Suds, Subs, and Sorrows

The smell of city water and its slightly acrid treated chemicals filled the bathroom, along with steam as the stupid lyrics of the song which echoed around the cheap tile. A melodic voice reaching down into the deeper range of her vocals. Slightly off key as they stooped for an octave not suited for them.

Though it was certainly suited for the shower, Psyis belting out along with the pop idol Jamie Torch. Repeating the painfully repetitious chorus of Yea's and Uhn's. Incredibly glad that she unlike any of her neighbors could soundproof her apartment with her telekinetic shielding.

Giving a little wiggle as the water ran down her skin washing both the soap and embarrassment away, blue patterns shrinking to reveal purple. The alien growing more confident in her off key rendition of the latest pop hit.

Psyis accidentally singing a bit too enthusiastically and breathing in a some of the suds along her sides. A soft drawn-out cry of 'nooo' filling the bathroom instead as the odd taste of what was supposed to smell like strawberry-kiwi body wash swamped into her gills.

Psyis quickly reaching outside the curtain to grab a clean cloth while she coughed deep in her chest a few times. Watching as a few little puffs of suds floated out from just under the sides of her breasts.

Blowing bubbles like this wasn't nearly as funny as it had been when she was seven.

Splashing around in the tub at the Cent's and giving Mama Cent a conniption.

Psyis busily wiping at the thin slits that marked the breathing vents on the sides of her chest trying to remove the bubbles that were wafting the harsh smell back up through her nose. Finally breaking down she reached for the spray nozzle, a deep frown forming from purple lips.

The now adult woman not liking this part of accidentally messing up her bath-time any more than she had as a child. The feeling of water spraying through the membranes giving her no small amount of not-quite-ticklish discomfort. Psyis glad that the taste and smell would be vanish after they'd dried, the separate breathing organs not exactly designed for submerged water in the first place.

Her enthusiasm for relaxing in the shower now immediately taken away she quickly finished scrubbing up. Though much more carefully this time wanting to avoid any further mishaps as soap in the eyes sucked regardless of species. The thessian hurried, washing and conditioning the long white Mohawk she'd grown out. Running her fingers along the smooth sides of her head, feeling for any spots that'd need to be buzzed again.

Psyis wanting to ensure that at least her hair was remaining wild and independent.

Satisfied in her appearance and finally clean, Psyis quickly turned off the water and snatched the towel from the rack on the wall. Throwing the shower curtain back with a vengeance as the evil cold of a cheap apartment threatened to steal all the warmth she'd trapped inside with her. Dabbing at herself with the soft fluffiness as goosebumps ran along her blue stripes.

Psyis removed the now ice-like droplets with the warm towel.

Drying before carefully holding it over the side of the tub and stepping onto the bit that had curled on the floor. Getting a bathroom rug so she didn't have to stand on the freezing tiles had come second to owning these particularly fluffy towels. Scooting her feet about before drying them as well.

Psyis turned and threw the towel over the shower rod before sprinting to her room to change.

Grabbing her hoodie and quickly slipping it on, not even bothering with the bra she'd laid out before snagging the bovine patterned pajama bottoms Jack had gotten her last Christmas. The words "Moo Moo' distributed across each cheek of the milk-cow patterned bottoms. They were at least super fluffy and warm, even if they were mortifying to wear.

Her adoptive brother of sorts getting her the most comfortably uncomfortable pajama bottoms she'd ever admit to owning.

Psyis still refused to pull the matching top out from her drawer the gag gift just a bit too uncomfortable with where they'd printed 'Milk Me'.

Heading to the kitchen she recalled how Mama had also decided that was the absolute last year she was letting any of the older kids do gag gifts. Especially seeing as none of the farm raised children present had needed an explanation on just what the pun was.

They'd done the actual chore themselves.

The older woman nearly dying of shame as more than one child turned to their parents now asking the most awkward questions possible. Starting with whether or not their off-world two-toned cousin was milk-able at all. The purpose of the thessian's mammalian additions coming into question.

All while Jack was rolling on the floor trying not to accidentally laser anyone.

The young zexxian laughing so hard he'd almost lost control of his heat vision.

James and Leona simply standing there looking every bit like the city-parents who'd let their child bring the worlds troubles to the farm in a completely different manner than usual. It tended to be something more explosive and less explicit that came following Radiation Lad home. Leona looking like she was leading a press conference gone wrong, mouth moving with no answers available. His father James only trying to look disapproving as he'd had to stifle a giggle of his own.

Psyis tried not to think about how life had felt during those moments; the wonderfully tense perfection of a home packed to the brim with life and enjoyment. Simply leaving the memory of how Mama Cent had dragged James and Leona off behind. Abandoning it in her own much emptier and more lonesome Centropolis kitchen.

This wasn't the Cent's farmhouse obviously and thinking back on home like a child wouldn't help her move on with life.

Hell, the tea wasn't even as good when she made it here.

Stepping out onto the balcony Psyis let the cool November air wrap its fingers under the hem of her pajama pants as its other hand grabbed a fistful of steam from her cup. The Thessian glanced around the narrow alley that her balcony let out onto. It didn't offer much of a view, the area only a convenient side-benefit of needing to meet the code for having a fire-escape.

Still, since she'd moved here a few months ago the Centropolis Angel had found one lovely thing about her cheap apartment; it came with free music.

The volume might be lacking but still it seemed like every song was an original, full of emotions and the written with some of the most vivid lyrics she'd ever heard. A small silver lining in the dark cloud of decisions that'd lead to her living here. A striped hand pulling at the string that was attached to the bag idly while she blew Novembers chilly hands off her mug.

Closing her eyes and swaying with the lyrics the wind had twisted the Thessian took a sip of her tea, glancing out at the world she'd come to love. Not a native of Earth she'd still managed to grow upstate side after being discovered by Radiation Man, otherwise known as James Cent. Appearing as a child, misplaced by the psychic disturbance that had warped every other living Thessian away. Psyis had struggled to not only understand the world she'd arrived on, having difficulty with her own powers as well.

The Cent family, especially Mama Cent had helped her acclimate to this new world as the only surviving member of her species as if she'd been born for the task. The elderly Kansas woman already having run that particular gauntlet with her own adoptive son and the handful of off-world miscreants he'd managed to drag home since his first Zexxian pup.

Life from there had been full, both with its high moments like the day she'd finally been promoted from the Junior League of Planetary Saviors to its lows. One of which was the reason she was currently standing on the cheap narrow balcony rimmed in cheap black painted steel, Steven Blane.

The name causing Psyis to feel some disconnect with the new song below, turning back she opened the door once more deciding she'd make some lunch. Content to return to the balcony when the song fit her mood a bit better. No longer interested in listening to the soulful drawl echoing below, not feeling any of the same desires the singer did for their lost love.

She knew, looking back there had been signs that she'd ignored.

Growing pains in the relationship that shed allowed to turn into more, that or it was just her own inability to accept the reality of who she'd allowed into her life. Psyis sipping at the bitter infusion of leaves in her cup as she looked back on her choices as she headed towards her refrigerator.

There wasn't ever going to be that depth she'd wanted in that relationship, thinking she'd been swept away by a dynamic complex man.

Wanting to soak into who Steven was had been a shallow puddle compared to the dive she'd expected. Now dealing with the misbegotten expectations on what her love had been as it crashed into the reality of who Steven was; entirely one dimensional.

Even her own skin still reflected her indecisive complicated emotions on the issue, her pattern swimming like waves as it rolled between dominating colors of purple or blue.

Ignoring her changing colors Psyis instead sit her mug on the counter, opening the fridge so she could see just what leftovers she'd be trying to make edible today.

Finding several boxes the quickly administered sniff test had demanded she trash the idea quite literally.

Quickly grabbing the other three with similar but slightly more worn looking logos she immediately walked over to the trash and pitched them. At first lazy enough to consider the leftovers, grabbing a simple fried rice and throwing it in the microwave Psyis was left looking for another option.

"I'll order something," Psyis explained to the nobody who was listening as she shook her head in disappointment; the food choices feeling like an accurate representation of her life right now. A thing she'd sat down half finished.

Now just to let rot and fester instead of trying to actually replace or move on from.

 Convincing herself that she just didn't want to brave the chill outside of her apartment to get actual groceries and wasn't postponing the inevitable.

Besides she was paying to rent the damned place with nearly all of the left-over income earned from being a heroine so spending as much time ensured she got her money's worth. This was the more childish of the adult choices she'd allow herself at this moment and only a minor expense in comparison to the dignity she'd sacrifice if she crawled back to Steven so soon.

Seeing as she'd left the relationship, Steven had also stopped 'helping' her financially, not that he'd actually been helping in the first place. It was incredibly hard to ever try living alone and learning to budget when your then boyfriend would just pay your rent for the year or buy your entire apartment building. Not that the underpaid and overworked heroine had wanted access to the Blane's fortune in the first place.Psyis had even told Mama Cent she'd needed to make it on her own as a human in this world, wanted to live a life outside of the cape.

The old woman had just smirked as if Psyis had been crazy.

Psyis sighing slightly as she pulled the worn Sumsang from her pocket, tapping at the cracked screen a few times before it responded. Scrolling through her contacts towards the familiar sub-shop, ignoring the slight twinge that came to mind.

Idly noting the absence of Steven's name among the 'S'es as she scrolled towards her favorite sub-shop.

The alien taking some minor comfort that that little psychological tick over her ex had never reached her heart even after all the times they'd done this. It wasn't jealousy, pain, or anything actually emotionally driven.

It felt as oddly and irrationally natural as the need she was about to satisfy right now; the phone in her hand beginning to ring the familiar delivery-place.

"Two usuals?" The phone to the shop clicking with its usual prompt familiarity the person answering not even bothering to ask as the caller-ID had already tracked her rampant laziness.

Psyis took it as a blessing and not a sign that she was slacking off in her own desires to be independent and self-reliant; she was relying on herself to call the sub-shop after all!

"You know it Mr. P," Psyis giggled a bit as she heard the familiar voice answer the phone. Quickly adding something to the order while she casually filled her friend in on her plans, "Extra mushrooms and mozzarella please, I'm starving and going out of town to Voltham later tonight."

"You got it Miss P," The slightly high-pitched voice coming back as it cracked slightly with youthful nervous flirtation, the delivery boy obviously smitten with his celebrity regular. "Free of charge of course, anything for the Angel of Centropolis!"

"Thanks Phil," Psyis brushed her hair out of her face as she dropped her head. Hanging it slightly in embarrassment at the nickname.

Even more at the slight shame that suddenly dropped on her.

The idea of spending the extra five dollars for the extra toppings already weighing on her, now oddly heavier than the burden of saving lives in some way. The young boy who often delivered her sandwiches waving the fee more often than not hadn't been the only reason she'd called.

But it'd certainly been worth rolling the dice.

The kid was sweet, but puberty had Phil firmly convinced he was her diamond in the rough.

Especially now that Jamestone's tabloids had spilled the news about her and Steven.

Not that she'd intentionally advantaged that, but it was a little tidbit she'd stored away about the delivery boy. Just like Jamestone had stored away her name just so he could take a cheap shot at the web-slinger in N.Y.C. she'd tried to rebound with a few years back.

Tyler Tanner had been sweet enough and hadn't deserved the run-around relationship she'd offered, especially as that was all the poor guy got from anyone, ever.

Psyis briefly considering calling the ex-turned friend just to see how he was doing, Tyler always being good for a laugh if you needed someone to improve your mood. Instead deciding to walk back out to her balcony to see if the random shuffle of life had put something a little more enjoyable on.

Listening once more as different lower voice filled the alley, echoing through the tight corners with the reverb of accompanying instruments. Blinking for a moment as her ears tried to recognize the song, another original that'd never been played on any station she'd heard. Finally realizing that the lyrics weren't even English.

Whoever was singing being incredibly fluent as they rapped French.

 Nodding her head along to the stomping rhythm and twanging guitar as the voice from earlier returned to provide an understandable chorus.

Psyis considering like she had one the many days before venturing down into the little shopping square to see just who was providing the free live music. Once again, just like every time before deciding against it.

Considering some minor something that simply made the walk down not worth it.

Today it was the fact there was a delivery on the way, sure it might take Phil nearly thirty minutes to get here. Twenty-five of those spent just to make sure his little red frock of curls was poofed just the way he thought she liked, but still there was always something that kept her away.

Leaving the balcony open to let that voice inside so she could grab the cup of tea she'd left on her the counter. Psyis snatched the stupid 'I <3 Centropolis' mug from the little island that split the shared all-in-one kitchen, dining, and living room of her little apartment.