being around her fellow heroes and trainers is a constant reminder of what happened that night at the museum. it has been non - stop training and crisis management around the nsa headquarters and mizuse just needs to take her mind off of it. with a fearsome thunderstorm outside, it isn’t wise for mizuse to simply run around the island ( her mother constantly found herself saying “ i don’t care how fast you are — you will still get a cold ! ” ) to get her mind off of things. she loves running in the rain. however, now she is stuck in the nsa facilities, so the speedster decides to use the nsa employee workout room instead of the one that the heroes are supposed to use. i guess watching the rain from the expansive windows will do. however, someone has beaten mizuse to the row of treadmills — the skull man. she hadn’t been there for too long before cecil notices her observing his near - perfect running form. hey, she does possess a degree in biomechanics ! she can tell better than anyone ! musings are cut short by cecil’s comment, having the young hero blink in surprise that he noticed her. surprise is soon painted over by amusement, a hand placed on her hip. ❛ oh, is that a hint that you’re hiring ? ❜ mizuse ventures further into the gym, light on her feet, and leans against an adjacent treadmill. ❛ i wasn’t trying to be sneaky. you wouldn’t even see or hear me coming. ❜ she adds even if cecil already knows ( he knows everything ). ❛ i could fit right in, don’t cha’ think ? ❜
where: nsa facilities who: @kyllini
cecil does his best thinking - as most people do - away from everyone else. it’s not the reason he took up distance running, but the running makes it easier to think. makes it easier to not have to talk to people though, regrettably, when he has to use a gym that’s not always the case. the thunderstorm bottoming out over novus keeps him inside; oxygen mask securely in place and pale eyes focusing on nothing but said storm pummeling the city while he runs on a treadmill in the comfort of the nsa’s facilities. the media may have moved on from buchanan’s catastrophe (and accepted the truth kronos supplied), but he hasn’t. and won’t. still, it’s hard for him to focus on it when he can feel (and see, thanks to the reflection of mizuse in the window) someone watching him. he slow the treadmill to a fast walk, removing the restrictive mask as he does before wiping sweat from his face with a towel. “if you’ve grown bored of sentinel and are trying to join my division, you’ll have to be sneakier than that, mizuse.”
hands on hips and glossed brims twisted in a subtle pout, mizuse is finally intercepted by the one person she has been procrastinating on an important visit ( it’s a bit of guilt breaking the latest thing he built ). and of course zayid would go out of his way to find her at a formal event. sepia hues flicker to the device revealed in his palm, interest veiled on her visage by a guilty “ oops ” at his emphasis. mizuse knows exactly the expression painted across his countenance insinuates, and it even ignites a twinkle of her own curiosity. ❛ zayid, i’m in a very expensive dress and heels, ❜ mizuse is definitely not well dressed for a test - run ( nor is she allowed to use her abilities in any way ), but she reaches for the earbud for inspection. she has been so good so far tonight, but good behavior was bound to be put to an end soon. swift hues flicker around for any sort of security guard that may be in earshot of her conversation—or even cameras—as she quietly adds, ❛ … you really want to test this out NOW ? ❜
for: @kyllini. date: january 7, 2040. location: buchanan’s gala.
“had you come to HQ the first time i asked you to, we wouldn’t have to do this today.”
zayid’s tone is laced with impatience, the unusualness of which is further highlighted by the strictness of his voice as he gives mizuse a look that is supposed to tell her he won’t accept no for an answer tonight. when he’s satisfied with her response (or lack thereof) he uncurls his fist to display a suspiciously tiny device—an earbud, to be precise—his earlier demeanor soon replaced by a proud grin as he locks eyes with the young superhero. “i repaired and fine-tuned it after it broke the last time,” he says, stopping only briefly to emphasize the word broke before returning to his previous smile, “it should be able to withstand the cold at high speed now.”
which is to say: we need to go out and test it right now immediately.
“—right.” suzu arches an eyebrow at mizuse’s denial and suppresses an amused smile. “well, you’re doing a good job of fooling everyone else, i’ll give you that.” she sips her drink, gaze traveling across the crowd, humming in agreement as mizuse explains her father’s absence. “you can tell him all about it later. he’ll probably love to hear it.” in her peripheral vision, she notices mizuse stepping closer, fingers fidgeting with silver jewelry, and suzu turns to fully face the young hero. “i didn’t, no.” better to be blunt than raise false hope. “sorry, i wish i had. it’s just as much of a surprise to you as it is to me.” still, she doesn’t elaborate on her own frustration, irritated by the fact she could’ve known but didn’t. no rumors, no whispers of a super serum finally more than a false promise—how tight of a hold does kronos have on this? but it’s nothing mizuse should worry about; suzu’s problems are her own, and she’d rather not drag mizuse into the intricacies of it.
“but barring that, how does it feel to be at your first official event?” she asks, mocking the tone of the journalist with a grin. beneath the teasing lies pride for what mizuse’s become, even if she thought the speedster would be better off in crux. “do you think it was worth it?” her tone turns serious, more contemplative. “all the training?”
there is no necessity for an apology. it seems like everybody here was blindsided by the announcement by the kronos ceo. the grin on her countenance blossoms from consolation ( of course mizuse notices the vexation swirling within the bluntness of the answer that she did not want to give the younger ) to the charismatic self - assurance and relaxed simper. ❛ this is easy - peasy, ❜ mizuse answers with a scoff. the amount of media training she had to suffer through years holed up in the nsa training facility has prepared her for … most of this. what mizuse has is an EDGE — able to think quickly on her feet and have the inability to be visibly fazed by most surprises and stressful situations. however, this speedster is still human and cannot be blasé towards everything, especially towards the discreet, tense mannerisms and underlying meaning in teasing words. optics flit around the ballroom, surrounded by the nsa’s super - powered greats and novus’ influential. holding her father’s hand at similar events, wow’d by the same people instead of being the one to work with them only seems like it was yesterday. ❛ of course the training was worth it, ❜ mizuse’s gaze shifts back towards the vigilante with a gratified smile and sigh of content ( relief the grueling training has ended ). ❛ i learned how to be the FASTEST. i reached speeds that would’ve taken me years to accomplish if i didn’t have that training, y’know ? maybe with a bit more experience being an official hero, i can become too fast at saving novus so heroes can be a little bored for once, ❜ she quips with a soft chuckle, only suzu being able to witness the reveal an altruistic side of the younger. mizuse strives to be one of THE BEST — to ensure a safer society and also lift some of the overwhelming responsibility off her veteran mentors. ❛ and you taught things that they couldn’t have. you’re one of the reasons why i’m able to be here tonight. ❜
𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗡'𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔 — mizuse sachikaze attended robert buchanan’s new year’s gala on january 7th dressed in a vintage alexandre vauthier couture gown. this was the young hero’s first attendance at a formal event as a member of team sentinel.
mizuse is collecting hors d’oeruves on a small plate with the paragon hero at her side. with all of this standing around, nerves churning her stomach, and the necessity to consume some calories — she can’t resist. the choices are OVERWHELMING, fingers wiggling in enticement as she reaches for a bruschetta. she brings it to her brims, biting into it with a CRUNCH ! as baz turns to blurt out a vexed question directed towards her. brows raise, gaze shifting from him to the twins across the extravagant ballroom showcasing their injected abilities as she chews. ❛ i mean, they’re usin’ their powers right in front of us. the serum works, ❜ mizuse answers once she swallows and pivots her attention back to baz, using him and his skepticism to freely bounce hypotheses off of. show a not so easily accessible side of the young hero. it wouldn’t be the first time she’d talk his ear off or encourage him to continue a rant. ❛ i wonder if it’s temporary. if they have a weak constitution and weren’t MADE to handle whatever injected power they got, use over time will have a huge side effects on ‘em, ❜ a hum of thought and then a shrug of exposed shoulders. ❛ we’ll just have to see. ❜ sentence ends with another bite to finish off the toasted italian bread.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐒 @ 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀 — 𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡
mizuse stops right in her tracks at the sound of kiran’s voice echoing down the hall. she pivots to face him with a grin, it continuing to grow across her visage at the sight of a bag of peach - flavored gummies revealed from within his pocket. ❛ oh ! thank you ! ❜ with an elated gasp, mizuse takes the bag from his grasp to admire its packaging. ❛ resorting to bribery to get me to stop for a chat ? ❜ the speedster jests as she flickers her gaze back up to kiran and opens the plastic to snatch a piece of candy and pops one into her mouth. mizuse then laughs as she adds, ❛ i always have time for you, kiran. ❜ she extends her hand holding the bag to offer him a piece.
at nsa headquarters with @kyllini
"mizuse, finally!"
he's a little breathless, having darted down the hall before the speedster could disappear. it still takes a few moments for his breathing to even, but as it does, he extracts one of her favorite snacks from the inside of his suit pocket.
"snagged this for you. got any time to catch up with your favorite trainer?"
❛ oh, anytime ! ❜ mizuse immediately picks up on the gesture, swiveling to walk the opposite direction of the group of office employees. how are you doing ? a question EVERYONE is asking. it has the speedster internally grimace; however, her visage displays a nonchalant smile and a shrug of slender shoulders. she’s fine. she HAS to be. the continuous training seems like punishment after the incident she failed to stop in time, but it’s to just get better .. faster .. stronger, so she can next time right ? it's the reason she is in sentinel and not paragon. ❛ i’m doing just fine ! have they shown you the latest analytics from my training this week yet ? i’m totally kicking ass. ❜
"not so much a bribe but a guarantee," he teases. his laughter meets hers, a hearkening back to days of training. he will never deny the swell of pride as she takes on the role of sentinel, but he cannot ignore the twinge of sadness either. it happens with all his former trainees, but mizuse's training sessions were always a delight. challenging to develop, but always exciting to witness her execute.
kiran smiles as she holds the bag to him, plucking a gummy from the pack. "thank you -- for this and for your time." eyes flicking to down the hall to the other workers mingling, he tips his head the opposite way. let's walk and talk.
"i wanted to check in and see how you're holding up. really --- how are you doing?"
it is all a facade — it’s what five years of training within the nsa and observing her father veil emotions ever since she had met him. mizuse engrossed in conversation with an avid journalist wanting to pick apart a rookie after a shocking revelation; however, the speedster is ALWAYS one step ahead. blasé smile, an occasional sip of her sparking beverage, maintaining eye - contact with the reporter … not revealing a thing. mizuse didn’t know how much longer she could stand here and deal with the interview, hues flickering for anything—anyone—more interesting she could point them out to. after all, she is a newbie to all of this … and the fleet - foot’s patience is starting to wear thin. wings attach to her ankles subtly flutter, concealed by the material of her dress. next thing mizuse notices is her savior, suzu, approach the two of them and the journalist makes a hasty retreat. ❛ me ? nervous ? psh — ❜ mizuse grins with a dismissive wave and a shake of her head. ❛ dad didn’t want to attend. you and i both know he doesn’t like these sort of things, ❜ she answers, knowing the vigilante can see right through her act. grin slightly falters as mizuse steps closer to her, fiddling with silver jewelry wrapped around digits. suzu, adopting the role of big sister, is the source of information, motivation ... reassurance. ❛ … i’m guessing you didn’t hear anything about this. ❜
with : @kyllini location : buchanan’s gala, main room date : january 7, 2040
it’s easy to spot the familiar figure caught in a conversation she doesn’t want to be in. with how fast mizuse is, an escape should be as simple as running away—but the politics of playing nice make that a bit more complicated. suzu knows mizuse can take care of herself, but who would she be if she didn’t help out at least a little?
she cuts in between mizuse and the journalist with a winning smile, leaning in to whisper something that sends them off bolting. the disturbance gone, she turns to mizuse, an ease in her demeanor that comes with being in the presence of the younger woman. “don’t tell me hitsuto actually left you alone to fend off the sharks by yourself,” she teases. “nervous?” not that mizuse looks it—picture perfect and the spitting image of what a hero should be, slipstream is ready to face the crowd. “don’t be. no nsa script could’ve prepared you for this mess.”
an amused chortle emits from her nose at the comparison baz responds with, too busy indulging in the taste of fresh tomatoes and tangy balsamic vinegar, but still extends her plate towards her mentor if he’s interested in another piece. a crude way to put it, but he’s right — a true statement for many retorts in the conversations they’ve had bonding throughout mizuse’s years at the nsa. now a fresh graduate and focusing all of her time on being a part of sentinel, she has missed spending time with baz. a twinge of disappointment twists her heart the nsa doesn’t think she's READY to be a part of the paragon team, but this only fuels her determination to improve and demonstrate she can fit right in with the big leagues. mizuse can’t help but feel a bit of gratitude towards the twins for shifting all the attention to them, so the press wouldn’t be focused on her rookie debut or the celebrity status of paragon heroes. brows then raise at what comes next from baz, placing a hand on her sternum to feign offense as she grins up at him. ❛ ha ! that doesn’t sound like what happened during my 21st birthday party. i’m a responsible partier ! ❜ the hand leaves to close into a fist and nudge his closest bicep to her. ❛ do you mean that’s what happened during YOURS ? ❜
>his back rests comfortably against the bar, drink nursed in hand shaken through the fidgets of calloused fingers. darkened hues watch her with a familial warmth, humming in subtle agreement as mizuse continues to toss around her speculations. whatever this serum is, whoever it’s going to affect … he really couldn’t care less. nothing can replace the real thing : the birth lottery won by their enhanced genetics and years of training surely can’t be toppled by some magic in a bottle. especially not by a money-hungry mad scientist masking as an innovator. “ a shitty car works but doesn’t make it any less of a shitty ride, ” taking a piece from her plate, he pops it into his mouth without so much of another word. the sight of the two being so close is one that’s expected out of the two heroes, having been in training together for so long … even having the chance of seeing mizuse grow to be the formidable hero she is today. he’s now only mildly disappointed ( instead of immensely, quite different to his reaction during her graduation ) she isn’t by his side in paragon. “ and we’ll have front row seats to the inveitable trainwreck. it’s like binge drinking the first day you got legal … bound to puke all over the place and pass out in the street. sounds familiar ? ”
and so the little room was lost in sweet disaster. the walls, the ceiling, melted, c̶h̶a̶n̶g̶e̶d̶: instead of plaster an open sky ; and in a noon-day grecian sun, along the 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 yellow sands i saw you RUN. against your feet white buds of foam broke into ᵇˡᵒᵒᵐ. ( o stormy sea that 𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬𝑫 within the little room ! ) your speeding bod gleaned like bronze, most 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍, released from change & time, deathless, improbable. you were a stranger and i could not follow you, so FAST you ran 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 me, so quickly you ᴡɪᴛʜᴅʀᴇᴡ . . .
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