capeandcowllogs | juliet, the dice was loaded from the start;

WHO: Parker Robbins & Misty Knight.
WHAT: Conversations over deeply troubled waters.
WHERE: Throughout the City, and maybe Saturn.
WHEN: January 12th, noon.
SUMMARY: Hey! Water! We're talking, here!

She had given him a haircut. He didn't protest -- the futility of protesting against Misty Knight's wishes was pretty clear to Parker. Still, it felt weird to hold his head without the weight, like a missing crown. He hadn't been focused on personal care since he had escaped SHIELD detainment.

Months ago.

"So," he said, shifting in his chair. The snow outside fogged the streets, and many people sought the warm glow of inside coffee shops. These two weren't the exception. This wasn't a change he was keen on -- after coming out of the desert, hitting New York in the dead of winter (in cargo shorts) had been a terrible mishap. Parker idly thought about changing the weather, if only for his own comfort. As long as he kept the chess-obsessed Porter-harpy happy, it seemed, he was golden with power and without consequence. His fingers tapped against the table, hand close to Misty's own. The vibration sent shivers into his cup of water. Coffee didn't appeal much to Parker anymore -- it was nothing like the cloak, nothing like the Norn stones. Nothing like this.

"Guess it's kinda weird." He didn't mean to avoid her eye contact, but they both knew this was nearing. The Talk. His actions, her ideals. How he wasn't sorry for what he did, just how it turned out. But there was no escaping it, and the longer he waited the longer the bullet coiled.

"And kinda necessary. I guess." He guessed. Parker shook his head, unwilling to jump his own tracks. "So yeah, this, here? People know -- people being your Avenger friends -- and you know what? That doesn't scare me. That doesn't scare me 'cause I want y--"

"My name is Dihydrogen Monoxide and you killed my father! Prepare to die!"

Parker stared at Misty. For a while. A long while.

"-- Wait. What?"

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"This guy ain't funny? Shocker."

Other voices chimed in, from around the room: "Shocker! Shocker!"

"Hey!" Parker snapped, looking in varied directions. "Fuck off!" He looked back at Misty, eyes bright with indignation. "The fuck is that all about? I haven't killed anyone's dad."

Recently. Within the past few days, anyway.

"Don't mean some fucking ventriloquist or whatever can throw shit around like that for giggles," he continued, his volume rising. Perhaps he welcomed the distraction, knowing it delayed the inevitable, The Talk, for just a few more minutes. Perhaps he actually thought he was funny and just took extreme offense. Parker sneered, his eyes glowing brighter, redder.

"You drank him dry! You drank him in the shower, terrible way to die, terrible."

Parker narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the presumed source of the voice. His own water.

It was a little chorus of voices, rising and falling and sounding more and more pleased with themselves. The customers were looking just as bewildered. Several were holding up their cups, dipping their fingers into the water in confusion, eliciting shrieks of "Do you mind?"

The water was talking. The water was talking, and apparently blatantly mocking them all. Misty pinched the bridge of her nose. Was this really her life right now?

"What the hell is going on?" She looked back at him, eyes widening slightly as his eyes glowed red. "Honey, your eyes..."

"Turn around bright eyes..."

Oh god. Misty covered his water with her hand before it could get started on the verses.

"Every now and then I fall a-- Mmpph!"

Parker crossed his arms, looking pale, struck by a thought. His smile runs to quick recovery, and his places a hand over Misty's water-covering one.

"Just our luck, the water has terrible musical taste." He shrugged. "And probably terrible taste, am I right? I mean, New York."

The non-muffled waters shrieked insults, catering sneers and comments on Parker's smell. His snarl played prelude to a quiet mutter, and soon glasses were toppling over, felling the water.

Not that such a thing stopped it all from talking, of course. It dribbled down towards their table, cursing and bubbling, calling Parker a ruiner. He looked at Misty, surprised, as the cupped water started to shake.

"This is ridiculous. Of all the damn things..."

Something like this would happen. She flicked her fingers through the water, scattering droplets across the table, eliciting high-pitched shrieks. This might be by far the weirdest thing that had happened since she'd gotten dropped into this place.

"Mouthy things, aren't they?"

"I didn't seriously want this to happen," he said, glaring down at the droplets. They shivered, perhaps in attempt to give Parker a finger for his thoughts. "Damn things aren't supposed to be so literal."

The droplets squealed in laughter, a chiming noise that eerily echoed the whole store.

He grabbed a napkin, quickly sopping them up.

"You did this?"

Immediate line-face. Misty had been all ready to blame this on the Porter, or some other fool with magic gone haywire. She thinks of Parker's red eyes, and slaps a palm on the wet table, ignoring the squeals and shrieks of the water as it clings to her skin.

"Parker, what the hell is going on?"

He froze, staring at those feisty eyes before him. Crap, crap, that whole talking-to-himself-aloud habit he had inexplicably developed over the past months finally backfired.

"I -- uh."

"Oooooh you're in trouble! You're in trouble!" Rejoiced the nearest water pool. It rippled with anticipation.

"I got two infinity gems, from back home. I had them." He folded his arms, his face guarded. "Now, here? I have all of them."

"And you're doing what with them now? Making water talk?"

Her voice was tight with supressed anger, partly at herself for overlooking this, and partly at him, for carrying on with the same stupid shit that was no doubt landing him in more trouble at home.

And the water sticking to her palm was giggling shrilly, even as she wiped it off on a napkin. Nothing like having an audience.

"Just testin' the waters." The pun was unintentional, but he didn't apologize. In their deepest revenge, the water pools on the floor swarmed together right around Parker's shoe, slowly soaking it.

That didn't help his temper.

"And so what? It wasn't supposed to go in this direction, something fucked up. Something not in my design." He crunched at his paper cup, holding it tightly as something yellow glowed within his hand, embedded. The cup changed into revolver, then into a wine glass, then into a ruby.

"It's just adjusting to this world, is all."

"Design. Cause that doesn't sound like all kinds of stupid just waiting to happen. Didn't you learn a damn thing back home Parker? The hell are you trying to do?"

The other patrons of the cafe were just slowly packing up and leaving. Misty didn't blame them. She was about two seconds from flipping the table out of sheer irritation, and then who knew what would happen. The little magic trick didn't do anything to alleviate that irritation; if anything, it just made her angrier.

He was doing all of this, all this wild shit, and it was going to end just as badly, it had to. Why couldn't he just stop for once?

Her anger was evident. Parker stood, palms slamming on the table, staring at her. Needing her to understand, wanting it badly, considering just making her understand. Just a few words, making her understand, his hand glowing yellow --

But no, not that way. He'd try another first. Parker reached out, grabbing at Misty's hand, imploring her.

"I need this." He held her hand, tightly, his eyes nearly as hollow as his voice. "You don't know what I did for this, the emptiness before -- before I got the first one, every step was just working towards it. Every thought just, consumed. What it was like without it, when all my power deserted me, goddamn like losing a l--"

He didn't finish that sentence, catching himself just in time. The apology was etched in his face, if not his words.

"I am never gonna be powerless again, Misty. I will do whatever to keep it, I have to. I just have to."

Edited 2011-01-13 22:15 (UTC)

She yanked her hand away--Don't grab at me, she wanted to snap, but the words didn't come--torn between putting his ass through a wall or taking his head off. Her arm was a sore spot. It always would be, even now, all this time later.

But the truth of the matter was, when he put it that way, she understood. Understood what it was like to lose something so essential, something that you needed and depended on. Magic wasn't quite a limb, but being suddenly powerless, disabled, helpless, she understood that. Her own arm had been ripped off tiwce, and she remembered exactly how fucked up she'd been over it.

For a few minutes, she was quiet, just glaring at him, considering how best to word her reply. Hell, she was trying to figure out what sort of retort she even wanted to give. Her jaw was tight, and even the water seemed cowed, silent for once.

"Not wanting to be helpless is one thing. But it's what you're doing with those damn things that's gonna be the problem, I know it."

juliet, the dice was loaded from the start;

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