defenderofdesmoines | MCA #9 | Thursday Evening

So, Annie had almost made headway with feeling like she was normal again. She'd done a little crying on a friend a few weeks ago, and she'd at least addressed that things were bad and told Diego as much, even if she hadn't been able to bring herself to get all that specific. And while she was sort of settling into a routine, and had even managed to invite a bunch of people to Believe this weekend, she had been acting sort of...weird.

And she knew she was acting weird, because Annie felt weird. She was still having trouble feeling totally comfortable in her own skin, like she was still the same person she'd always been.

Not just with the...awful stuff. The Starlight stuff was almost as bad, in terms of making her just, like, endlessly question who she was and what she even wanted anymore. It didn't help to have your identity thrown into question right when you were already feeling confused.

Which, you know, was a little heavy for a sangria night, but Annie had mixed up a pitcher anyway. She could always just pour like, another cup of red wine in there if she felt like she needed it. And, honestly, as weird as she was sure she had come across when she'd suggested this to Summer, she wouldn't be surprised at all if Summer ended up bringing something harder.

Summer	There was no such thing as too heavy for sangria night; in Summer's opinion, that's sort of what sangria nights were supposed to be for. So she'd definitely mixed up a pitcher of her own to bring, as well as a smaller but stronger littler pitcher she was just going to call I seriously have a lot of almost empty bottles of rando shit in my apartment, let's just throw it all together for after we get through the sangria and taste is just, like, so not a factor. And with that, she shifted the pitchers into one arm for a moment to free up a hand enough to knock on the door.
Annie	Annie was so on edge that it was maybe a full two seconds before she was swinging the door open. "Hey," she said, trying for light and probably mostly just looking sort of awkward. "Come on in. You brought provisions." Good.
Summer	"Yeaaaahhhhhhh," said Summer, slowly, eyeing Annie and that definite awkwardness with curious suspicion, "call it a hunch, like, bartender and-or bestie senses tingling, or whatever, but I got the feeling they might be needed..."
Annie	"Your instincts are good," Annie assured her, waving her over towards the couch because Annie had thought ahead and had glasses and her own pitcher out and ready to go on the coffee table. "How are you?" Annie was basically vibrating with nervous, weird energy -- it wasn't that she didn't actually care how Summer was, but it was probably a touch more obvious than usual how that question was just purely automatic.
Summer	"Goooooooood..." Summer's voice was still locked into that slow, dragging out of vowels as she eyed Annie, eyed the set-up, and then was just going to go ahead and sit down while reaching over to pick up Annie's pitcher while setting down her own and going ahead and pouring some into one of those glasses. She figured, if Annie did the pouring, half of it might end up on the couch, and then they'd have to spend the evening shopping for new couches online, which didn't seem like a horrible thing, but it would definitely not be the thing they'd need to be doing that evening. She assumed. "Buuuuuuut," she said, handing the glass over to Annie first and foremost, "I have a feeling you're not going to say the same if I asked how you were doing. Or you would, but it would be total bullshit, and you're starting to make me think I should have brought pot, not wine." Any threads of snark in her voice drifted away, though, as she looked at Annie with concern. "You doing okay?"
Annie	"Oh my God, I could never smoke pot," Annie decided, taking the glass. "I think they might drug test at work." They so didn't, and Annie would eventually hang out with Queen Maeve enough to realize that. She took a deep breath, willing herself to focus a little, and shook her head. "I'm not," she admitted quietly, and took a sip of her sangria. "Things are kind of...bad, Summer. I -- like, with the new super-job, and all. Something bad happened." That had been her line with everyone else, so far. But she was going to try to actually tell Summer what the something bad was, if she could...find the words.
Summer	Okay, but for all the reasons Summer would have expected Annie to be all omg I could never smoke pot about? Drug testing at work was actually not one of them. But that was neither here nor there, because Summer was shifting on the couch for Full Attentiveness Mode, her eyes steady and intent on Annie with her free hand held out in case she needed to hold onto it. "Okay," she said, "so bad is definitely not good. Let's hear it. Or...do we need to work up to it a little, get through at least a glass or maybe two before we get there? Just remember, ripping off the band-aid is usually best, right?"
Annie	Annie considered that and took another long sip of her sangria. Because a glass or two might actually help with getting that band-aid to at least be rippable. "I haven't been able to talk about this with anyone," she admitted, cutting her eyes over to Summer's and taking a deep breath. "Like, I keep trying, and I keep -- not finding the words, so just like, bear with me? But, um. Okay. So, the very first day I was on The Seven, like, when they introduced me to the shareholders and stuff, my boss had one of my other, um, this other guy on the team show me around. Like a tour." There, that was normal enough. "His name is The Deep," she added slowly, and the note of venom that crept into her voice on his name might have been a little bit of a warning of what kind of story this was going to turn into. "His whole thing is he can, like, can talk to fish. Kind of really lame on the powers front, honestly."
Summer	Summer considered Annie for a moment, how she was all wound up, how she was building this particular story. "What?" she asked, with her own sip of sangria. "He make a move on you, or something?" It really didn't take a big stretch of the imagination at all. Annie was super cute, had that fresh bright-eyed newbie thing going on in spaaaades, and if Summer had gotten talks to fish in the superpower lottery, she'd probably feel the need to overcompensate like whoa, too.
Annie	Annie huffed out a little humorless breath of a laugh before slowly nodding. See, this was why she had needed to talk to Summer. "In a manner of speaking." She considered her sangria before neatly draining her glass for the courage to elaborate, and then added, "He took off his pants, started jerking off, and said that if I didn't blow him, he'd get me kicked off the team." There. No stuttering.
Summer	"Jesus." Was Summer surprised to find out that even superheroes could be complete and total dickwads? No, not in the slightest. Was she more than a little pissed off that anyone would try to pull that shit on Annie? Uhhh, yeah. "What an asshole." But some of that anger was making room for a great deal of concern as Summer looked over at Annie worriedly. And asked the million dollar question, while reaching for the pitcher so she could refill Annie's glass for her while she did. "So what did you do?" Somehow, Summer had the feeling that they wouldn't exactly be here with Annie making quick work of that sangria if the answer was kicked his pervert fucking ass, of course.
Annie	"I broke every screen in the conference room," Annie admitted with something almost like pride, shrugging a shoulder. "Which then gave him the opportunity to say he'd tell people I attacked him if I didn't do what he wanted." Annie swallowed a little thickly, pouring herself more sangria for something to do with her hands. "And I just...froze. Like, I wanted to kill him, and I could have, but like, I've also wanted to be on The Seven my entire life. Or at least, I thought I did...." Because that was the thing. It wasn't really what she'd thought it would be, either. None of this had been what she'd thought it would be.
Summer	A small, proud smirk for the thought of Annie sparking out a bunch of screens (she assumed there would be at least a few!) managed to show up on Summer's face briefly before the follow-up just swept it away with a disgusted grunt. Another soft shake of her head, and another worried crease in her brow as she ventured, "And then what?" Because no story ever ended with and then I just...froze. They could get into the glaring harshness of expectations versus reality after they got the complete picture laid out.
Annie	Annie was quiet for a second before replying, with clear and obvious shame, "Queen Maeve walked in and saved me from having to decide what to do." And that was the thing. Meeting Maeve that way, having Maeve immediately downplay what had happened, all of that -- that was almost as awful to think about as what had happened with The Deep. But the part that Annie couldn't sit with was how she wasn't a hundred percent sure what she would have done if Maeve hadn't walked in. Whether she would have done it, just to stay on this team she wasn't even sure she wanted to be part of anymore. She cleared her throat, and added, "And, like, she saved me, I guess? But I should've been able to save me. Or at least, I should have known what to do."
Summer	"I'm sure you would have," said Summer, although she honestly wasn't that certain, "but, you know? Maybe it's kind of good you didn't have to? "And, for the record, don't forget, you have a very good friend with a portal gun who can dump a body literally anywhere." And that might have sounded like Summer's usual reliance on levity in situations like this if it weren't for the fact that her tone was so serious and dry, she immediately washed it down with a sip of her sangria. Space dust was clearly still too good for this guy, though.
Annie	"Might take you up on that," Annie said with a rueful little laugh, swirling the sangria in her glass thoughtfully. "They sent me on patrol with him a couple days later -- which is like, a whole other thing, 'cause that's something I do with Diego -- " And you know what, Annie was going to take a drink to cover the way her voice had broken a little on Diego's name -- it was a little bit that she hadn't told him any of this and didn't know how, but she was also still stinging from how Vought had gone and sullied patrolling while they were at it. Like, sure, it was an unconventional date night activity, but it had been theirs. "But anyway," she continued quickly, "I told The Deep then that if he ever tried to touch me again, I'd kill him." Or, specifically, that she'd burn his eyes out. "I think he's a little scared of me now." He'd better be.
Summer	"Good," sad Summer, after looking down into her cup for a moment and drinking down what remained, then reaching for a pitcher to fill it again. "He should be." And honestly? Burning out his eyes was so much better, because that he'd have to live with. "Sucks that you still have to work with this creep, though," she added. And that it would spread in a way to taint something that was special and meaningful like that. And the fact that that was a couple days after...and someone else knew... Summer's frown deepened. "You should say something," she said. Even though, yeah. Yeah. She was getting a pretty good idea of how that was going to go. But she had to at least say that.
Annie	"Like someone in charge?" Annie had thought about that. She really had. But -- yeah, she didn't think it was going to go well, and she thought Summer would probably get her reasons why. "Let me show you something, real quick." She set her sangria down, heading swiftly into her bedroom (on, let's be honest, slightly toddly legs already), and returned with a small swath of white-and-gold fabric in her hand. "You remember my Starlight outfit, right? This is what they have me wearing now." She held the bodysuit up against herself, nose wrinkling. "Like...this is how it is, there." So was anyone going to care that a gross guy had been gross at her? Uh, no, Annie doubted it, because they kind of were inviting grossness, now. Between Maeve's reaction and how Ashley had acted during the whole Race of the Century thing, Annie figured she'd get lip service at best.
Summer	Yeah, Summer already had a pretty strong feeling, but that was definitely the final nail in the certainty coffin. "Fuck, Annie," she breathed out, gawking slightly, because yeah. Yeah, that...said a whole lot for being so small, didn't it? "Why do you even want to be a part of this group again?" As soon as she said it, though, she winced at it and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand while waving it away with the other. "I know, I know," she said. "Childhood dreams, most elite and prestigious organization in your world, so on and so forth. Sometimes I forget how untainted you still are from not having to constantly stare down the existential crises of how the world sucks, reality sucks, everyone sucks, and most of your hopes and dreams will go to shit in the end..."
Annie	Annie sighed, setting the bodysuit aside and slumping against the wall in an uncharacteristic slouch. "I know," she admitted quietly. "I know. But I could do so much good, Summer." If they ever let her, anyway. "I'm making so much money, and I can donate so much of it, and -- I saved a girl a little while ago," she added, trying to find some good she could point to. Though, really, that had been out of uniform anyway, so it didn't really count, but.... "It's just -- I never saw any of this coming."
Summer	Oof. If that didn't just feel like a nice sympathetic punch to the gut, then, well, Summer didn't know what did, and she melted a little more where she sat and looked at Annie, feeling an odd contension between pity and envy. That Annie could still have her sights set on important, idealistic things like helping people and making a difference and believe it despite everything else. She gave her a soft smile, patted the couch to get her to come sit down again. "Like a ten-ton truck just full of shit," she offered. "Good thing if anyone's strong enough to take an impact like that, it's you, and maybe someone without their own head stuck up their ass really is what they could use right now. Because you probably are helping, in not just in the usual superhero ways, either..." Miss Only Second Woman on the Team in 20-fucking-21 over here. She shook her head, considered the costume again. "You think you'd get in trouble if something were to 'mysteriously' happen to it?" she asked, with a nod that way. "But it's probably, like, super flame-retardant and strong or something, right?" It could still totally be cathartic to at least try, maybe?
Annie	"You know, I haven't tried. I hope so, 'cause I also have to wear a wig with like, a ton of hairspray," Annie told her, going to sit down and idly throwing the costume onto the arm of the couch resentfully. "And like, push-up...things, and these stripper boots. Ugh, Summer, it's all so gross." That was the thing about all of it, really. About Vought and The Deep and the new expectations on her. It was all just so...sleazy, and no one questioned it but her. Like, Queen Maeve was portrayed as strong and beautiful -- even if Annie knew now that she was mostly resentful and bitter -- but Starlight was being reduced to this...bimbo with superpowers. "But we could totally try to set it on fire or something. Stuff it down the garbage disposal, maybe," she added, eyeing the garment thoughtfully. "They'll make me another -- I have, like, ten -- but." She slanted a look over at Summer again. "Might feel good to at least try." It wasn't like she didn't have a history of irrationally destroying objects as, like, a symbolic act.
Summer	Summer met that slanted glance with a crooked grin. "Come on," she said, setting down her glass and getting up off the couch, and holding out a hand, for Annie's hand in return or the glorified swimswuit costume, whichever one. "If anything, Travis is always complaining about not having enough to do around here, maybe we'll wind up at least giving everyone some excitement for the day. Let's torch this fucker." Like...totally symbolic. Totally cathartic. And honestly? Doing that thing a favor, because, ugh, who even designed that crap? Vought needed a makeover on a lot of things, but it might not hurt to start with their current wardrobe department.

[preplayed with the ever-fabulous

somethingwithturquoise, and while it is cool to say that the girls had a sangria night, contents of conversation are NFB. warning for discussion of sexual assault and OOC welcome!]