Strikeforce | Eirena Wilson (flaxseedstrike) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-02-22 19:43:00 |
|
|||
Felicity Hardy had been born and raised in Chicago with a private-investigator-slash-sort-of-superhero for a mom. When she’d graduated high school, she went on to college in New York City. She’d had an influential superhero blog that led to hosting a television show, and then she started a superhero career of her own. She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city, of having a wild schedule and having every minute penciled in and absolutely zero free time. She was a go-getter, an overachiever, a self-admitted morally-ambiguous slave to her ambitions. She was used to catching a twenty-minute nap and calling it a “good night’s rest,” while surviving on caffeine and the occasional dose of Adderall.
Here, was going nothing short of stir crazy.
The first week, she mostly slept. She hadn’t intended on it but her body was in need of a rest even if the hamster in the spinny wheel of her mind kept on going. She holed up in her room and watched the network, staring in horrified glee at everything that was happening. For a long time she’d been on the outside looking in. She’d met a lot of these people or interviewed their friends, but she’d never gotten the chance to see them really interact with one another.
The second week, she really started to notice that people straight-up didn’t like her. She figured it would be one or two people, a few haters in the group, but … she really had underestimated just how many people would have genuine dislike for her and her show. It was fluff journalism; what was the big deal? She wasn’t giving away secret identities, she wasn’t putting anyone’s life in danger. In fact, she was doing her part to protect them; she had a lot of knowledge she wasn’t giving away. But no, apparently the fact that she speculated on what kind of underwear Kenji Stark wore meant that she was terrible and not worthy to be part of the community.
She was a superhero, damn it, and not a bad one. Her mother was the Black Cat, close associate of Spider-Man for years. She had just as much right to be here as anyone else; she’d just grown up in another city.
Ugh.
If people didn’t like her, oh well. That was just too bad for them. She was on an extended vacation for the time being and she wasn’t going to let the kids of some second-string heroes bully her out. She’d just had her apartment bombed and her career destroyed and her secret identity blown. Please. A few people making fun of her was nothing.
In fact, she’d include it in her memoirs. The title was still a work in progress, but she knew a fall-from-grace story would fly off the shelves, particularly if it involved her stay at Xavier’s School and discussed the politics from within school grounds.
She’d found a spot alone in the library to work for the time being, fingers clacking away at a new MacBook keyboard (her old one had been destroyed in the bombing). She had one earbud in, while the other rested on the table and acted like a mini-speaker that was just loud enough to be irritating while it blasted a Pussycat Dolls playlist.
Eirena was, in many ways, the opposite of Felicity. She’d spent the majority of her adult life at Xavier’s - this was her home. Aside from attending university for her own degree, she lived at the school, watched siblings come and go, and had developed a healthy and comfortable rapport with both the staff and the students. Considering she grew up as a rascally troublemaker, it was exactly what she needed to grown into a responsible young woman.
But there was still that fighting spirit in her and she didn’t always approve of a lot of things or people that made themselves known at the school. For the most part, her attention remained on helping the kids she was tutoring, or, for those first several years, aiding Pella with her classes. Sometimes, though, the stress built up and she lashed out.
In truth, she had nothing personal against Felicity. Sure, there had been the occasional article here and there speculating nonsense about Deadpool, but Eirena had remained under the radar since her devil-may-care days. She didn’t know much about the woman at all. It had all come down to the timing of the affair: Felicity had arrived at a greatly inconvenient and stressful time for Eirena. Many of her friends were overwhelmed and exhausted, there were rumors about Olivier’s sister floating around that caused some mayhem (rumors which later proved to be true), there was her one-on-one work with all the students who’d been dealt physical and psychological wounds from the FoH attack, and then there was Emily. To say she was burned out and irritable was an understatement. And then Felicity showed up, pushed every single button (by pushing the buttons of those she cared about), and for some ungodly reason didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with it. So, yes, Eirena disliked her from day one.
Walking into the library, an assortment of math books in hand (she regularly cycled through the subjects to keep on top of her tutoring), Eirena heard the Pussycat Dolls before she saw the disgraced journalist. Already rolling her eyes, she peered around one of the bookshelves. Oh wonderful. Her eyes glanced sidelong to see there were a couple of nearby students who appeared to be distracted by the music but hadn’t taken it upon themselves to address the problem. So she walked over to Felicity and tapped her shoulder. “Hardy. Music’s too loud.”
By that point, Felicity was bobbing her head and wiggling her shoulders, more engrossed in rocking out than in typing. She was only holding back on a full-out lip synch because she knew she was in public. When Eirena tapped her on the shoulder, she shrieked.
“Oh, my God!” She spun around to face Eirena, tearing her earbud out. “Oh my God, you scared the crap out of me, you can’t just sneak up behind people like that and attack them from behind what are you thinking.” She pressed a hand against her chest like she could still her racing heart.
Felicity's exorbitant reaction startled Eirena right back, the last book she was holding flying out of her hands and smacking on the floor. She clenched her fists at her side, a long, low, angry breath exhaling through her nose.
"I'm thinking that this isn't the place for your pop star antics, so if you could take it elsewhere or turn down the volume, I won't have to escort you out. You feel me?"
Felicity raised her eyebrows, giving Eirena a slow once-over. You feel me? Really? With a smug expression, she made a show of very slowly cranking down the volume on her iPod. “Now that I’m no longer bothering you, do you mind if I get back to work?” she asked. Her eyes flickered down to the books on the floor.
Ugh.
She pulled her earbud out and moved from her chair, crouching down to pick up Eirena’s things. “Here,” she said grudgingly. As irritable as she sounded, she was at least doing the nice thing----and peeking a look at the titles while she did so.
Eirena didn’t know if she wanted to take Felicity’s small act of kindness at face value. Journalists weren’t phys ed professors. They were far more cunning, more of the hidden knife variety than of the guns blazing type. But she took the calculus book from her hands with a little less aggression anyway, though not wholly devoid of it.
“Thanks. The students’ll appreciate that.” High road, high road, she kept thinking to herself. No snarky comments, no passive-aggressive moods. Just a high road if she could manage it. With a nod of thanks, and hopefully farewell, Eirena moved to the bookshelf at Felicity’s right, staring straight ahead as she returned that book and began searching for others, trying hard to pretend the journalist was nonexistent.
Too bad.
“So what’s the deal with you and Olivier, huh?” Felicity asked, grinning like a cat who’d cornered a mouse. She folded her arms across her chest and looked on with delighted interest.
Eirena stopped filing books.
High road.
It took a good three or four seconds of thrumming her fingers agitatedly on the shelf before she turned around, working to keep the vexed expression out of her eyes. “There’s no deal.” Eirena shrugged, internally not at pleased at Felicity’s own body language. “He’s my assistant professor. We’re friends and he does good work. I respect the guy.”
Felicity raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Wow,” she said, shifting her weight onto her right foot, then her left. “That’s a really diplomatic and truly boring answer that I feel is completely untrue.” It was catty, but delivered with a tight smile. If she was hurt, it didn’t show. She could let things roll off her back, and it was perfectly natural for people not to trust her. That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to call people out on it.
Eirena’s eyes flicked up at the students who were within hearing range. It wasn’t like she ran around boasting about her relationships in front of the kids and the last thing she wanted was a bunch of freshmen giving her and Olivier funny looks before doing sprints. It didn’t help that, true or not, Felicity didn’t outwardly appear to be the type who was too big on discretion unless there was somebody vying for her big scoop.
“Is that your professional opinion?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, playing for skeptical, hiding her uneasiness.
“Oh, honey, please.” Felicity laughed quietly and moved to lean against the shelf that Eirena was currently browsing. “I make a living watching people and figuring them out. I also make a living listening in on things I shouldn’t listen in on, and whether or not I decide to spread that information is up to my discretion. But this?” She mimed zipping her lips. “It’s sweet that you think anyone would care. Olivier Lebeau is one truly fine piece of Louisiana hunk, and every girl loves a tragic backstory, so----Come on, how could you not be taking this opportunity?”
Oh hell no.
Who’d this snotty bitch think she was? ‘Up to my discretion’? Really? Eirena couldn’t vouch for every concern that passed by the hands of administration, but she damn well knew that if Felicity tried to start something, it’d take two words from Eirena to kick her the hell out. But fuck. High road. And maybe if Olivier learned she hadn’t bashed this woman’s teeth in when she had the opportunity, bonus sex. But at this point she knew nothing she could say would convince Felicity any differently of the nature of her relationship with the Monsieur. “For the record, there’s no opportunity being taken here. He’s not around because I have a love of drama or guys with tragic backstories. This isn’t like reading some shitty ninety-nine cent romance novel. He’s been through hell and he deserves to be treated like a person. So cut it out.”
Felicity whistled low, taking a moment to fix her hair like Eirena had gotten physical with her instead of verbal. “Really, if you talk to everyone like this it’s a wonder you have any friends,” she said. “We’re all people, aren’t we? And don’t we all deserve to be treated that way? Take a step back, sister, and dial down the bitch.”
She waited expectantly, looking up at Eirena with big blue eyes. “So you have a boyfriend. Big deal. We’re not talking SHIELD-level nuclear secrets.”
Says the girl who doesn’t have any friends. Eirena immediately thought, but felt badly about it. She’d been a snarling, angry kid, but she didn’t want to forge an adult life saying things that were better kept unsaid. Keeping her hands tight at her sides, she nodded slowly. “Just don’t...it’s a hard time for him, okay? You set him off last time and he had to go to the Danger Room. What you say and how you say it? It has repercussions.”
Felicity made a face, taking a moment to check her nails. “What I said last time? What on earth did I say last time?”
No. Felicity couldn’t be that dense. Hadn’t she ever lost someone? “Emily. You brought up Emily. Right after he...he lost her again.” Eirena’s gaze fell, momentarily, and then lifted again. “Don’t mention her. He doesn’t want to hear it from most people, least of all someone who doesn’t know him.” There were the other topics, too, like his sister’s pregnancy and the arrival of Tobias, but one step at a time.
“After he … what?” Felicity tipped her head to the side; she hadn’t been around for Emily’s return. Really, all she knew about was the Lebeau scandal some fifteen years ago. It wasn’t the kind of thing that made the news, but Felicity absolutely had found out about it. “Lost her again?”
Eirena hesitated. She was wary about revealing too much, both for Olivier’s and for the Revenant’s sakes. Was it wise to tell Felicity? But, she pondered, if it wasn’t heard from her, she’d find out some other way. “It’s hard to explain. The details are pretty unimportant, really, but she...uh, she came back. In a sense. The memory of her. And we all thought it was her, somehow miraculously alive again.” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Wasn’t the case. It was hard enough as it was before, but if you think somebody you loved’s come back from the dead, well...”
Shrugging, the professor slid a book off the shelf. “Not my place to say much more. Just...can I trust you? To not mention her to him again? ...Please?”
Felicity clicked her tongue against her teeth and pouted in an expression of sympathy, like she had to exaggerate the look just so Eirena knew she really did feel bad for all of them. “Ohhh, that’s awful,” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Boo, no wonder he’s having trouble, resurrections are the worst, am I right? Tch. Yes, okay, cross my heart, I won’t mention Emily to Olivier ever again.”
Whether or not Felicity got the message loud and clear from Eirena was no longer the issue. She grasped it. Didn’t mean that Eirena really liked the way Felicity responded, ‘tch’ and all, but then, that was nitpicking at this point. Something told her she wouldn’t like Felicity for a long time and would probably automatically find any reason to be annoyed with her. “Thanks.” Grabbing a book off the shelf, she thought for a moment and added: “It’s probably also better you don’t mention his sister’s pregnancy or Apex to him either. Pretty much anything that counts as a touchy subject.”
“So, what you’re saying is, sounds like everything is a touchy subject and I should never, ever speak to Olivier Lebeau under any circumstances,” said Felicity with a wry smile. “All ‘stay away from my boyfriend’, am I right?”
“Has nothing to do with whether or not he’s my boyfriend.” Not that Eirena would throw that word around so carelessly. They were undefined at this point and she was stodgily against labels. “And you can talk to him about anything else. The weather, for instance. Changes daily; you’ll always have something to say.” She sighed. “I can’t...dictate everything. You can talk to him. Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
Felicity flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Well, now that I have your permission,” she said tartly. She slipped away from the shelf and went back to her desk, tucking her earbuds back into her ears.
There were so many things Eirena wanted to do in that moment. Shake her till her head popped off, drop a book on the table just to spook her. Kick her chair out from under her. They were far from having met at any middle ground, but hell if she hadn’t been amazing at keeping her temper in check. This was one for the books.
Speaking of, Eirena turned around and gathered up as many texts as she could, muttering ‘high road’ under her breath on repeat as Felicity’s volume increased again. She exited the library as quickly as she could. The librarian could deal with this.