Forced Back into Focus

Psyis rubbed her arms trying to keep warm, the chill air in the upper atmosphere easily slipping past the meager insulation of her hoodie. Looking down at the winding pass that led to Blane Manor, a slightly lighter strip cut in the vast forest. Tucking her hands into her pocket she tried to keep the wind from creeping up along her midsection while descending. The frigid air was already working its way up along the denim around Psyis legs, the chill against her mottled skin causing her shiver a bit.

Dropping from thousands of feet above a small figure finally touched down on one of the well-lit balconies that had housed the Blane family for generations. Psyis looking at the decorative pots, now rather barren looking with the plant's greenery falling a month ago. The lands around the manor had always looked so full of life, it had taken the journey to adulthood for Psyis to realize otherwise.

Psyis recalled her younger days, when she'd been so easily taken in by the trickery. The younger naiver Psyis into believing she was partaking in the heights of humanity when she'd merely been playing at being second hand Voltham aristocracy. Going hand in hand with Steven to attend dinners and functions, those years forging an image that she'd tried to cast aside. Leaving Steven to experience the real world outside of the Kansas alien reserve the cents maintained and that manicured lifestyle of the Blane's.

Independence had earned her a wonderful little Centropolis apartment, and a depth of understanding on just how difficult it was to make it in the world as a hero. She could understand why Dark Night used a small part of his vast wealth maintaining that very cared for persona of being both a vivacious billionaire widower and imposing monarchical mogul of Voltham. The Blane's willing to burn untold sums to maintain that dynamic camouflage, so intricate that it'd even fooled her into ignoring all the warning signs.

Those false mirages of humanity that merely concealed a borderline justice disorder fading, painted over with the view of mercury's falling liquid lead. Reaching up slowly and pulling down her hood she let the cool air wrap around her neck, the gently breeze not nearly as cold now that she was at ground level.

Relaxing as November adjusted her hairstyle to its own preference thinking back on the slightly awkward but rather fun night she'd had on an entirely different planet. Red eyes looking out into the dark the coordinated trees manicured and cared for by the landscapers replacing them with the wild geysers of mercury. Thinking on someone else who'd taken an altogether different route in their life, living as a nomad among the other planets.

Despite Izime's strange ways he was a refreshing level of normal for being a hero, even if she included the toxin dealing there at towards the end. If it had been another life, maybe she too would have taken to the same nomadic space faring lifestyle instead of paying property taxes here on earth. Visiting mercury had been fun even if Izime had only taken them for a bit, and just like Constantinople had warned it was basically all business.

Thinking back the entire night had actually been fun, not the laugh along because the humans were laughing kind of fun. The teasing Cradle and that irritating enabling Izime had done to encourage the bird on further. Izime's joking about of getting caught by the 'big-shot heroes' who'd undoubtedly claim he'd corrupted her. Constantinople's teasing of the anti-social Izime, Psyis could even see some of what Constantinople had been talking about the whole time. From Izime's efforts for the galaxy to how one might think he was a bit like her, even sharing in some of his worries. Though it hadn't gone past that, she simply saw where the exorcist had drawn the similarities between them.

OK not too far past that, a slight chuckle filling the balcony, Psyis recalling Izime's stunned face when she had hit him in the parking garage. She'd just wanted to remind him who ran Centropolis, and he'd probably had no clue what she was doing. The mind reader getting a small giggle out of the fact she could still tell a little of what he'd felt, even more so when he'd blushed on the stairs; how she'd been the slightest bit pleased she'd caused it.

That back and forth as they'd tugged on that tension between them; fine, maybe she had been a bit flirty but they both had to a point, and it was undoubtedly Constantinople's fault. Thankfully that handshake had made things clear enough that Psyis knew it was just in good fun, at least that's what Psyis had made of it. Really that handshake was as clear as mud and it just felt like they were both playing on the uneasy tension Constantinople had caused.

Not that she had been against it in the end despite her original complaints, it was OK to be a bit flirty as long as they'd both been clear that nothing would come of it. Izime obviously feeling some of that same draw and chemistry during the night, be it before or after Constantinople had opened his mouth it didn't really matter. The slightly awkward bit of a ham Izime had turned into in front of the group had contrasted sweetly with the quiet timidness she'd been given. Those moments adding more layers to the complex personality she'd discovered in the alley that'd chastised her over wasting food.

All together adding up to a rather enjoyable person, regardless of his confirmed humanity. It had been hard to find that outside of the rare moment on a mission or between paparazzi shots lately. That fun time and easy laugh, someone she could be a person around and not a cape. Psyis wondering for a moment if she'd had the same effect on Izime at least somewhat, letting him maybe not relax but if he'd found anything he'd enjoyed in her.

A slight sigh that hinted of curiosity and worry escaping her as she looked towards the stars. Constantinople's words returning, did Izime even have time to look back down to the world where he belonged. Psyis a but sour thinking Izime would likely not even care to think about her beyond that handshake. Fearing that was the sign that she too would have to wait years before they'd once again share those moments as well.

That moment of a memory on mercury fading as another voice interrupted her unintentionally apprehensive sigh.

"Have fun?" The imagined view fading away completely as she turned to face Steven who stood arms crossed obviously irritated by the tone in his question. Still in his dark black outfit, banded armored vest unbuttoned splitting the bright red helmet sigil of Dark Squire in two as if he'd just gotten back from the orbital station.

"Steven please, just don't" Psyis tried to stop her ex. Her shoulders still pulled close as if holding the wisps of memory that remained, refusing to release that sweet tension in the face of Steven's ire. She was already slightly sore having had to turn Izime down knowing it just wouldn't be healthy for her or him. Psyis refused, not wanting to have words with the very reason she'd had to say no as well, "I don't want to argue with you, not tonight."

"Or ever again?" Steven shot back eager to drag his ex into the same vicious loop, ignoring Psyis' rolling eyes. Taking a step forward Steven sniffed, hoping his nose was lying as the breeze carried the scent of hard liquor towards him. "You actually drank?"

The sinking feeling Steven had since yesterday now becoming a full-on leak, disappointment pouring out of his heart as he looked at the woman who'd obviously let her heart wander. She'd wanted a break-up but they both knew this was just a break, now it was looking like she couldn't even keep to that.

Steven knew he shouldn't have let Constantinople talk him into leaving because something was bound to happen, it was easy to blame the exorcist's con skills, but Steven had seen it. Psyis hadn't left his side until Izime had called her to him, pulling her away with a simple shrug.

The psychic so easily swayed as soon as she'd found someone she couldn't read, leaving him for a more exciting game to play around with. Now Psyis thinking she could just as easily fool him, the heroine having none of the exorcist's skill with enchanting his words.

"I had a beer." Psyis gave a quick response, looking over and stepping back a bit. Not out of nervousness but irritation at Steven's attempts to continue micromanaging every single threat, risk, and detail in his life including her. Literally sniffing around her like some kind of human bloodhound as soon as she'd returned to use the room she'd accepted after Izime's first appearance.

"I smell hard liquor." Steven gave an audible sniff as he shook his head in disappointment. He'd hoped that Psyis of all people would know better than to do anything around the conman and the criminal Izime. Anger slipping through into his disappointment, asking Psyis why she'd try to deceive him. "Why lie, what else is there to hide?"

"I had a beer and a shot. What do you think I did?!" Psyis looked away from Stevens accusing gaze, trying to reinforce the boundary between them; did he really think she was that easy. Hoping her frustration finally seeped through to the emotionally constipated man, "Gods be damned Steven we broke up months ago because I didn't like this attitude, what is your problem tonight?!"

A bit of guilt cracking into Psyis defenses as she'd already admitted she could like Izime if things had been different, that crack only widening as she buried Constantinople's thoughts deeper inside. Covering them under the numbing emotional lashing that Steven was burdening her heart with.

"I care." Jabbing a thumb into his chest Steven growled defiantly at the woman he had once called more than fellow hero. Now he had to keep himself for consciously wondering if Dark Night was right that Psyis had been compromised emotionally or otherwise by this new interloper; a cheap shot flying from his mouth, "About this city, the people and you Psyis I still do."

Psyis at first taking the bait, wanting to set things straight on just how Steven managed his life. The man certainly didn't live he maintained, just like the trees that decorated the stupid gardens, the pots on the damned balcony and even Jenkins. Steven kept up appearance, tailored his life to keep both the looks and the persona. All so he could spend the majority of his time behind a mask, only removing it to highlight the fake Steven he'd sold the world.

"Control Steven, d-no. No, I said I'm not arguing with you so, I'm not." Psyis walked past Steven, throwing down her verbal gloves.

There were so many flaws in that thought process, it was something Radiation Man and Dark Night had gone rounds over already. At least James had found a way to actually live, having a wife and family who he'd move on with in his life. Stan hung up over the loss of a wife and his kids was certainly painful, but in comparison to your entire race it needed some perspective.

Psyis hoped she could move past Steven and not engage in the same debate. Walking towards the beautifully carved balcony doors and reaching for the brass handle. It was of little use as Steven kept pace right beside her, his longer legs easily giving him the lead in just a few steps.

Psyis knew she couldn't escape what was coming, Steven refusing to let her escape this talk.