Intrustive Thoughts

Returning to her balcony and sitting in the cheap plastic chair she'd sat outside, glancing over at the empty one next to her. 

A smile more bitter than the tea in her hand crossing her face as she considered how it'd sat empty and always would. Deep inside she knew somehow that neither Phil, Tyler, nor any other would ever fill that void that'd been left behind by losing her entire species.

All she could ever do was find a human stand-in, someone who would hopefully manage their end of the psychic pressures that came with her.

It'd always be Steven in the end; Psyis sitting back and looking away as the man once again haunted her mind unbidden as if by fate.

It was painful to admit but they been inexplicably drawn back to each other since their younger days. She could blame it on the missions and time they'd shared together but really, it'd was something like an addiction. Just without the need on her end, without him things just began to take on the feeling that they were wrong.

Psyis had never missed Steven in the true sense, so much as she had been inflicted with the knowledge of his absence.

 She knew that the options were to settle for a human equivalent or a lifetime of loneliness. If that was the case, then she'd stay with what she knew and the one who knew her best.

As horrible as that sounded it was just the more comfortable offer, one she'd accept in a few more years. Hopefully by then Steven would have matured to some degree, finally settling down to at least play at being an adult like his adoptive father Stan.

Psyis reminding herself that it wasn't entirely Steven's fault he'd not taken well to the affluent upbringing as a younger teen.

Anger, angst, and the expansive bank-account enabling the growing adult to fully immerse himself in the nuevo-riche lifestyle with old money resources. The Thessian once again glancing at that cheap chair beside her thinking how on how much more comfortable it'd be to settle back on that posh balcony in Voltham.

At the same time, she also had a firm grasp on just how uncomfortable that balcony and lifestyle had made her at the same time.The way Steven seemed to unconsciously accept that vast disconnect between 'Steven' and who he really was inside: Dark Squire.

If he'd really just been an ignorant rich kid maybe she'd have never realized the two very different persona's she was trying to accept into her life.

Dark Squire was always going to be Dark Squire though, no matter what outfit or face he was wearing there would always be the 'mission'.

Stan had at least managed to temper his own personal issues by reigning them back under the guise of justice. Steven though would never turn off, the missions never stopped whereas justice could have its day. Closing her eyes tightly as she considered just what his mission was, controlling the idea of them. Steven using whatever misbegotten logic or excuse he could to keep her wrapped in his intentions to realize his idealized view of living the heroic lifestyle.

Nothing like the calm laid back life that she'd grown accustomed to and admittedly slightly bored of in Kansas, even if it was so often interrupted by some world ending calamity.

Maybe I'm just selfish or looking for the wrong things?

Psyis quietly considered, as even those moments had been filled with cows and corn and not exactly the human life, she'd watched being played out on the tiny television while feeding chickens. Mama Cent had always warned her that watching too much T.V. would rot her brain and maybe it had.

Rubbing a mottled finger at her temple Psyis blaming herself for how she just wasn't happy with any of it; Steven, Kansas, and even her life in Centropolis with its free music and bad tea.

Even now she was just settling for being alone and settling was the best she could do. Psyis focusing back on the music as she watched the shadows along the brick wall opposite her, leaning back in her seat. She'd inevitably go back to Steven, after she'd had a few years of just being her and enjoying the more human condition.

After that she'd need to pull the guise that Steven was building for himself over this period of her life. 

Dutifully burying it under the rug as she settled into the role he intended for her and her own career.

There were bigger things to consider at the end of it all, her position in the League and the people she owed for helping her get there. If she got back with Steven, it would at the very least pay those debits back. How many would really complain if they got hitched to some filthy rich human, just to kick back and enjoy their hero-Ing days?

If she just followed her bank account it didn't sound too bad either; no rent to pay, no more feeling guilty because she was teasing some poor boy for a few free toppings.

No longer need to worry about things as Psyis, because what were those personal issues in comparison to the bigger picture of The Miss Psyis. 

The woman sitting down the cup of tea and pulling her knees closer, tucking her head in-between them. Loosing herself a bit as the identity of who she knew the world expected her to be clashed against what she'd dreamed of, kicking herself for not even knowing what that dream had been.

Psyis sighing in the dark comfort she'd encircled herself with; wondering if out there in any of the multiverse's there was a version of her who truly felt like they had a choice. A dark chuckle of schadenfreude hitting her as someone else seemed to be experiencing the same helplessness just on a much smaller scale, as a song and not their whole life.

"Anyways, this one's called Wonderwall!" That familiar voice called out from the square that shared the same block. the Thessian smiling wondering if the singer felt the same way she did because it certainly sounded like it as he whispered under his breath. "...you tasteless shits."

The alien quietly looking up and blaming the unknown singer for being the soul reason the rainclouds had hung over her heart for the last few months even as she smiling brightly.

Only able to hear the tired exasperation they'd hidden back as they'd mocked the crowd because of her super hearing. Apparently, a bit upset that more than a few of those clapping had gathered, only waiting on him to perform that one song alone.

The heroine had to admit their way with words and imagery were incredibly imaginative compared to the rather mundane songs that littered the airwaves in comparison. Trash like 'Turn My Fire On' on topping the charts simply because they'd been produced by heroes like Jamie Torch the Human-Inferno.

This song certainly having more to it than the two or so words Jamie had tried to croon for his awards.

As if the singer had come from a world of deeper emotions and brighter colors that had helped them bring it to life.

Psyis even finding that after she'd heard the song so many times over the last few months she was quietly singing along despite the distastefully ironic lyrics. Looking down at the square as the song came to a close, she made a promise to herself that she'd go and find out who the singer was before she brought her time in Centropolis to a close.

There were years yet and there wasn't a human on this planet who could hide from her.

She'd just need to find the mind that was full of those wonderful songs.

Psyis deciding she'd find him, blame him for these stupid sad moments and then tell him it was OK to never sing that song again if he hated it that badly. Then she could check that off the list of things she'd wanted to do before she'd have to write Blane in as her last name.

At least one of them should have a choice of what they did in their lives.

Not singing a song was far easier than denying the family that'd helped you advance every step of your career. The sound of a knock at her door reminding Psyis that she'd need to sign away a lot more before she ever got to that point, quickly sprinting through the kitchen at the sound of familiar voice.

"Hey Miss P, I've got your subs!" Phil called out, standing in the hallway as he checked his appearance in the peephole super quick. Hoping that his curly red hair was evenly poof about and not squished because of that stupid hat his stupid boss made him wear.

The young boy wanting to look at least somewhat nice when the city's newest celebrity opened the door. Not that Miss Psyis hadn't been famous before, but the startlingly beautiful alien certainly hadn't been ordering subs from his dad's shop a few months ago before it been announced she was moving to his city.

The young man had been curious as to what Jamestone had been doing when the headlines ran, celebrating Centropolis getting their own major-league heroine. The gimmicky headline artist usually much more focused on writing hit pieces, certainly not dishing out clever names like 'The Centropolis Angel'.

Now Phil certainly understood just what had swayed the tasteful journalist having seen the Thessian woman in person. She certainly was as the name described, Phil stupidly not even thinking to keep his thoughts elsewhere as the door opened to reveal the woman that was running amok in his brain.

"Hey Phil," Psyis opened the door happily before swinging it back closed just a bit, the divider unfortunately not stopping the young man's thoughts or eyes. The Thessian immediately regretting wearing the stupid pajama bottoms, as fluffy as the material was it was also very stretch and tight fitting.

Psyis knew if she turned, she'd leave little to the imagination.

Already very happy that the oversized hoodie was covering anything in the front that might catch the kid's eyes as she wasn't even wearing a bra. She was confident it hadn't been that cold outside she knew nothing was showing for him to ogle right now, but it would only give him more of an excuse.

His fantasies coming non-consensually into her mind Psyis carefully reaching behind her to make sure the stupid words on her butt were covered as well. Pretending she was reaching for her purse while she made sure she wouldn't give the teen any further ideas about her to dream about.

Nice as the boy was, she wasn't going to shame him just as long as he stuck to thinking about it. thinking it.

Still, he could go watch a movie if he wanted a tip like that because that was the only place it was happening, no matter how coincidental her attire was.

The simple men's wallet she actually used floating its way outside of her bedroom, a psychic hand quickly bringing it from where it lay forgotten. Psyis actual hand pulling the hoodie down as far as she comfortably could without appearing nervously flirty, constantly monitoring Phil's thoughts.

"Its $18.99," Phil didn't realize where his eyes were as he held out the bag, simply stating the price as he watched Psyis quickly try and cover those hips.

Though the view of her shapely thighs poking out from under that poof of a hoodie was just as enticing to the young man, reminding him of some of the girls he'd actually attempt to flirt with instead of just dreaming about.

"Sure thing," Psyis nodded while she looked for the money, "As always you can keep the change but only as long as you're safe riding back, OK Phil?"

"I'll be fine, I walked today anyway Miss P." The delivery boy said a bit irritably as he considered how he hadn't been able to ride his bike through the packed shopping square lately.

"Why?" Psyis asked wanting a bit more information that the vague frustration and images of people that were crossing Phil's mind. Scenes of him taking a spill or crashing into various people playing past quickly as she considered that someone might be bullying the poor kid.

"Crowds a bit too thick with those buskers taking up the square down there." Phil explained in frustration. Not realizing that his complaints, and the fact he was now withholding food to complain, was irritating his favorite customer.

Instead, more focused on detailing just how hard he tried to solve the problem even getting his father involved, "Dad's tried to have them kicked out but their technically not causing a disturbance, yet."

"They don't seem so bad?" Psyis glanced back towards the balcony on instinct before whipping back around, her powers alerting her to the young man's eyes. Her tone reflecting her disappointment in Phil's wandering gaze as well as their treatment of the musicians, "I like the music."

"Sure, they sound great but as far as looks go?" With a bit of a laugh Phil held up the bad in explanation, watching as Psyis took it. The young man's still adolescent mind excusing his stereotyping as he acted worried about the family business, "Try selling sandwiches with a handful of homeless people right down the road and you'll see how quickly everyone loses their appetite."

"If it's affecting your dad's business the city should do something right?" Psyis took the bag and sit it on her kitchen counter careful not to turn this time.

Crossing her arms as she waited for an explanation already digging through Phils prejudice towards her source of free entertainment. Masking her own guilt in not paying for the show's she'd enjoyed, while the shoppers apparently were, by standing up for them now.

"I mean it is!" Phil nodded enthusiastically thinking that the actual Miss Psyis might come down to solve the issue at his family's shop.

Carefully tempering his imagination at what the alien meeting his folks could lead to as he watched her white brows furrow, words dying out into a weak excuse. "It's just kind of hard to prove that to a bunch of badges."

"Is the shop actually doing worse because of them?" Psyis raised a brow already knowing the answer, not surprised at how quickly any of the idle fantasies in the kids mind vanished.

Recalling how easily swayed Steven was back then. She knew that's the way they were at this age. As soon as she'd disagreed with some minor issue, they wanted to die on magically she wasn't the fantasy woman anymore.

"Its $18.99," Phil held up the bag again not wanting to have the same argument he'd had with his father. Fine, maybe the shop wasn't doing any worse because of the noise but still it was embarrassing to have a bunch of societies rejects sitting outside your door.

Rolling his eyes now instead of running them over Psyis as he played pretend. No longer interested in trying to imagine the very well-hidden curves under that hoodie.

If they're all the same, then at least mine has billions to spend.

Psyis kept the thought to herself, imagining Steven buying a record company and how she'd cut a deal with the singer outside. Show Phil just what happened when you started looking down on people. The psychic feeling more than a bit upset on their behalf after being similarly violated in another matter by the young man.

"Here, a twenty." Psyis held out the bill, nearly shutting the door before she'd finished wishing the young asshole well, "Be safe on your way back."

The alien once again chewing through the bitter point of her earlier thoughts as she unwrapped her lunch. The extra mushrooms and mozzarella no longer holding the same enticement they'd had before as she looked at the freshly toasted sandwiches.

Trying not to think of her new usual, the usual order the same usual cheap apartment and same usual life she'd asked to try living.

Mind already drawn to the city of Voltham where she'd agreed to go later tonight after Stan had gotten her to agree to working with them. Even as she'd yet to really settle into being Centropolis' heroine she was still crawling back to Voltham to be by the Blanes once more.

That bite going down as bitterly as her decisions; what was the point if she was just going to have to settle at the end of it anyway.