and some colorful pills or capsules. Last thing he remembered was trying to out-drink some mortals and he woke up in nothing but a pink g-string in the bathtub.

Again.

That will make the tenth time this month that he blacked out and woke up in a place that wasn’t his room or bed. No wonder he has an insane neck cramp that won’t budge. But the plus side of all of this? Taking the long way to relax as much as he can, especially since this luncheon that the worst God in all of the pantheons was hosting had the vibe of mandatory attendance, allowed him the unexpected reunion with one of his favorite people who wasn’t Dio, Apollo, or his ten-million followers.

Hebe, the one who always seemed to come back into his life when it was just right. “Oh it is you, isn’t it? What are you doing here?” He asked the Goddess of Youth.

"Me?" Hebe uttered in surprise as she spun around at the sudden mention of her name. A wave of relief washed over her at the dulcet tones of the oh so familiar voice and she tried to push down the smile that tugged at her lips. The rough gravel pavement was uncomfortable against her exposed soles but she barely noticed it, steps unconsciously treading lightly as she gradually made her closer to him. "Oh…I'm sorry, I was always told never to talk to strangers," She grinned as she approached the car, aware that Herc was one of the only people she felt confident enough to tease in such a way. "Even instagram famous ones."

Her eyes flitted to the back of the expensive looking Mustang, noting that he was alone. It would be too presumptuous just to ask for a lift though, what if he was picking someone else up? Plus it was kinda embarrassing. She was certain that most of the other gods would be making their entries in the most glamorous and elegant of fashions. Hebe had watched the Oscars before and she was certain this annual collection of deities was even more excessive than that.

"I...missed the bus." She eventually conceded, her happy expression faltering.

“Damn, that’s rough, buddy,” Hercules teased, letting a low chuckle out of his mouth. Their playful banter, no matter how childish it may have been at times, has always withstood the test of Father Time. “And still so long to the club.” He looked at his old friend, his blue eyes keeping a casual but still fixated glance on her. “If only you knew somebody with a fast car, who you know is good company, and generally can make you smile on a moment’s notice.” He made a thoughtful humming sound. “Maybe someone who is also pretty rich. Like a famous influencer. Know anyone like that, Hebe?”

The young goddess parodied a look of concentration, finger tapping softly against her lips. "That's a tough one but...nope! Never met Cameron Dallas." Bending down to slide her heels back onto her feet, Hebe laughed lightly at her friend. "Though you aren't half bad yourself...and I do have a bit of a soft spot for Mustangs."

Oh how he had missed her wit. Nobody was able to make Hercules laugh in the most genuine, authentic way like the Goddess of Youth. Maybe it was just her personality. In all the centuries that went by, nothing seemed as effortless than when he had a conversation with Hebe. Decades could go between ever being in the same area of each other and when they’d speak again or hang wherever they would, they’d pick up where they left off. That kind of connection with someone, with benefits or not, that couldn’t be faked.

She always brightened his day and as he laughed at her comments, he couldn’t help but think about the last time they were this close to each other when it was just them. “Is that so?” Hercules half-smirked as he reached over to the passenger side, opening the door. “Hop on your horse, m’lady!” In an effort to keep up the cheese that he was no doubt known for, Hercules tipped the nonexistent hat that would follow what he just said.

Hopping into the car, Hebe grinned at her fellow god. "Such a gentleman. What would I ever do without you?" She couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief before pausing to look out the window, watching as the city sped by in a blur of dappled lights and hazy faces. Eventually her gaze moved back over to him, eyes flitting to meet his.

“Probably still be stranded at the bus stop,” he teased as the engine of his mighty steed revved back to the road.

"Late night?" She chided gently, knowing him well enough to recognise the tell tale signs of the heros revelry. It wasn't immediately obvious, just a few subtleties that she could read from his face and body. "Not that I'm saying you look bad or anything! You definitely don't!" The greek quickly added, hands moving to uneasily play with the trim of her dress. "You look like...the opposite. The antithesis. The...the...you look good." She finally yielded, stopping her flustered stream before she dug herself an even deeper hole.

When Hebe pointed out the not-so-subtle lack of his usual youthful, glossy skin, at first he laughed it off with a shrug. “No more than usual. Weekends mean big parties at the crib,” he admitted.

That was the God’s-honest-truth. Weekend meant college kids and those who still had that youthful energy like the majority of the deities that inhabited Acropolis on a regular basis needed to let off a little steam. Hercules was in a constant state of hype. It took his toll on him the next morning and he always says he might regret it, but he always rose to the challenge the very next day. It wasn’t just the Divine Protector in him, but as Zeno Megalos, who livestreams just about every party at some point, he had a brand and image to uphold. He wasn’t like most phony influencers who posted themselves near expensive shit or rented them out or just…used fake backgrounds. The life his millions of followers see in his photos and his videos and reels and even some Tik Toks he makes, that’s his actual life.

“Why thank you, Hebs,” Herc said as they came to a stop at a red light. He could see the Olympic Club in the distance, but they were still about five or so driving minutes away. “Ya know, you don’t look that bad yourself, either. Ya always look good, but this dress is doing wonders for ya!” He grinned and felt his phone vibrate against the dash. Taking a moment to look at it real quick, feeling no guilt whatsoever since it was a red light.

From: Ghost Girl
interested for damn sure. I’ll meet you at the festival, yeh?

Received

Oh, this was the best news ever! Or was it? Melinoe was Apollo’s ex, so that was a major complication. Bros before hoes, right? But they desperately needed an actual paying housemate. Nothing against Dio. Herc loved that guy to death and beyond. Whenever he was in town, they had the sickest parties, but he didn’t pay rent because he wasn’t in town long enough for it to be fair on the God of Wine.

To: Ghost Girl
Hellz-to-the-yeah! We’ll catch up and talk!

Sent

Herc set his phone down back on the dashboard and heard honks from behind him and saw that the light was green. “Oopsies!” He chuckled, looking at Hebe with a smile as he put the pedal to the metal. He wasn’t looking at the road as he glanced at her beautiful face and that beautiful golden hair that she was so famous for. It was a gaze that was impossible to miss and it prompted a small frown of confusion from its target, the ever naive Greek wondering, with a bit of mild alarm, what he was looking at.

"Oh! Do I have something on me?" Hebe began rubbing at her face indiscriminately, trying not to focus on the fact that he was still looking at her. It thankfully did nothing more than to enhance the flush that had already spread across her cheeks, though she carried on not knowing this. "Did i get it o-...watch out Herc!" She suddenly yelped in surprise as the car began to veer erratically to the right, a hand moving to tug on his shirt as the tyres drifted over to the curb at an increasingly fast rate.

bump-de-bump

Despite Hebe’s efforts and Herc’s acknowledgement that he definitely wasn’t paying attention to the road, which at this point in his life and how long he has been driving modern cars, he should know better. But it wasn’t every day that he had a smoking hot passenger riding with him. So how could he not be distracted? Still, this was completely on him As a result, the mustang crashed into the curb. A good thing, though, there weren’t any cars hit nor anyone on the sidewalk when his mustang went partially forward on it. There were honks to be sure and alarmed drivers who got startled by the sudden swerving, but nobody was hurt.

“Well that could have ended badly.” For all intents, Hercules remained an absolute GOAT in how he reacted to the almost accident he caused. “You okay, Hebs?”

"Yep." Hebe chirped as she peered out from between her fingers. "I think so...are you?" Yet as she turned to check over her friend, her eyes widened in a mix of surprise and horror. There was a not so insignificant tear at the bottom of his shirt where she'd grabbed on and apparently failed to let go. A shirt he'd probably picked out precisely for this event too.

"Oh no! oh no...I'm soooo sorry Herc. I can buy you a new one maybe or...well we can't really trade clothes. Though do you remember that time you wore that dress..?" She let out a small unwanted giggle at this memory, before shaking her head. "Sorry...sorry, ah I bet you wish you hadn't given me a lift now," She forced a small laugh, cursing her own silliness. Maybe one day she'd actually manage to not mess up in front of him. It had only been a couple of millenia without success afterall.

Oh, well that was indeed unfortunate. Hercules glanced at his shirt. There was a big rip at the bottom. It was very noticeable, but at the same time, he kind of liked the look. Hercules typically liked to look his best at events. Yes, typically he was one to make a big fuss about minor things about his fit, yet as he looked at how distraught Hebe was about the rip and knowing full well she was blaming herself for it, he decided to take the high road. “Don’t even sweat. I think it adds some character to the fit!” He grinned, giving her a reassuring couple of taps on the shoulders. Hercules didn’t know his own strength sometimes, so it was probably a tad harsher than it should have been. “Seriously don’t worry! Hakuna Matata and all that."

When he saw there was no more as much of a worry on her face, Hercules turned his attention back to the task at hand. His front bumper was slightly damaged. He could always go his car guy later for it. A few scratches or scrapes endured during a trying battle wasn’t going to stop his mighty steed. “Now let’s hurry. We have people to see!”

As they got back on the road and they came closer and closer to the Olympic Club, Hercules felt that familiar feeling of dread build up in his stomach. It twisted like the worst aching pain in that region he always got when the thought of being near Hera entered his mind. This was her Luncheon. It was her event and maybe part of the Divine Protector was dreading it because she never fucking liked him. Hell, him showing up with her daughter, yeah that was bound to ruffle her feathers.

And yet he smiled. Hercules smiled at that thought. Was that his inner-Zeus coming out? Did making Hera miserable or hate him even more give him some twisted form of delight. Yeah that’s not a good sign.

Taking all but a few moments to find a parking space that was near the entrance, Hercules shut off the car. He took in a deep breath, put on that brave face and turned to Hebe. “And we are finally here!”

---

As the pair entered the club, Hebe tried not to focus on anything aside from the sound of her friend's footsteps beside her. The noise of tinkling glasses and murmured chatter was becoming ever louder as they approached the main room, bringing with it a sense of unease. Lavish events were something she'd never felt entirely comfortable with but this one was even more trying for the young goddess. The festival of life was, well, sad for her, reminding the young goddess of a role she once had and that now was lost to her forever.

She let out a small sigh as she looked over towards Herc, amazed at his ability to still look entirely god-like, ripped shirt and all. And he didn't seem that fazed by any of this either…maybe she should try to take a leaf out of his book. No point in spending the whole time moping.

Conveniently, she spotted the form of one blonde norse god ahead of them, and an entirely more amusing thought entered her head. "Bets on who will start the first fight?"

“That’s a good question.” Looking around the room, Hercules wanted to see who all was here. He didn’t see certain people that he knew were firestarters (of sorts). Ares and his father, to be specific, weren’t around. Of course, Norse God of Thunder had a temper but, judging from how he chose the most isolated part of the club, Hercules had it in his mind that maybe he wouldn’t. Something about that golden thunder god seemed off. But Hercules wasn’t that reliable about his observations being accurate, so what did he know? “Honestly, I have no clue. None of the usual players who would throw the first punch were anywhere in sight or in a state where they might.” Like your mother. Truly, Hercules was just grateful that she was nowhere in sight. Maybe the crisis would be averted after all.

Crisis averted? That was simply wishful thinking.

Hera’s eyes found her daughter from across the room. If she had been a lesser woman, she might have let out a shout of rage, or smashed her glass against a table. Instead, she pursed her lips and abandoned her half empty champagne flute on a nearby table. She strode through the crowd with all the grace and authority she was known for, coming to a halt in front of the couple.

“Hercules,” Hera said, letting the name fall from her lips in poisonous droplets. Her eyes scanned him, focusing on the torn shirt. Of course he would show up looking a mess, what else could she expect? “How nice of you to arrive, with my daughter too.” Hera’s icy tone made it very clear that it was not nice at all. “Why don’t you run along now? Hebe is important to the day’s festivities, and she doesn’t need you distracting her.”

Annnnd there she went. Typical Hera the Bitch in full working form. Not even the years of mortality (or semi-mortality in their case) softened her sharp words. “I know, right? Ran into her on my way here. Guess I’m just lucky like that,” he remarked, choosing to ignore the blatant judgy expression on Hera’s face when he caught her eyes going up and down at his outfit. “I’m actually exhausted. So I’m not in the mood to run right now. And I’m honestly pretty comfy where I’m at.” With the sole intent to anger Hera even further, because yes he knew full well she wasn’t happy that her daughter showed up with him, he grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight enough to make it noticeable. He played it off as an ‘accident’, trying to be subtle about it.

Steam was practically rising off the elder goddess’ head, as her nails dug crescent shaped indents into her hand. Her smile twitched, but did not fall. “Darling, why don’t you show your friend how we handle responsibility in this family?” Hera trained her eyes on her daughter, coming down with the full weight of maternal expectation.

"Mother, I..." A mortifying blush had bloomed on the cupbearer's cheeks and despite her best efforts, it remained stubbornly in place. "He...it was just a lift...i missed the bus and y'know...the polar bears..." She rambled on, looking increasingly on the verge of tears. Why couldn't they get along? And why was he holding her hand? She knew he just wanted to be friends. Pulling her smaller hand from his, Hebe couldn't bring herself to look at him as she spoke. "Herc, I'm sorry. I should probably go..."

As her hand retracted from his and there was no resistance, Hercules found himself having a mixed reaction to it. It wasn’t that he blamed her or anything like that nor was he mad…Well, he was mad, but not at Hebe. He could never be mad at Hebe. He had disappointment on his face from Hebe listening to Hera and then when his eyes met Hera’s, it switched into that familiar hate he always felt for her. It stemmed from how since his birth she has always hated him and it was never his fault. She just never liked the fact that his father gave her name to his son. But that didn’t give her the right to be a bitch to him for no reason, let alone dictate what her daughter did (or on occasion who).

Looking at Hebe and ignoring Hera, Hercules shook his head. “No need to be. I’ll see you later. Gotta go find Apollo and maybe if he’s here, my father--” He made sure his eyes were looking Hera’s way when he mentioned his father. Did he know that would intentionally get under his skin? Maybe. “--it might be fun to catch up with him.” He said, giving Hebe a wave. He was, of course, lying, but Hera didn’t know that.

The Queen of the Gods flinched at the mention of her husband, narrowing her eyes as Hercules turned and walked away. “You should think harder about the company you keep,” Hera said, as she turned to face her daughter, and gently smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the shoulders of her dress.

Delbrook Academy: Senior Year [ FULL ]

@Wolf Mother @Akayaofthemoon @TGM Finally finished him!

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Ross Takahashi

_{"Fall seven times, stand up eight” — Japanese Proverb}

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_______________________________________ N A M E Hiroshi Levi Takahashi ∞ Ross - Preferred nick ∞ Lee - not common, but sometimes accepted ∞ Hiro - his mother calls him this ∞ Jeans - his persistent tormentor, Jordan Hall, calls him this (much to his growing frustration). A L I A S E S @rosstakahashi @HashBrown @takahameha @ineedahiro A G E 17 || September 20th ∞ Virgo (Sun) || Saggitarius (Moon) || Aries (Ascending/Rising) G E N D E R Cisgender Male S E X U A L I T Y Heterosexual C U R R E N T C I T Y Lakewood, California E T H N I C I T Y Biracial (Japanese, White) _______________________________________ A P P E R A N C E Height: 5'8" Weight: 105lbs/48kg Hair: Black || Neck-length and smooth to the touch; requires minimal upkeep Eyes: Green Body Type: Skinny/slightly lean || Ross doesn't work out regularly, but he walks around a lot, which contributes to his boyish figure Body Marks: N/A Clothing Style: Simple comfort with a dash of nerdom, Ross style typically relies on simple colors that compliment his personality such as greens and greys, a pair of slacks or jeans (shorts in the summer, some kind of hat or headwear (it varies), and something that represents his undying love for all things nerdy. || x x x x x _______________________________________ R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Single Crushes Davina Deveraux - Hot but Ross doesn't know if she would go for him at all Kaia Choi - Ross is sure Dad would approve but she seems very nice, too. Koren Nox - small crush. Recent crush. She's really pretty crush. Jules Park - Very pretty and seems nice! Flings . . . Past Relationships . . . F A M I L Y father: ∞ Kaito Takahashi || 60 || Professor at University of Long Beach || FC: Ken Watanabe mother: ∞ Sarah Ophelia Takahashi (nee. Lewis) || 55 || 12th Grade Trigonomotry Teacher at Delbrook Academy || FC: Famke Janssen older sister: ∞ Kimiko "Kimi" Takahashi || 29 || Practicing Paralegal || FC: Utada Hikaru older brother ∞ Daisuke Takahashi || 24 || Stand-up Comedian || FC: Ryan Higa P E T S ∞ Buster (1 year old) - Male Beagle _______________________________________ H O M E S W E E T H O M E House Room _______________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S ✔ Homework and studying. ✔ Video games - he plays an absurd amount of them ✔ Anime - an extension of his nerdy interests ✔ Mochi ice cream! ✔ Going to the comic book store! ✔ Everything MCU-related. #obsessed ✔ Certain girls at school shhh it’s a secret ✔ Soft spot for chill vibes genre wise like indie and lofi hip hop D I S L I K E S ✘ Bullies - he got enough of it in elementary and middle school. Good thing DA doesn’t have that problem..much. ✘ Being late to school ✘ Aggressive music but not against hard rock. He just like chill tunes ✘ DC vs Marvel wars. They’re just stupid. Both are good in their own way. ✘ PC Master Race elitists (an extension of the above). It’s stupid. Let people like what they like ✘ Jocks and other types that play into the stereotypes. ✘ Being bugged in class by Jordan Hall. Oddly specific, sure, but she just won’t stoppp! ✘ Heights. He just doesn’t like it ✘ Fighting in general. Ironic since he has been taking Karate for the better part of his life, but Ross hates fighting and doesn’t like to get into confrontations ____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Gentle → attentive → insightful → thoughtful → diplomatic → optimistic → self-critical → shy (to an extent) → perfectionist → hyperfixative ____________________________________________________________________________ Ross is one of the nicest people you might ever meet. He can act shy around new people or strong personalities, but that isn't to say that he doesn't try his best to be friendly to them. It's just that sometimes those kinds of people just come off as overwhelming to him and he doubts himself to the point that he retreats into a bubble of sorts. When he's comfortable with someone, though, Ross is very chatty and has a smile (albeit minimal) on his face any time he's with them. He's also a very positive person. He sees the best in people even if others don't think he should. Really all he wants to do is help those he can and even if he can't, he's still willing to try and maybe find a solution or a way to help. He kind of prides himself in knowing when someone might be going through it and sometimes he might not completely understand, there's a large part of him that wants to try. ____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y Will fill in later. ____________________________________________________________________________ S C H O O L I N F O G R A D E Y E A R 12th - Senior G P A & A V E R A G E 3.9/A- Average E L E C T I V E C L A S S E S Computer Programming/Repair & Computer Math E X T R A C U R R I C U L A R ∞ Tutors (both officially by school and privately for money) ∞ Delbrook Academy Anime Club (if there isn't one, then general comics/anime club will do) T R A N S P O R T A T I O N Ross drives a 2013 Honda Accord. It was given to him for his sixteenth birthday for how excellent he's been doing at school. P L A N S A F T E R G R A D U A T I O N Ross knows what his father wants. Good college and a good job, but truth is Ross isn’t sure what he wants. It would be nice to maybe become a pro gamer, but he knows his father wouldn’t approve if it didn’t show monetary success almost instantly. ____________________________________________________________________________ A F T E R - S C H O O L I N F O E M P L O Y M E N T Ross mostly tutors in most basic academic subjects, but his main thing is math. He likes numbers and can understand them more than most. And he makes decent money because there’s a lot of rich people who don’t know how to count. F A V O R I T E P L A C E S ∞ His room lol ∞ Comic Book Store (varies on location) ∞ Disneyland R E S P O N S I B I L I T I E S ∞ Tutoring can something take up a lot of his time, especially if the person he has to help out is…challenging ∞ Maintaining a 4.0 is no walk in the park. ∞ Have you tried balancing everything and trying to keep up with your hobbies? Ross does it somehow. ____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R Been watching Person of Interest and Yu Yu Hakusho this month Ross has been practicing Karate for the better part of his life. Originally started as a way to protect himself from bullies in elementary school, but it has evolved into something he’s rather passionate about. He currently holds a second degree blackbelt Ross is left-handed Ross can speak, understand, and write in Japanese effortlessly. He values his alone time. As a general introvert with extroverted habits, Ross likes the time he can spend alone. Granted, his brand of alone time is chilling on discord, playing whatever moba he is in the mood for, and trying not to die too often. One of Ross’ favorite meals to eat whether dining out or his father making it, is homemade miso tonkotsu ramen. Yes it’s the kind that Naruto eats. And no, Ross isn’t ashamed. Naruto is his favorite anime character and anime in general, after all!. T H E M E S O N G Kids by MGMT Face Claim: Ryan Potter - | ##00a86b/Jade Green

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

LOCATION || The Olympic Club
INTERACTION || Sekhmet _@Aewin

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Thor tried his best to not let the injuries he was currently experiencing thanks to a miscalculation earlier in the morning (way early) with one of those thugs. The wound was mostly healed, of course, but it still hurt to move too much. It's why he chose to isolate himself (for the most part) away from the other deities. It wasn't that he disliked any of them. There were definitely a few he had positive encounters with. Some were fun to be around, others only made him regret coming to the country club. He was just grateful that he didn't see his father anywhere. It wasn't that he would run away or find the closest exist if Odin was here, but it would make him feel even more uncomfortable and full of regrets than he already was going through at the moment.

In truth, he was here out of necessity and even he wouldn't try and bring down the wrath of the Queen of the Greek Pantheon. For all intents, Thor was respectful (or maybe it was just that he had heard the stories of her wrath and refused to let that happen to him).

As he found a comfortable position in the chair he had chosen to sit, which had given him a view of most of everyone that was enjoying the gathering, he just kept as still as he could. His right shoulder was loosely pressed against the cushion of the chair. Soreness and tenderness were on high alert and the painkillers weren't doing the job they were supposed to. Then again, Thor should have figured that. They were expired. One of these days he would need to get a new one...if he could. Maybe some drug dealer could get him a discount if the Crusader asked him politely.

The thought of that made Thor chuckle and the vibration of it made his shoulder sear with an uncomfortable pain. He grimaced, closing his eyes and when they opened, he saw a familiar face make her way to him.

"Is that--" Thor blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, but his eyes weren't deceiving him. No lack of sleep or throbbing pain in his shoulder could deceive him.

As she made his way over to him, Thor was suddenly feeling better. The pain was still there, but the memories of the times that he and Sekhmet spent together (albeit a long time ago) brought a smile to his face that soon settled into a smaller version of itself, almost a half-smirk. Or maybe the smirk was because of how good she looked in that blue dress. She always did know how to make an entrance.

He noticed two things (aside from the Egyptian Goddess rocking the dress she wore): the plate of tiny ass sandwiches and a glass of champagne. Exactly what Thor needed. Alcohol to help numb the discomfort.

Shrugging his non-injured shoulder, Thor accepted the offer of the so-called snack. "Snack, huh?" He reached for one of the sandwiches that was barely able to fit between his large fingers. "I guess this counts on a technical level. Although, you look more like a smack in comparison." Thor just couldn't help himself. He kept a casual gaze on her as he ate one of the mini-wiches.

Rangers

_{LOCATION — Downtown food truck station
INTERACTIONS — @OGSG@Hey Im Jordan}

---

There was always something about winter in Angel Grove that Jackson always liked. He couldn’t tell anyone who would bother to ask him why he liked it. Maybe it was because winter, summer -- whatever the fuckin’ season was, it wasn’t like most places. Southern California, it being so close to the equator, it wasn’t like other places where it was actually butt-ass freezing like the tip of a mountain or when a bud thought it would be a good idea to shove a bunch of ice cubes down your back and recording it for Tik Tok.

First off, that would be totally not cool. And secondly, what Jackson learned last week was that, when push came to shove, his cousin was insanely popular on social media and pranks were his thing. Over a million views and it captured Jackson screaming and jumping around like he was an extra out of the Jump Around music video from House of Pain. Great song, but not a good look for Jackson. Hindsight and whatnot.

But that aside, Jackson always vibed and today was no exception. Work had been a bust. He made less than 50 bucks, but he didn’t have to pay any bills since he was on his parents’ phone plan. They also didn’t hassle him about rent…yet. He was awaiting the day they would pull him aside, especially his dad, John. John Leonidas Drake wasn’t always a patient man and he knew eventually he wanted Jackson to be part of the family business. Not that Jackson didn’t want to. He was even going to Angel Grove U for business classes and just to hone his general automotive craft. But time was ticking and John set a date.

“Can’t believe he’s giving me until the end of next year. The job at the pizzeria is enough.” Jackson liked to mutter to himself from time to time. It wasn’t a great habit of his or even one that a lot of people liked, especially when he was walking at night, riding on his board. He talked loudly and people liked to stare.

He remembered getting Andre’s text some time ago. He was just chilling at his house, about to take a nap, but Andre knew he couldn’t pass up food trucks. They ruled! But more importantly, that half of a hundred dollars amount of cash Jackson made from work today? Well, if he was a smarter man, he might’ve saved that money. After all, the rainy day fund would probably be a good idea to invest in, but Jackson practiced a simple approach in life: Hakuna Matata. Monentai. YOLO!

So thirty minutes ago, he texted Andre back a simple text:

I’ll be there my man! I got money so don’t even think about paying!

Jackson

And then one more for good measure:

Unless I run out, in which case you’re being tagged in.

Jackson

As Jackson pulled up on his board, gliding through the open crowd, swerving left to right so he didn’t accidentally bail into anyone and knock them over, Jackson caught sight of Andre. “Dreeeeeeee!” Jackson hollered, kicking up his board and displaying a bit of his skills. He pushed off the nose of the board, went forward, using his left hand to bounce off the ground, and flipped his body landing on his feet, stylistically catching his board in his hand as it came falling down. “What’s up brooooo!” He shouted with that same infectious hype energy he always had as he returned Andre’s fist bump

"I dunno if it's just me, but I feel like it's way more crowded this year than last year,"

“Is it really? I haven’t noticed.” It was true. Jackson was gliding so damn fast that he didn’t have time to notice, but since Dre mentioned it and he was looking around, he had to admit that Andre had a point. There were indeed more people around this year, but Jackson didn’t take it as a bad thing.

“More people, more problems, I guess.”

“Dre, c’mon man! Ya gotta think on the brighter side. You know, be more in the moment. I mean, if people have problems, then we just have to solve it! It’s as good as that, my man!”

“Namaste, my brothers!”

“Fuck Su, you late as fuck! You’re like…three secs behind me.” Jackson teased and laughed in the obnoxious way that he always did.

At her question about the quesadilla truck, Jackson let out a loud “hmm” noise as he looked around. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” When she mentioned the combo, Jackson could literally picture it and knew he just had to have that triple threat. “I need that in my belly right now! And I got like..50 bucks to spend. Not sure how much y’all do, but I think I can take care of us all. I told Dre not to worry, but if not, then he can cover the rest--” Jackson let himself glance over at Andre, a somewhat mischievous grin on his face as he nudged Andre, “--right, buddy?”

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

LOCATION || Belltown, Seattle, WA — Piers (between 3 and 4am)

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

They thought me to be weak. They came into my gym - my save haven for those who cannot defend themselves, asking for a fraction (as they called it) of my earnings. A protection fee, but everyone knew what it was. Deep down in our souls, we all knew they are thugs.

For hours, under the veil of darkness and the half moon that was out with the other half hidden by clouds, the streets of the Belltown neighborhood of Seattle were filled with filth, the scum that attacked innocents. They attacked and robbed and assaulted anyone who came down the wrong corner. An old man on his way home from the late shift he was pulling at a mini-mart, a woman who was out for a walk after seemingly having a fight with her husband, and the boy who was no older than fifteen staying out late because there was a party by the pier.

They all were attacked by the same bunch of thugs. The same thugs that were causing havoc within Belltown. The same group of five that tried to shake down Johan Merkal for money under the guise of protection.For weeks they operated in this section of Seattle But tonight would be when they came face to face with the only justice that ever got things done in Belltown. Tonight they come face to face with the Blue Crusader.

“Johnny, this isn’t the shipment we talked about. It was supposed to be 90% pure, this is only 87% purity.”

A group of five men, all wearing variations of jeans, dark shirt, and leather jackets that were varying shades of browns and blacks, stood in front of three crates, the contents of which were unknown, but it was clear it was something illegal. They were all of Italian or Greek ethnicity, each having their own distinctive hairstyle. One had spiked hair, one with oiled hair and pulled black, another had a ponytail, while another had long hair but left it down. The last one, which the Crusader assumed was the leader, had short hair. It was a buzzcut and a scar on his left cheek that ran from the middle of the nose to the ear.

“What do you want me to do, Sal? Our guy got it wrong.”

“Our guy got it wrong? Sal looked at Johnny and slapped him with a crisp backhand. In the cold that would sting more and Johnny was sent to the ground. The force of that slap was enough to floor him.

“Sal what the hell!?” One of the goons said out of the sudden shock.

“We have enough problems. We need to make more money. That idiot from the dojo or whatever the hell it was, that money was going to help us. I don’t care how much he claimed he didn’t have. You don’t have a place named ‘Become Mighty’ if you weren’t loaded.”

The Crusader felt his temper boil. A storm brewing inside his blue eyes as he watched them from the top of a building, crouched and looking at all five of them. He observed them. The Crusader wore dark colored pants that appeared black but was a shade of blue that blended into the darkness. Over his dark-colored shirt was a blue cloak with a hood that hid his face from view. It was the perfect cover.

As he watched them go back and forth about whatever was in the crate, deep inside The Crusader, that storm started to explode out. Patience was never a skill that he mastered and he punched the roof of the building he was on with his steel gauntlets. The sound echoed through the empty, quiet pier and the five men, startled by the sudden noise, jumped and all went into panic mode.

“What was that?” Johnny asked, looking around.

“Probably just some kid being stupid,” one of the men asnwered. The one with the ponytail. He was lax. He would be first.

“Tito, you’re stupid. That wasn’t some kid. Look at what time it is. That was something else. That was--”

“Boo.” The Crusader was behind Johnny and before he had time to react, he grabbed Johnny’s jacket, yanking it to him and with his free hand, which on both hands he wore steel gauntlets, he punched Johnny int he back of the head, sending him forward. The other four scattered, leaving the unconscious body of that worried Johnny to crash into the crate.

In his hooded outfit, he glared at all four men…well, three. Sal wasn’t phased in the slightest, but the other three stood, their legs shaking. ALmost like how all of those they attacked trembled whenever this gang of thugs terrorized Belltown.

“What’s wrong? Ever seen a hooded figure before?” He laughed as he lunged for Ponytail Goon. He was frozen but that didn’t mean the Crusader was. A hard knee made contact with the goon’s stomach and he grabbed his wrist, flipping him over his bod, slamming him hard into the ground back first.

“What are you standing for? Get him!” Sal ordered the other two as he grabbed a piece of the broken wooden crate. The other two did the same thign.

With a smirk, Thor raised up his fists. As a brawl kicked off, Thor held his own. Dodging swing after swing, blocking when he could, and hitting one and two of the goons with solid left and right hooks, but eventually their number advantage showed. Sal had gotten a cheapshot into Thor as part of the makeshift weapon had found its way into his right shoulder, Thor had to react accordingly, but more importantly, he had to end it quickly.

And then he was on the ground and they were kicking him and swinging those wooden 2x4’s over and over and over across Thor’s back. All the while he was channeling lightning into his left fist. In time’s past, as in before the fall, whenever he was in Midgard, there were limiters put on his powers, but it never had taken him this long. Thirty seconds was all he needed to charge it fully, but thirty seconds was too long. He had to make due with the ten seconds.

A third of the power but it’ll have to be enough, he thought, hoping for the best as he exploded up into a vertical base.

His glowing fist raised high as the electrically-charged hand of his not only broke through the broken pieces of wooden crate that Sal and his two goons were holding and using to hit Thor repeatedly, but there was a shockwave from the connection and it sent all three of them flying in the opposite direction. Sal and one of his goons crashed into a building nearby and the other found himself slamming back first into a metal guard rail.

The God of Thunder let out a victorious yell, looking around him. All five of those thugs were down for the count. They probably had several broken or bruised bones and maybe had double the amount of minor injuries, but what was most important, what Thor had accomplished, they would no longer be a problem in his neighborhood.

“Job is almost done, but one more thing.” Thor endured the pain in his shoulder and walked to Sal, who was struggling to stand up. Kneeling down, he yanked at Sal’s shirt. Sal had a bunch of cuts along his face and was only able to look out of one eye. “I will only tell you this one time: stay out of Belltown. If I ever see you here or hear of you harassing anyone, asking for protection fees, or anything like that, what happened tonight is only a small taste of what’s to come.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Thor smiled, though didn’t allow the thug named Sal see his face. “Your worst nightmare.” As he said that, Thor punched Sal unconscious.

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Later in the day…

It wasn’t often that Thor felt sore all over his body. Typically, when he pulled the night shift as The Blue Crusader (the trendy nickname the media gave him), he was careful enough to where he didn’t injure himself too badly. As a weakened god, he could heal faster and endure immense amounts of physical pain, but taking a sharp piece of wood directly into the shoulder, no matter how much divine essence one had left in him since the fall, it was still going to hurt.

And boy did it ever. He didn’t see a doctor or go to an under-the-radar night nurse-type because he didn’t need to. The wound itself wasn’t deep, but to be safe, Thor cleaned it amd wrapped it up enough with some goss. It was sore and it hurt to move it too much, but it was the best he could do under such a short time. He had some painkillers left over from his last visit with a certain doctor. They might have been somewhat expired, but they were all he had.

And then when the time came to go to that luncheon that the Queen of the Greek Pantheon arranged came, though he was reluctant, Thor manned up. He showered, got dressed, and hopped into his pickup. The drive to the Olympic Club wasn’t a long distance, but when Thor made it to the club, he found himself an isolated seat. He was sore and didn’t feel like socializing if he could help it. He recognized a lot of the deities around and knew a few of them on a friendly basis and some not so much.

So his preferred spot was a table in the back. That’s where he planned on staying until it was physically required that he be someplace else.

𝘼 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙄𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 — A Pokemon Story

---

That all-too-familiar fire that Miki always felt whenever Missy was within the same area code as she started to swell and build, going from an ill-mannered, sparking-out-of-control house fire into a borderline disaster that was waiting to happen. The very thought of Missy always seemed to get under her perfect skin (especially when compared to the depressing ice queen), but cooler heads had to prevail. Still, the disrespect that her former Pokemon League rival was showing for her was enough to get her to lose every last bit of the cool that she was trying to keep.

It's okay, stay calm. She doesn't have to win. She doesn't have to win. She doesn't have to--

Yeah, fuck it. Miki Park was never known for her ability to keep calm, not when it came to her.

For a moment, as the Lava Queen stared down her former rival and the person who somehow always kept finding ways to blame her for the same incident that was obviously the Ice Queen's fault. Only someone like Melissa Elliot could refuse to take the blame for costing Miki the Indigo League championship. How that blonde bimbo could think otherwise was a fantastic showing of her ego. "Don't play games with me, Missy! You damn well remember me!" She raged, stepping closer to the blonde, her fist tightening as she was resisting the urge (and failing) to punch that smirk right off of Melissa's face. "You clearly need a reminder!"

Without hesitation, Mika reached to her waist, grabbing a Pokeball that was the first one on the left. "Blitz come out!" She shouted as the ball opened, and red light took form to her left as Blitz, a shiny Luxray and arguably the strongest in her team. "Call out your strongest and let's see if you still don't remember me!"

Blitz roared, seemingly echoing his owner's resolve.

Digidestined

_{Estelle Lenore Lambert || 16 | June 1st || Cisfemale | She/Her || FC: Aqua from Kingdom Hearts}

Appearance:

▸ HEIGHT : | 5'11
▸ WEIGHT : | 165lbs
▸ HAIR COLOR : | Blue hair cut relatively short
▸ EYE COLOR : | Light blue eyes
▸ BODY TYPE: | Lean and reasonably curvy
▸ STYLE: | Stella, though she is fairly flexible when it comes to fashion, has a preference for dresses, shirts, and skirts. Most of them vary in a lot of ways, but almost always there is an item of clothing that is blue or blue-adjacent. Blue is her favorite color right next to pink and light green. She doesn’t wear raised heels, but you can catch her in flats from time to time. Otherwise, a majority of her footwear could be summed up to a nice pair or a few nice pairs of walking shoes (typically white and blue in some way/shape/form). Oh, and she has a bunch of necklaces/lockets. No reason why, but Stella absolutely loves them and they are a must have with about every outfit.

Personality Traits:

▸ Bubbly
▸ Open-Minded
▸ Sociable
▸ Hope-adjacent romantic
▸ Introspective
▸ Struggles to emote herself properly
▸ Prone to rambling her jumbled thoughts out loud

For the most part, Stella is a friendly, if not somewhat airheaded, girl with a big heart. Hugs are her main form of showing outward emotion and tends to invade personal space more times than she cares to admit. Sometimes it’s her way of saying hello (instead of a handshake or a wave). To the average person, she could seem a bit off her rockers, but she is probably more anxious than anything else. She gets lost in her head a lot, which tends to lead to a lot of unintended rambling. But she is a real sweetheart underneath everything. Her rambles come from a place of always struggling to find the proper way to express herself.

_{Petitmon → Babydmon → Dracomon → Coredramon (Blue) → Wingdramon → Slayerdramon}

Personality:

Dracomon is an aggressive, ferocious little Digimon. It has a fighting spirit that never backs down from any challenge and loathes weakness. Both in itself and in its friends. It will take the tough love approach to make sure nobody it cares about will ever doubt themselves, especially if Draco is fighting for them. This includes his future partner, Stella. That aside, something interesting about Dracomon is its sometimes easy-to-distract personality. Hard to say what made him this way, but one little thing that take him off-course and when he's reminded, his temper can get quite volatile.

Rangers

Jackson Drake || Red Crystal Ranger

_{Jackson Torvald Drake / Just Jackson / 20 || 4/1 / Red Crystal Ranger / HEX CODE / Evan Peters}

A P P E A R A N C E

Jackson treats his body like it’s a temple…except for all of the junk food and liquid candy (soda/pop) that he puts into it. Despite some questionable culinary choices, Jackson has a rather lean-eqsue boyish figure. When he’s not lounging around at his house or at the mall, Jackson is running around town and rides his skateboard all around, so naturally his body reflects that. He stands at six feet even and has a mostly toned body (though some parts are kind of flabby for obvious reasons). His hair is naturally medium blonde, but sometimes he goes through periods of dying it darker or lighter. In high school, he was mostly known for his light blonde hair, but nowadays he rocks a dirty blonde scheme. His hair is what one would call curly-wavy as gives off both a curly and wavy look (depends on the humidity, really). He also has hazel green eyes.

S T Y L E

Comfort over style all of the damn time.

As a punk, skater, and lover of anything loosey-goosy, Jackson Drake’s whole opinion on what someone should wear is directly tied to his go-with-the-flow personality but also stand out like a sore thumb. Sometimes that means camo, sometimes it means dress like the inner skater boi that you are, but it almost always means that you can catch him wearing some kind of oversized hoody (when seasonally appropriate), baggy jeans and shorts (supported with a belt, of course), and maybe some kind of knit cap or hat. He wears either nike or vans all the way. There is no debate there.

His favorite color is red, so a lot of what he wears has that color somewhere in his every day outfit.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

• FEARLESS - An adrenaline junkie by nature, Jackson has a fight and flight response to almost everything he tackles on. Whether academic (okay let’s be real, school isn’t what you would call his forte), but everything else like physical and morality wise, Jackson fights with a reckless abandon that is sometimes a double-edged sword, but for the most part is very much a core memory. It’s in his nature to take risks, to show people, but also himself, that it’s okay if you fall but as long as you stand up. Jackson is also a little corny in his fearlessness and misguided, but there’s always noble intentions behind it. All in all, Jackson Drake is a firm believer in living every moment to its fullest and accepting any risks that may come from it.
• Shortsighted - Okay, so risks might be the nature of the game that is Jackson’s life, but one thing he has always struggled with was seeing the bigger picture. He never was one to plan that far ahead. And he’s kind of slow at picking up on simple clues that may hint to his actions not working in his favor. Sometimes he cares and sometimes he just likes to see where things might go. Whether this is taking on a jump for some of the videos he films for his youtube channel (where he posts parkour videos), tricsk he might try on his board, or simple assumptions about people, Jackson always goes into it with the opinion that it might work out. It’s always 50-50 for him and he rarely second-guesses himself. Might be a tad overconfident in his own ability, but it easily a perfect example of his bad habit about never thinking before acting.
• Dependable - Not to quote Toy Story, but Jackson is the kind of guy that you would have a friend in. This is because he understands what its like to not fit in with the popular crowd. Having a weird middle name and being teased for it, Jackson has been in a lot of situations where kids were cruel, so this is why he stands up for those who are targeted by others because of their indifference. Bullying isn’t cool and Jackson will fight the good fight for those who can’t defend themselves. This may have led him to jumping the gun sometimes and it may even explain some of his recklessness, but if there’s anything that could be said about this side of Jackson, it’s that if he considers you a friend or even if he sees someone in trouble, he will not hesitate to jump in. Because that’s what makes somebody money! And being money is good!

F A C T S

• Jackson comes from a long line of mechanics. His father, mother, three uncles, five aunts, and over 10 cousins all, in some way, are mechanics, work for the family business, Drake Auto Repair, or work for other garages around Angel Grove and the surrounding cities. As a result, though he isn’t a mechanic by trade, Jackson has extensive knowledge about automobiles and knows what makes them tick and can take apart/put back together almost any engine if he spends enough time with it.
• Jackson is a student at Angel Grove University only because his parents said they’d kick him out if he didn’t either get a job or go to college, so he does both…kind of. He gets paid for his parkour videos via Google Adsense and maintains an average GPA at AGU. He also occasionally delivers pizza around campus, so he gets paid there too.
• Jackson has the bad habit of just saying whatever comes to mind. Is it always helpful? Hardly. Sometimes he’ll ask stupid question. Sometimes he’ll say things that might piss someone off, but almost always, what he says and what the actions that follow almost always get his desired results. He does need a firm hand to tell him to shut up, which he responds almsot ideally to. That’s something, right?

R A N G E R

Why is JACKSON a good fit with the Rangers? Jackson might have the attitude of a neanderthal and might be single-minded at times, but his moral compass may be the straightest you’ll ever see. His desire to help those in need, regardless if it puts his own well-being in danger is, as far as anyone he knows is concerned, unrivaled. He has a fearlessness and a certain reckless abandon that could be beneficial to a team of superpowered young adults just trying to save their city. And if I may be so bold, Jackson might not be a teenager anymore, but he certainly has the attitude that a certain space wizard once looked in for his team.

Rangers

Now I'm nervous ^^;

But hey may the best ranger win!

Edenridge

_{@Aces Away & @metanoia
Timestamp: The Sunday right after the Allison (Friday) Scene}

____________________________________________________________________

Mordechai groaned as the morning sun poked through the curtains of Mary-Anne Zima's living room windows, assaulting his resting eyes and bringing him into full consciousness once more. He had woken up some time in the evening yesterday, dizzy and confused as Mika's mother all but force fed him some of the most amazing food he'd ever had. She'd given him several ibuprofen for what was shaping up to be a killer hangover and set him back down on the couch, tossing a blanket across his body as he passed back out. He'd obviously slept all through the night, but that didn't stop his body from currently feeling like it had been hit by a train, his head taking the hardest impact. He squinted painfully against the sunlight as he pushed himself up on the couch, the blanket falling from his shoulders. His head was pounding and his arms itched, so he took a sip from the cup of water left for him on the coffee table and ran his free hand up his other arm. He certainly wasn't awake or functional, but at least he hadn't thrown up or woken somewhere he didn't know. Small victories.

He put down the water, reaching for his phone to see several missed messages from Allegra and Mika in their group chat. According to the last message, Allegra was on her way and Mika was coming to pick him up for a ride to the airport. Mordechai was already lamenting having to listen to Mika's loud music on the way as some form of torture or punishment when the man himself burst through the door, the noise making Mordechai close his eyes against the new onslaught of nausea.

The door slammed louder than Mika intended, but it was whatever! Seeing Boa in better shape than he left him last night was, at the very least, something along the lines of progress. “Look at you actually appearing to be halfway decent,” Badger teased his brother, who groaned and kindly flipped him off in return. At the very least, between the two of them, Boa was probably feeling better than Mika was right now.

In truth, Mika had a long ass night. Between picking Boa’s ass from rock bottom then family dinner, which was a real treat, and then experiencing a few hours of hell with Hyde, Mika didn’t sleep worth shit. Maybe a few winks here and there, but by the time came that he had to come and pick up Mordechai, let’s just say that HB will need a lot of coffee for the trip to pick up Boa’s beloveds.

As he greeted his mother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Mika sat down on the couch next to Boa. “So tell the truth, mom, was he a handful?”

“Not at all!” She gleamed, smiling at both boys. “He was out most of the night and when he wasn’t, he ate good food. I imagine, though, you have a bad hangover. I’m sorry I don’t have anything better than ibuprofen.” A look of self-appointed disappointment covered her face.

"It's not your fault," Mordechai croaked out, running his hands over his face as he leaned up against Badger. "I was imposin', and somethin' tells me I'm not gonna be gettin' anythin' much stronger for a while." Because there was no way, if Allegra and the kids were coming, if she'd already gotten Mika in on it, there was no way that he was gonna be able to touch anything other than a blunt and some hard sodas until the heroin and other crap was flushed out of his system. He didn't begrudge them at all, but it was going to make his next couple weeks absolute hell.

"Thank you, Mrs. Zima, for takin' care'a me on such short notice. I'm really sorry this is how we met."

That look of disappointment was quickly replaced with a smile as Mary-Anne waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head slightly. “It was out of our control. I’m just happy that we got to meet. Next time, we all can more than make up for it.” Her eyes went to her son.

And the smile was returned. “Mom’s right. When circumstances are…different, maybe we can do this again and not just in this apartment.” He half-smiled as he looked to Boa. “And perhaps I might even be able to eat some of that food I smelled last night.” It was clear in Mika’s voice that there was a tinge of jealousy that Mordechai, despite his state, was able to eat the food that he hasn’t had in some time. “I hope you savored it all,” Mika teased his brother, nudging him a few times in the shoulder.

"When have ya known me not ta savor a meal?" He retorted, an attempt of a grin twitching on his lips as he stared back into Mika's deep blue eyes. "Though I look forward ta actually havin' a meal with ya sometime soon, Mrs. Zima. I'll try ta make better conversation than drunken ramblin' next time," Mordechai promised, looking over to the woman and swallowing harshly against the spike of pain it sent through his skull. Today was going to be a very long day and he was nowhere close to being ready to face it physically, let alone emotionally. After his conversation with Mika yesterday, he'd checked out, wiped himself out, closed the door on the oversensitive part of him. The man sitting next to the Honey Badger of the Southside was no longer scared-angry-lost-confused-hurthurthurt, he was just tired and compliant. "Maybe I could cook somethin' for you ta return the favor."

Mary-Anne gave another smile. “That would be lovely!”

Mika didn’t say anything to Boa. He didn’t really have to, but he could tell by the way his mother was acting and also with how comfortable that Boa seemed to be around her, it was clear that last night went as well as it could be. The final moments that Badger spent seated was dividing his gaze between Mary-Anne and Boa. Part of him wanted to savor it but also he was just trying not to fall asleep. Her couch was a lot better and more comfortable than the one he had at his apartment. Guess that was what happened when you were granted the special apartment on the special floor.

As he stood up, the loss of his support sending Boa toppling into the cushions and eliciting a curse from the man, Mika grunted. The exhaustion was setting in, but he had no time to sit around. He wished he could stay and catch a few hours of quality sleep, but Allegra would kill both of them if they were late. “You about ready?” Mika asked Boa as he walked over to his mom, who had stood up from the chair that sat across from the boys on the couch. He gave her a tight hug. “I’ll try and stop by soon, mom. Promise!”

---

When Mika and Boa left the Lost Souls apartments, greeted the serpents standing guard in the early morning, and the New York-born Russian Badger helped his withdrawal-showing brother from another mother into the passenger side, they finally took off. He hopped on the nearest freeway entrance, letting idle chatter fill the silence of a few minutes until the two ran out of things to talk about.

Truth be told, even though he wouldn’t admit it to Mordechai, Mika was beyond impaired to drive. He was exhausted in a lot of ways that exceeded the physical sense. He had a long night that started with Boa, then dinner with the Gonzalez, then the Death Triangle. The few hours of sleep between each wasn’t enough, especially with all of the stress he found himself under thanks in all part to his always-exceeding-expectations, older brother. To make matters worse, he doubted he would have any real rest anytime soon.

But, of course, that was a matter for a later point in the day. Mika had to shove it all down because this was a very important drive. It was a long one, especially with how Mika was feeling, but one that would no doubt be of great significance.

“How about a little music since we’re clearly too exhausted to keep our thriving dialogue going,” Mika chuckled, nudging Boa in the shoulder. He made sure to snicker at Boa before reaching for his phone, gaining a wary look from the washed out man. Should he be looking at it in his impaired condition while driving on the highway? Probably not, but what was life without risk? “You’ll like this one. A…friend of mine turned me onto it.” By friend, he meant one of his boys from Brighton Beach.

Mika scrolled through his Apple Music and pulled up a classic, letting Boa hear for himself just what kind of crazy jams that Mika got down with. “Pretty good, yeah?”

The second the beat started up in Badger’s speakers Mordechai groaned in dismay and pulled the lever to release the seat back, laying it flat and throwing his jacket over his face while he used his hands to plug his ears. The man’s subwoofers had every pulsing beat shooting through his head like he was standing next to a speaker at a rave, and he desperately flung his arm to the passenger door panel to roll down the window and get some blessed fresh air circulation against the onslaught.

“You’re a fuckin’ menace Badger!” He shouted as loud as he dared.

“Pa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!” In contrast to how miserable Boa seemed to be, Mika was, in all honesty vibing. “You can’t say this isn’t a fire beat, Boa! It’s the real shit!” Mika banged on the steering wheel to the sound of the beat.

The rest of the ride to the airport consisted of more torture for the nauseated man and amusement on a certain Badger’s part. When they arrived at the airport, Allegra was standing at the pickup curb arguing with-well, more like cussing out- a sweaty man in a suit and service vest while she held Chai on her hip and Viva clung to her leg. Mordechai stared nervously at the scene as his stomach rolled once more.

“What are the odds she’s just goin’ off for the sake of it?”He asked Mika desperately.

Internally cursing, when Mika thought the day wouldn’t get worse, regardless how it was spun, the universe just loved to prove him wrong. “Stay in the truck,” Mika said, a stern, concerned look on his face for Mordechai. “I’ll see what the hell is going on.”

“Don’t have ta tell me twice,” Mordechai relented easily, sinking back into his seat and covering his face back up with his jacket to get a little bit of peace and dark before hurricane Allegra made it into the truck.

After Mika exited his truck and made his way over to where Allegra and the two clearly older men were currently on the receiving end of a very…colorful series of words that any normal person would think shouldn’t be said in front of two young children, but Mika heard worse when he was Viva’s age. So why should he care? Besides, as he stood a few feet away from it, Mika couldn’t help but enjoy the show for a few moments before intervening.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite spitfire!” He stepped forward, hands in his hoodie pocket, back slouched somewhat, and he gave a wave to Viva, smiling at the little munchkin. “What’s happening?”

“Unc’a Badgew!!” Viva cheered, immediately releasing her mother’s leg and running full tilt into Mika’s instead, wrapping her arms around him like an octopus while Allegra’s head whipped around to track her child. “Momma’s sca-wing people again,” She giggled as she beamed up at him, lifting her arms up to him to indicate she wanted to be picked up.

Without hesitation, Mika picked up the young Viva as he slid his hands under her arms and secured her in a tight (but not too tight cause she was fragile) hold on his side.

“Mika! Thank god, I might need someone ta hold me back if I hear the same bullshit line on more fuckin’ time abou-”

“Sir, as I’ve already told your wife-” The first man began belligerently before Allegra spun back around to glare him down with the heat of hell’s own flames.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare cut me off ya dickless, sweaty pig. And he ain't my fuckin' husband. Just tell me how the fuck ya put my luggage on the wrong goddamn plane as though the information tag wasn’t clearly displayed,” She turned to Mika, and for a split moment she allowed him to see the pout through all her rage as she spoke directly to him. “It was my everyday clothes bag. I can’t exactly walk around in my work clothes so this,” She gestured to her black and white striped top and relaxed jeans. “is all I have in terms of home clothes until they find out wherever the fuck they sent my shit, and then it’s still not promised it’s not just lost for-fucking-ever.”

“Vewy Angwy,” Viva emphasized to Mika in a whisper as she leaned into him, eyes wide. “The man’s been a meany.”

“That’s right. Also big dumb dumb!” Mika snickered with Viva, entertaining the young girl in his arms as he kept a glaring eye on the dumbasses.

Said man rolled his eyes in aggravation at the child, and he dropped his hand on Allegra’s shoulder in order to forcefully guide her towards Mika, grabbing her remaining luggage at the same time. His attention was just split enough that he didn’t have time to react as Allegra jolted and spun back around, Chai held securely to her chest while she landed a solid right hook to the supervisor’s jaw.

“You don’t fuckin’ touch me again, asshole!”

Never a dull moment. That thought carried itself into Mika’s next action as he held Viva close to his literal chest and grabbed Allegra’s luggage and ran back to the truck, tossing it in the back as soon as he could. He opened the back door, setting Viva on the seat. “I’ll be back,” Mika stated in an almost Arnold Schwarzenegger-like manner, looking and smiling at Viva as she giggled. He gestured to Allegra to get into the truck.

Shit hit the fan so fast, but in the smallest moment he had to spare, Mika admired the handiwork that Legs left on the floored man’s face. He saw another trying to grab for her and Mika rushed back, socking the other one in his face, knocking him out in the process. “That’s for losing her luggage, mudak.”

He half-smirked at Legs. “We should leave now,” Mika suggested, tugging Allegra by the hand to emphasize the sense of urgency they should prioritize.

"I think you're right," Allegra agreed easily as she slid into the back seat with her child, accepting Chai back from Mika before she began strapping Viva in single handed. Once that was done she lifted Mordechai's jacket off his face before kissing the palm of her hand and giving him a solid smack upside the head. Said man startled back awake from where he had fallen asleep as soon as Mika left the car. "Hello ta you too," she said, handing Chai over to his father to hold since there was no car seat. Mordechai took him willingly and held him close.

"I've missed you guys," Mordechai admitted instead of greeting them, catching Allegra's eyes through the mirror. "I'm glad you're here."

Allegra's gaze in the rearview softened slightly. "Of course we're here, bovo.”