Glad for the support he was offering her, Lyn sure as hell wasn’t going to admit such a thing to the man she held a relatively complicated relationship with. Her own arm tightening around her, she merely nodded with a soft sound in the back of her throat as he gave her whatever excuse he gave her. She at least kept up some of her appearance as she glanced over at him, merely grunting as he led them out into the hallway.
“Don’t worry…” She murmured, keeping her voice down. She used his support to keep herself more stabilized than what she could have accomplished on her own, maneuvering through the hallways with him quietly. It was quite honestly slow going, the active guards that were moving about that hadn’t been harmed by her firewall racing about to try to find them… and to no avail. It wasn’t all that much of a secret, that should Syx and Lyn both find themselves on the same side, there wasn’t a whole lot that they couldn’t accomplish. Though it generally took something as large as this to get them to stop bickering to begin with.
It seemed to take ages before they finally got outside of the prison building itself, the sunlight causing Lyn to squint a bit with an unhappy noise. “…Almost there,” she breathed, more than ready to get the hell out of there and get to her Dad…
“Just keep your head down,” Syx hissed softly, he recalled all too easily that the towers had snipers. Normally he felt safe that they’d be using the tranquilizers… but with Lyn by his side… that was now questionable. Hopefully, the invisibility field would keep doing its trick.
Another patrol swept through as they had to freeze motionless and pray, this one far too close. Syx worried most about the blood, the dogs might track that.
His arms pressed against Lyn, mostly to hold her up rather than to hold her back, Syx’s stomach dropped out. A guard looked right at them! Or at the vague shimmery outline. Every muscle in his body tightened, praying Lyn still had enough in her to fight the group in her state. He could at most fight two at a time if he was lucky, this group was too big. Just FUCK!
They the guard looked away, pointing the opposite direction to his fellows. As the group moved away and the hammering of his heart in his ears faded, Syx realized he recognized that man. One of the guards on his payroll. Oh, thank fuck! Sagging with relief, he motioned for Lyn to move again.
Bringing them to crouch right next to the first fence, the blue man whispered into his companion’s ear, “Right here, just one more fence after this,” he bit his lip, “Can you manage the sewers… no, no, nevermind. We can use the second extraction point. Walking further would be better than ladders…” and the possibility of her open wounds going septic from the things in the sewers.
{{ Belle/Bluebell is feeling very lonely cuz her only ship is in hiatus for the time being. So if anyone wants to do shippy things, Belle would be very excited for the attention. So… Uh, there was a “if you were my s.o.” meme? Maybe I should try and find that for her. }}
Still strongly contemplating getting a pack of smokes, not that he was planning on smoking them… not right now… but… Those thoughts swirling through his head, he turned a corner in the aisle without looking and smacked into a solid form.
Arms cartwheeling, he shifted into a defensive stance instinctually. His hand moving towards his de-gun before he even saw what or who he hit. When his eyes registered, he froze, mouth open, “Huh…?”
The guy was unlike anything he’d encountered before, but nice outfit certainly.
Dragora barely felt the little bag of bones touching him. If the dude crashed against him, he just felt it like if a courtain brushed slightly his side. A soft humm and his gaze moved away from his list, to rest on the blue man’s face. Drago’s lips’s pursed aside, looking at the alien with light interest. Scanning him, from up to down, trying to recognize him. At the end he noticed that it was not Harrison or Sheldon.
The corner of his lips melted into a slight half smile. Eyebrow up, half turning to face him. “Well well. When you crash on someone usually one say sorry. Not Huh” – Drago smirked, checking again the Alien attire. “No suit and tie…” he left the list back inside his pocket “…Finally a rebel” he added with a soft chuckle. Odd. The alien was odd. His tail waved with interest, wondering if also was cocky and arrogant like the rest. “Let me guess…. A DeGun, somewhere on your pants?” he tilts his head aside to confirm it.
Straightening, Syx crossed his arms, he really didn’t want to get kicked out of the shop for pulling a gun or have to flee from the cops. It was hard to enjoy a sugar snack on the run. Not that the thought didn’t have its own appeal… but it would detract from his ability to return to Anna in a timely manner.
“Sorry is for people who are sorry,” the villain snorted, “And that does greatly narrow down who you know. As far as I’m aware, versions of myself that lack my amazing fashion sense are far more rare,” he waved a hand over his leather-clad form. He really didn’t like that the stranger knew about his de-gun, but that was far from unexpected. It was his weapon of choice. He thrust out his chin, “And considering there are far too many of me that go by Megamind in this city, you can all me Mr. Blue.”
He fixed the man with a defiant gaze, he’d reclaimed that mocking moniker. His eyes daring the other to mock him for it, “And less rebel and more super villain. Titles are important,”
He was aware that he just announced that to the whole store… oops. Well, maybe the police run was going to be on the bill for today anyway depending on how the staff reacted if they overheard that.
“And you, my fine man?” he added with a sassy tongue pop.
❝ Jewel tone? What does that even mean? ❞ Caspian asked with a smirk, licking those plump lips clean from the curry sitting on their edges. Amusement and curiosity sparkled in those golden hues, watching her as she explained how emerald might bring out her eyes. He laughed gently, turning attention back towards his meal as he began to work the naan into the paste and rather up some of the rice and food he had brought for lunch.
He knew himself, the fear of judgement and of being seen for what you were born as. How crippling and awful such a feeling could be. To creep inside you chest and grip you so tightly your only relief was to curl in on yourself and pray it might end soon. There was no relief from the eyes that stared at him either. The boy who didn’t fit anywhere. The boy who was strange and unpredictable. Who would burst and break at the drop of a hat and who was stupid. Gods he knew they all thought him to be an idiot. It came with the Jock territory no doubt. Captain of the soccer team who got awful marks was the most cliche thing about all those terrible high school movies his friend made him sit through. Every time he saw them he thought ‘thats me, the jock that goes nowhere’.
At least he had his music. Whenever he sang at the parties, it seemed everyone forgot about his grades and focused on him. Focused on the words and the tune –– ignore the boy before them who’s flesh was broken and torn. Focus on the voice he still had… It was the only thing that hadn’t broken from his past-life. It always made him feel more whole, much like how Belle felt about this elaborate princess tale.
❝ Is it still in true Princess fashion to use glow bugs for the lights on the dress? I think I saw that in a movie once. ❞ He quipped as he brought another handful of his meal to his lips. Chewing for a few more moments before he licked his fingers noisily, and his lips along with it. He liked encouraging her. Knowing that she was a little different from everyone else just made her more fun in truth. In Caspian’s mind… These chats, whether they were real for her or hypothetical for him, it didn’t truly matter.
“Oh. My. God. Caspian. Jewel tone, it’s self-explanatory,” Belle waved she hand widely, “Ruby, Emerald, Saphire, dark and more saturate. Those bright pastel pinks and purples, I’m soooooooo over it.”
Finally remembering that she should eat. Her meal was far less glamorous than her friend’s lunch. Her dad had been busy again, his time split between his evening security job and his new passion writing. But that meant he was sleeping most mornings and writing most afternoons. So Belle had made her own lunch, which always took too much energy. So she’d just thrown anything into her sack that sounded okay. A pudding cup, snack crackers, a PB&J, baby carrots (the whole bag), and a partial bag of baking chocolate chips. She broke into the carrots, crunching loudly.
“You know, your skin tone in right for some really lovely greens… or maybe a metallic copper…” she hummed and tapped a carrot on her chin, “Would blue be too much? Either way you tots gotta let me do your makeup next time you sing. OH! Smokey eyes and blue lips!”
She grinned widely at him, vibrating with energy. She loved makeup, the louder the better. She’d been sent to the principle’s office many an occasion for her makeup in the first months of the school year. Finally, she had relented and kept it toned down to natural colors. With great reluctance. She loved the color theory, the application. The way it transformed the face. The way it was a mask against the world. The way she could make her face say what she often didn’t have the voice to say herself. How she could say ‘fuck you with a spoon’ with a perfectly winged point. Instead of looking in the mirror and just seeing a sad sham, a scared girl who was too dark and too male and too wrong to be wanted. A sad thing that had spent her whole life struggling and failing to make friends.
And god… part of her was still terrified about how Caspian would look at her if the mask was gone. She thought she knew him. Was nearly positive she could trust him. That he’d never reject her… but it had happened so often in her life. She’d thought again and again that she had made a new friend… only for her heart to get ripped out. But this was different, wasn’t it? Please… please… let this one stick. She needed more people in her life than her father and her childhood best friend, Mingan.
She barely gave Cas the time to speak before she slapped the table, standing in her excitement, “AH HA!” realizing what she did, her dark skin flushed and she collapsed back on the bench. Her smile lit up her whole face. Leaning in she tried to whisper, but was still far too loud, “That’s it Cas! You’re the music! All the best Disney movies are musicals. You should totally do all the songs! I can’t sing for shit but you’re amazing!”
Bluebell was in a mood. That made it sound like it wasn’t her normal state of being. Still, it remained that the teen was feeling restless. Navigating by moonlight and street lights, she followed what was now a familiar route. Seeing the pine woods approaching Bell followed the deer path that had become her secret place. Bouncing along with her headphones in and player tucked in the pocket of her ripped up jacket with the modified giant hood. When the trees parted into the clearing, she crouched low and set up the device in her backpack to cause the cameras of the security to fog with static. Hiding the device among the ferns she paused at the tree line and plotted her course. When she was sure no one would see her she sprinted for the fence, leaping to scale it like a monkey. Dropping to the other side with a parkour roll the blue teen rushed for the decorative trees. Peeking around she scanned the building for the correct window, judging which rooms were lit.
Her goal was on the second floor. The window open. Excellent. With a wicked grin, she delighted in how well her infiltration was going. Taking a deep breath she dropped to a sprinters stance and took off across the gravel path, leaping when she reached the wall. Pushing off the wall she leaped, her fingers just catching the ornate brickwork. Her combat boots gave her extra grip as she clutched onto the wall, fingers screaming in protest. Teeth gritted her reached up for the next hold, legs spread to find purchase as she scaled the wall. Huffing she finally pulled herself up into the windowsill, wiggling to get her legs inside.
Ungracefully she landed with a thud inside the window, with a soft hiss as she rubbed her shoulder. Looking around she wondered if anyone in the manor heard her. Holding her breath as she lay awkwardly on the floor. Waiting…
With a sigh of relief when no shout of alarm was raised, Bell shoved herself up to her feet and eased over to the door to the hall. Peeking out into the Scott Manor, she still marveled at how fancy everything was. In her spiked and studded clothing, she was an eyesore to its perfection. Not for the first time she had to resist the urge to draw curly mustaches on all the portraits. She had a sharpie on her and everything! To restrain the desire, she paused and looked into a shiny vase and drew one on herself again. A proper villain ‘stache!
Doing a quiet “bwahahaha” the beginning super villainess crept out into the hall towards the stairs. Edging up them and tiptoeing through the quiet manor house until she heard the music coming from her goal, the large bedroom in the East Wing. She held her breath, edging open the door as quiet as possible. The Heroine, her nemesis lay just inside… the perfect sneak attack!
Wynette Scott was laying on her stomach on her bed, chewing on the end of her pencil as she stared down at the papers and school books before her, feet kicking idly. She was distracted, thus giving the Great and powerful Megamind the advantage! Especially as the heroine was dressed in barely more than underwear (pink hearts, not the Belle was looking at that perfect ass) and an angel wing tank top that barely fit her broad torso.
Bell watched the hero sigh in frustration, chin dropping into her hand, the time was now!
Vibrating with excitement and energy, Bell stalked closer and closer. It was a fight, not the giggle and give herself away until she was in jumping range. Leaping wildly out, Bluebell landed on the larger girl’s back, “Not even cute undies will save you now, Hero!”
A gasp and yelp sounded under her as Wyn moved under her, shock turning to a playful growl. An inhuman sort of growl that sent shivers through the blue alien. Large hands grabbing her, Bell was spun and pinned to the bed beneath the heroine, now able to see the horrible wicked grin Wyn was sporting.
Metro Chick cooed, “You may have gotten the jump on me, but you’ll never overpower the likes of me~”
Bell wiggled under the heroine, sticking out her green painted bottom lip as Wyn easily overpowered her. She looked rather ridiculous, evilly so if she said so herself, with poison green lips and glittering gold eyeshadow and now a sharpie mustache. Thrusting out her much smaller chest, the blue alien smirked smugly, “What makes you think I’m not right where I wanted to be? Bwahahahaha! You’ve fallen right into my trap!”
Wyn raised an eyebrow as she looked over Bell and licking a thumb and tried to rub it off the mustache.
“Why do you even do this with permanent marker you numbnut.” Wyn snorted.
“Because I’m evil and you’re the helpless damsel!” Bell protested from her spot pinned under her secret girlfriend, “How else am I supposed to twirl my mustache while you’re tied up helplessly?”
“You can’t twirl this one either,” Wyn pointed out, sitting up, straddling the smaller girl with her arms crossed over her broad chest.
“Can too!” brilliant rebuttal, Bell chided herself.
With a sparkle in her eye, Wyn leaned down, lips hovering over Bell’s, “Prove it. I’m sure you brought the rope, right?”
My favorite trope is when two characters are in love and neither has admitted their feelings to each other yet, and then The One That’s Not In Denial™ gets hurt and The One That Is In Denial™ starts freaking out and suddenly is not in denial anymore.
RP backup 