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Isabeau watches as his roommate frowns, the both of them piled in front of a small laptop screen. The laptop isn't particularly small for a laptop, but compared to Isabeau's own stature, let alone the two of them combined… It is a little cramped, to say the least.

"That's a big rent increase," Mirabelle says, nose scrunched up as she reads through the updated lease. A pause. "That's a big rent increase," she says, again, as she re-reads, as if she expected it to change between moments, like the email was all just some nightmare.

"That's a forty percent increase," Isabeau agrees, because it is, in fact, a big increase in rent - a frankly absurd one, in fact. The calculations are already running in his head, how much of his savings can go towards fulfilling this new rent, how much longer he can afford to stay here with Mirabelle.

He doesn't do much math nowadays, but it's still a knowledge - an instinct - ingrained into his very being, with only one conclusion:

The numbers are not promising.

Mirabelle shuts the laptop with a light snap, a stiffness to her shoulders as she turns around to properly face him. "Well," she declares. "Time to go apartment hunting."

The 'again' hangs, unspoken, between the both of them.

"Yeah… It was nice staying here," Isabeau sighs. "The view…"

"The convenience."

"The transport."

"The location."

He glances at her meaningfully. "The people…"

She laughs at that, a bright and cheerful thing. "You're the only person here important to me," Mirabelle smiles. "The other neighbours here are a little…" She pauses, clearly searching for a word polite enough by her standards. "Eccentric?"

"They're fine-eeee," Isabeau says, playfully, dragging out the final syllable for as long as possible. Mirabelle laughs, clearly disbelieving, and he caves. "Okay," he concedes. "They're not the friendliest people sometimes. I swear, there's this one lady who saw me and hated me on sight. You could see it in her eyes!"

"Really? You didn't tell me!"

He raises his hands defensively as Mirabelle's eyes flash, rings embedded in them. "I didn't think it was important???!?" The words come faster as her intense aura does not dissipate. "And it really wasn't! There's no need to fight someone about it!!!!"

She huffs. "Well," she says, decisively, even as her shoulders relax. "All the more reason to move out of here. All the pros in the world won't make a difference if they're just going to keep gouging the price."

There is no accusation in her words but he hears it in her voice nonetheless, sees it in the outlines of her shoulders. It's imagined, he knows, but sometimes that doesn't make a difference. Isabeau sighs, hunching in on himself. "I'll find a job soon," he promises, guilt heavy like a block of lead in his gut.

"Oh," Mirabelle says. "Don't worry about it! I can cover your part of the rent if need be, you know? You know being Espoirit pays far more than enough."

"It's not fair to you," he insists, waving her off. "I'll be back on my feet in no time at all," he continues, despite her disbelieving noises. "Just wait and see! I'll make rent on time and everything."

"So," Mirabelle says, over his shoulder, clearly bemused. "How're you finding your new job?"

Face-first in bed, feet sore, patience frayed thin and voice dry from negotiating with customers, Isabeau sighs.

"Retail is not my thing."

Two Peas In A Pod

14:27 MirabelleC: Why are all the two bedroom apartments so expensive????

14:28 MirabelleC: Isabeau, helpp

14:28 MirabelleC: Isabeau, you have to understand.

14:29 MirabelleC: Isabeau, this is a personalised purgatory for me.

14:30 KABOOM!!!: Mira I'm sure it's fine

14:30 MirabelleC: It's not fine!!!

14:31 KABOOM!!!: Look, I'll look at some three bedrooms flats

14:31 KABOOM!!!: I think they're more worthwhile on a price to person ratio?

14:32 KABOOM!!!: And we can see if we can find another person to live together with us

14:32 MirabelleC: THANK YOU

14:33 KABOOM!!!: Don't worry

14:33 KABOOM!!!: Hey

14:34 KABOOM!!!: Shouldn't you be on patrol right now

14:34 MirabelleC: …

14:34 MirabelleC: No?

14:35 KABOOM!!!: …

14:35 KABOOM!!!: Uh huh

14:35 MirabelleC: Don't "Uh-huh" me!!!

14:36 MirabelleC: Isabeau you can't do this to me.

14:36 KABOOM!!!: Uh huh

14:36 MirabelleC: ISABEAU

Vie Fortis Retires From Heroics

Many a people of Jouvente have fond memories of Vie Fortis - two time winner of the city's Hottest Hero poll and, more importantly, one of the city's most publicly beloved heroes. From simple memories of humour and entertainment to his role in taking down larger villains and aiding the city in times of crisis, Vie Fortis has always been a steady pillar of support for those who need it, as well as a wall of fortitude against those who wish harm upon others. Naturally, it comes as a surprise to many that the young hero is choosing to step down from his job as protector of the city.

The Defenders' Association of Heroes (DAH) has yet to give any official comment on Vie Fortis's reason for retirement. … …

[Read More]

"Remember the advertisement we put out?"

Isabeau hums in absentminded agreement, staring at the webpage blankly. Why is he here. Why is he doing this. He regrets every life decision ever that has led him to this point. Job searches are The Worst.

"Well, someone ended up calling me about it, and we chatted a bit over the phone."

What is he doing. Finding a job as a hero was so much easier than this. To be fair, finding a job as a hero moreso required going through that training course and not getting kicked out, and that is something he's really good at.

"And! I know you're busy with your job search and everything, so I decided to go meet him first!"

And by nature of being a hero, his portfolio isn't particularly suited to most other jobs. Half of them require a degree that he pointedly did not take, the other half require five years of experience in a field that he has never touched, and Isabeau is stuck, here, in the infinite cyclical middle ground, of being so qualified for a job he can never go back to, an organisation that he's burnt every bridge with, and nothing else.

"We met at a coffee shop earlier. They seem like a nice fella!"

Change, if he knew job searching was going to be this troublesome, if he knew how poorly he would gel with every other job in the job pool, he might have stuck with it, might have swallowed his morals and his pride and kept to what he's good at. Maybe he wouldn't be stuck here.

"He said his name was Siffrin, he/they."

…

…Haaaah, who is he trying to kid?

He had to resign. He had to go to the press. There's no way he could have just not done what he'd done once he found out. He wouldn't be Isabeau otherwise, would he? He wouldn't be the person he made himself out to be, would he?

No.

This was always going to happen.

This is the only way forward.

"I! Have a picture of them! If you'd like to see!"

Finally, finally, Isabeau looks up. Mirabelle's phone is brandished in front of his face, screen alight with the image of a person, lightless and darkless hair split half and half, a slender figure and a lean face.

Cute, he thinks, absentmindedly, and cuts that thought off where it stands. Instead, he smiles up at his friend. "Is that the final Mira-pinion? Seems like a nice fella?"

"Not just that!" She huffs at him. "He seemed kind of. Cool! And mysterious! And all things considered, I don't think they're the worst person to have as a roommate."

Isabeau laughs and mock bows the best he can while seated on the sofa with a laptop on his lap. Despite his careful manoeuvres, it tips anyway. He catches it as Mirabelle giggles and he beams up at her.

"Well, in that case," he says, grandly. "I trust and defer to your judgement, oh wise one."

She's happy and, sometimes, that's enough.

Being Fileu comes as easy as breathing.

Of course, this is in part due to Multisse. It's easy to become Fileu, to become someone noticeably different from Isabeau, when his power is to shapeshift. It's easy, when using Multisse is to hold himself in his own hands and twist, moulding himself into a complete other person. It's how he became Isabeau in the first place, after all, took himself and all the ugly bits and pieces and squished them together to make a new person.

It's not just Multisse, though. The other part of it is just that being Fileu is easy. Fileu is every neurotic urge that he's buried deep within himself when making Isabeau. Being Fileu is to endear himself to other people, to help people, to dedicate his life and well-being to making sure people love him for it. It's something to keep his hands and mind busy, something that he knows he can do, some little thing that can make the world a better place but also selfishly gives him a little bit of joy.

Being Fileu is not putting on a mask - it's removing one.

So, it's easy to style his hair spikier than usual, easy to buff his muscles and sketch a figure that's a little more unrealistic, a little more like a comic book superhero. It's easy to pull his goggles over his eyes, to drape and tie his sash around his torso, it's easy to square his shoulders and face the day.

It should be harder to slip out and under Mirabelle's watchful gaze. It should be, but it isn't. All he has to do is wait for Mirabelle to leave for her shift, Espoirit's soft heels clicking across the kitchen floor, before Isabeau himself slips out the window, fully adorned in Fileu's costume and mannerisms.

And Esporit - Mirabelle, more importantly - doesn't suspect a thing when Fileu shows up, exactly thirty minutes into her patrol.

"Fileu!" Mirabelle - Espoirit now, he reminds himself - says, waving cheerily at him. "I was expecting you."

Isabeau - Fileu, now, with all the changes he's made to himself - laughs, softer and less boisterous than his usual ones. "You always are," he says, fondly, trailing half a step behind her. It's habit - has been for longer than Fileu has existed - to do so. Espoirit doesn't comment on this unspoken ritual that should not belong to him, so neither does he.

"Well," she continues, bright and cheerful as Espoirit, as her persona always is. That's the difference between Espoirit and Fileu, between Mirabelle and Isabeau, isn't it? Espoirit is the mask, Fileu isn't. Isabeau is the mask, Mirabelle isn't.

Two sides to the same coin.

Espoirit smiles at him, unblinking "eyes" squinted up in a grin. There is no true eye contact here, not with her eye-like mask or his goggles, but it's fine. Isabeau can see all the little bits of Mirabelle under the mask anyway. He smiles back, mirror neurons and the need to make his best friend happy.

"Well, let's see who we can help today!"

Vie Fortis tells all about inner workings of the Defenders' Association of Heroes

In an exclusive interview with one of Jouvente's most publicly beloved heroes, Vie Fortis reveals shocking intricacies and work happening in the background of one of Jouvente's biggest hero agencies.

The newly retired hero claims the agency has a long history of corruption and dishonesty, with a paper trail detailing the unsavoury practices the Defenders' Association of Heroes (DAH) has been involved in. In this article, we break down the bombshells that Vie Fortis dropped and… … …

[Read More]

Sorry! The article you were looking for cannot be found. Please make sure the address was entered correctly and try again.

MirabelleC created Unnamed Group Chat

MirabelleC added KABOOM!!! to the group chat

MirabelleC added sisiffrin to the group chat

MirabelleC renamed Unnamed Group Chat to New Apartment!!!

11:21 MirabelleC: Hi everyone! It's Mirabelle. We're going to be moving in together next week, so I hope we're all prepared!

11:42 KABOOM!!!: Hi!!! I'm Isabeau. And @sisiffrin you must be Siffrin?

11:44 sisiffrin: yeah

11:44 sisiffrin: what gave it away lol

11:45 KABOOM!!!: Definitely not your name

11:45 sisiffrin: lol

11:45 sisiffrin: defo not that

11:46 KABOOM!!!: Absolutely not that

11:46 sisiffrin: yeah must be some other mysterious force

11:46 sisiffrin: some strange form of info

11:47 KABOOM!!!: Bizarre occurrences

11:47 sisiffrin: divine intervention

11:47 MirabelleC: What is happening

11:47 KABOOM!!!: A bit!!!

11:48 sisiffrin: we commit to the bit

11:48 MirabelleC: Why are there two of you now.

11:48 sisiffrin: wrong

11:48 sisiffrin: there are three of us

11:48 KABOOM!!!: Three idiots in a trenchcoat

11:49 KABOOM!!!: Actually.

KABOOM!!! renamed New Apartment!!! to Three Idiots In A Trench-House

11:50 MirabelleC: ISABEAU

11:50 sisiffrin: nice

"Do I look okay?" He asks. "Mira, do I look okay?"

Mirabelle turns to look at him, an entirely unimpressed expression plastered across her face. "You look fine, Isabeau," she says, turning back to checking her list and making sure that all their boxes and furniture made it to their new place. "Don't worry."

"Really?"

"Really," she reiterates.

"First impressions are important," he insists, turning on his phone camera to check his hair one more time. Nothing looks too out of place, and he satisfies himself with that. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to make sure I make a good one on them!"

"Isabeau," Mirabelle sighs, rolling her eyes fondly. "You spent a full hour last night making an entire conversation out of puns with him."

Isabeau fidgets with the hem of his shirt. Is it better tucked in or tucked out…? "I mean, yes, but that wasn't. Really the real first impression."

"You'll be fine."

Easy for you to say, he doesn't say, making the active choice to swallow his own words. "You've already met them," he says, instead. Tucking in looks better. Smarter. More put together. He tucks his shirt in. "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Isabeau, anyone who doesn't love and appreciate you is an idiot," Mirabelle says. "Siffrin will like you just fine."

He stares at her, she stares back, unflinchingly, a far cry from the anxious girl he first met. Of course, it's Mirabelle. She's still anxious sometimes, but not so much with him, and it's so very precious to him that she's this comfortable with him and Isabeau loves her so very much-

"Now, come," she says, making a 'come hither' gesture as she turns back to the boxes. "These boxes aren't going to unpack themselves."

Siffrin is both nothing like how they are online and exactly like they are online.

His smiles are small and fleeting, a lot quieter than their propensity for words over text, but their laughter is bright and boisterous. They had laughed that bright laughter when Isabeau made a joke about "Well, we better get to unpacking. Don't want to be boxed in, after all." and immediately he had followed up with slumping into a box of packing peanuts and a casual "Hey, don't box it till you try it".

As ridiculous as the jokes were, Isabeau couldn't help but laugh too.

(Hey, maybe Mirabelle was right and he had nothing to worry about, but he's not about to tell her that she was right!)

(He didn't need to. The fond look on her face as she reacted to their puns with outrage said enough.)

Patrol is quiet today.

It's not a relativity thing. The most exciting thing that's happened all patrol is when Fileu had to split up from Espoirit when they noticed their route was going to intersect with another hero's. Because he's a vigilante and she's a hero and that technically means he's against the law and that also maybe technically means that they shouldn't. Really. Be. Working together.

Even if it's an open secret.

But that split off took all of five minutes and, in that time, Fileu got to give awkward advice to someone on how to break up with their girlfriend! So! That was. …Interesting?

The boredom is clearly weighing on Espoirit as well.

It's the way there's that slight slouch in her shoulders. It's the way her gaze unfocuses and roams across the streets. It's the way she's normally so careful about personas and portrayals of personas and she's clearly not putting too much effort into that right now.

It's also, quite possibly, the heat.

Fileu watches as Espoirit stares longingly at an ice cream parlour and caves. She might not be able to leave patrol to get ice cream - seeing how this is her job and she is getting paid for this - but he can.

"I'm going to get some ice cream," he tells her, and watches her eyes widen in some sort of barely restrained surprise and glee. "What flavour do you want?"

He knows the answer before she says it. Of course he does, it's Mirabelle. He knows her like he knows the palm of his hand, knows her like the curvature of every line carved into it.

But he doesn't say it. He's not supposed to know, after all.

"Strawberry cheesecake," Espoirit says, exactly as he expected, eyes wide and pleading. "Please."

He laughs. "Of course," Fileu says, knowing the fondness dripping from his voice. "You continue with your thing and I'll catch up later, okay?"

She gives him a thumbs-up to match his own, and they split ways.

The ice cream parlour is pleasantly cool, and the employees a little bit starstruck to see him there, but he gets his two cones easily enough - a strawberry cheesecake for Espoirit and a chocolate chip cookie dough for himself.

He's barely left the door to the parlour when it happens.

A shadow drops in from above him, dark and sudden, and knocks his cones out of his hands. Fileu doesn't even get a moment to mourn the loss of his ice cream before he catches sight of the bright glint of metal heading towards him.

(By Drew)

He braces his arms, turns them to scales out of sheer instinct. The blades slide off, and the shadow retreats to a safer distance away from him, cape rippling ever so slightly in the breeze.

"Who are you," Fileu demands, bracing himself. "What do you want?"

The figure chuckles, bright and, honestly, in Fileu's humble opinion, slightly unhinged. "I don't know," they say, voice light as they step forward slowly, pointedly. "Who do you think I am? Attacking a hero in broad daylight?"

Fileu steels himself. "A villain," he says.

The villain claps slowly. "Correct!" They say, cheery as they step further into the light. "But not just that. Be ready to see far more of me, for I am not any old villain. I," the villain continues, pulling the brim of their hat down with one hand, an unsettling smile stretched across their masked face as their cape flutters in the breeze. "Am your nemesis."

Their masked face… …

…

"Is that a masquerade mask?" Fileu can't help but ask. It sure does look like one, lace draped below one side of the mask and the other half dotted with glittering rhinestones. He frowns, continuing. "I hate to burst your bubble but… Are you… sure about that? Did you think it through?"

Atmosphere ruined (and Fileu feels maybe slightly guilty about that but also, this is a villain??? He's pretty sure he's supposed to thwart all their evil plans), the villain makes an indigent noise of protest, gloved fingers tracing the feathers curved over the side of their face. They bristle a little, like an annoyed cat. "It's a good mask!"

It is a good mask, Fileu concedes. It looks carefully crafted, a beautiful dichotomy between dark and light, between extravagance and subtleties. But that's what it is - a carefully crafted piece of art, decorated with an obscene amount of detail for something that might see regular wear on the battlefield, where such delicate art pieces uh. Really shouldn't be.

"Well, yes," he agrees, because it is a good mask and, villain or not, the craftsmanship should be respected. "But you're not scared of it breaking or something…?" He tries, hesitantly.

His self-proclaimed nemesis lets out a bark of laughter, nose (and mask) upturned. Their mask catches the light just right, a kaleidoscope under the sunlight.

…

Isabeau firmly squashes any thoughts that arise from that scene, but he feels his cheeks warm anyway. It's the mask, okay?!?? It's a nice mask! On a nice face, as far as he can see, and-

His nemesis snickers into their hand as they collect themselves. "No," they say, decisively. "Someone like you might, but I know I won't break it."

"…Right," Isabeau - No, head in the game, Isabeau - Fileu says, doubt woven into every word, as should be. Because the cloaked figure in front of him is a villain. …And also his nemesis now?? He guesses???

Head in the game.

"So," he tries again. "What's your goal here?"

His nemesis stares at him, a blank smile on their face.

"Like," Fileu tries, words clumsy as he tries to explain himself, his thought process. Focus on the job, Fileu. "What evil plan is happening right now that I need to stop?"

"Oh," the villain says, voice blank.

(By Drew)

Then, suddenly cheery, "Well, why would I tell you such a thing?~"

What.

"What."

"You want me to tell you?" They lean in, upper brim of their hat just barely missing his eyebrows. "And spoil the surprise?"

Fileu blinks, caught a little off-guard. "Well. You, uh, already told me you exist? Wouldn't it be a lot easier to go about your evil plan or whatever if you didn't come up to me and proclaim to be my nemesis first?" Seems like basic Villainy 101 to him.

It does not, however, seem to be basic Villainy 101 to the actual villain standing in front of him. Maybe Fileu's missing something. Maybe basic Villainy 101 includes deciding on a nemesis, actually, and he doesn't actually know what he's talking about.

…Guess he really has a nemesis now?

"Well," his new nemesis hums, leaning back as they mull over his words. "Yes." Their voice is light and teasing, their hand on the rim of their large hat as they lift it ever so slightly. "But where's the fun in that?"

Um, the fun of success? Fileu thinks, and does not get to say, because in the blink of an eye, his nemesis darts forwards, blade at the ready. He raises his arms again, instinct driving him as he blocks it, the harsh sound of metal on keratin grates in his ears.

The villain snickers as they skid back, high-pitched like bells chiming, and Fileu takes his turn to leap forwards, arm outstretched with every intent to land a solid hit. The villain's form grows closer and closer, and-

He misses.

Or rather, he doesn't miss. His nemesis's form parts around his fist, wispy with light at the edges. Fileu looks up. There is no pain on their face, just a distantly bemused expression.

Then, their form explodes in a burst of light.

Fileu ducks his head, shields his eyes with his arm and, when the light fades enough for him to look back up, there's no one there.

"Teehee!~" Chimes a voice, mockingly playful right behind him. Their breath tickles his ear, and he jumps, spins around, met face to face with that infuriating feathered mask. The glee radiating through their entire form is undeniable, a casual confidence that Fileu just wishes he could embody.

"You missed," the villain continues, spinning a wickedly curved dagger in their hand. Their face, even partially obscured, lights up, a smirk pulling at the edge of their lips. "So, it’s my turn now!"

That's definitely not how it works, but there is no hesitation after their words, their arm wide in a slashing motion as they launch themself at Fileu. He doesn't stop to think either, raising his arms to block entirely instinctively. The villain smiles at him, teeth bared as they lean in, pushing down harder.

If Fileu's being honest, even if it doesn't actually cut through skin, the pressure kind of hurts a little.

He deflects the blade - angles his arm and lets the blade skid off his scales. His nemesis stumbles past him, a slight loss in balance, and the vigilante pivots about a foot, elbow ready for a strike. The villain ducks under it, spin-kicks their leg out in an attempt to knock him off balance. It doesn't connect - Fileu takes a safe step backwards to dodge it, enough for the villain to spin back up and follow the momentum into another dagger attack.

There's a sharp clang as metal meets metal, a familiar figure jumping into the fray to parry with an equally familiar rapier.

"Fileu! Everything okay?"

"All good," he calls back. Espoirit does not turn around, barely returning a grunt of acknowledgement as she sidesteps and strikes the villain first for a change.

They dodge, easily stepping back to avoid getting pierced through with the rapier, their footsteps nimble as they flee up a lamp post.

"Two versus one?" The villain muses, perched atop their vantage point. "And here I thought heroes are supposed to play fair."

"Not a hero," Fileu, a vigilante, corrects.

"What," the villain says, as if this is news to anyone.

"Um," Espoirit says, a perfectly eloquent picture of heroics and heroism.

Somehow, despite the mask, the befuddlement is written crystal-clear across their face. "Are you not the hero Vie Fortis?"

"Um!" Espoirit says, again, eyes darting between him and the villain.

"Um," Fileu, ex-hero Vie Fortis, says. "No?" He tries. There is no confidence in his words. He can feel Espoirit's stare at him. Oh, the talking he's going to have to do to talk his way out of this one? That talking is going to have to be pretty crabbing good.

The confusion on the villain's face only seems to grow. "But- But you look exactly like Vie Fortis?"

"No?" Fileu says. You know, like a liar.

Some frankly impressive noises of befuddlement escape the villain's mouth. Then, they shake their head rapidly, as if clearing it of flies, and stand to their full height atop the lamp post - an honestly amazing feat of balance. "It doesn't matter, I know when I'm outmatched." They pull their cape firmer around their shoulders. "But this won't be the last you'll see of me though, Vie Fortis or not."

"I'm Fileu," Fileu says.

"It doesn't matter!" The villain repeats, again, like that somehow makes the whole situation better. They spin around, cape flaring behind them as they do. "It's still not the last you'll see of me, Fileu! You better be prepared for our next meeting, because I will be!"

"Wait!" Fileu raises his hand as the villain turns to flee, and promptly cringes at his own actions. What is this? First grade? Either way, Espoirit is kind enough not to mention it, and he pushes through the mortification to ask his question as quickly as possible. "Before you go, do you happen to have a name?"

The villain freezes for a beat. The question hangs nebulously in the air between them. Fileu waits.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they pull something out from under their cloak and a flash of light floods Fileu's vision. There's a ringing in his ears as the flash grenade goes off.

By the time the spots in his vision fade, the villain is nowhere to be seen.

Espoirit approaches, slowly. "Fileu…?"

"…My ice cream…" Fileu says despondently, instead of answering the unasked question. He stares down at the puddles of cream - no longer iced, not after he dropped the cones and especially not in the humid heat of the summer sun. "I was really looking forward to it."

Espoirit laughs so hard that she chokes on it, and does not ask him about Vie Fortis.

So that's a bullet dodged.

Vigilantism: Filling Holes and Checking Blind Spots

In a city as abundant with hero agencies as Jouvente, there are plenty of heroes roaming the streets, protecting civilians from harm. Superheroes like Vouidvre, Espoirit and Flare Charge work hard to keep the city safe, but there are always blind spots that licensed heroes are unable to help with.

An interview with newly debuted supervillain Supernova sheds light on the different things well-known vigilantes like Fileu and lesser known ones like Serendipity do that licensed heroes cannot.

[Read More]

"Supernova, huh," Isabeau says, staring at the picture of the supervillain Supernova, printed across the top of the article. The supervillain Supernova who is, in fact, the villain that came up to him and declared themself his nemesis. "Well. They could have just told me."

pixofease
Reblogged buns-for-days

buns-for-days
hi did anyone else see vaugarde daily's article on vigilantes

8c8ra
do you mean the part where they quote a supervillain as a source

buns-for-days
YES. ABSOLUTE CRABSHIT BEHAVIOUR BTW???? like. like what. did they walk up to a supervillain and go "hey do you want to talk about vigilantes for my newspaper article" like

you cant tell me you're not obsessed with how that convo would have gone

8c8ra
okay but also does anyone else think it's weird supernova spent the entire interview talking about fileu specifically

8c8ra
[Image ID: A screenshot of tags on a reblog of this post, where user lightofmylife has added tags "#(holds figures of supernova and fileu) #(wedding officiant voice) now kiss"]

i can't say i didn't expect this.

but i can say that you guys work fast and that my disappointment is immeasurable

buns-for-days
[Image ID: A screenshot of tags on a reblog of this post, where user pixofease has added tags "#so whats their ship name #supelieu? starspinner? superspinner? #vote now on your phones"]

hi whats a star

buns-for-days
[Image ID: A screenshot of tags on a reblog of this post, where user viser-ignis has added tags "#STARSPINNER IS SUCH A GOOD NAME THO #stars and spinner… #spin the stars… #they work so well together"]

i repeat: whats a star

#yknow. stars. #theyre important

1,096 notes

"You look like you're having trouble," Supernova muses, lounging on a random ledge beneath someone's window.

Fileu ducks underneath a swipe of a dagger and kicks out the legs of another Supernova. The Supernova clone dissipates into thin air, leaving more clones and, presumably, an actual Supernova somewhere in there. Fileu knows there's an actual Supernova in here because there was definitely a moment where their dagger came a little too close for comfort and nearly slid between scales and into soft flesh.

So the only thing he really knows is that the Supernova on the windowsill is not the real one and that the real Supernova is in the crowd somewhere.

That's not nearly as much help as he would have liked, though.

"Need some help?" The Supernova clone laying on the windowsill calls out, amused. Fileu wonders, absentmindedly, how they manage to split their focus so well, how they manage to think about attacking and how they manage to handle so many illusory copies of themself at the same time. He wonders, briefly, what Espoirit might do with the power. Then, he does not really have the time to think at all.

He ducks under a knife swipe headed straight for his face and, when there is no breeze following the motion, he punches that clone and lets it break into scattered lights around his fist.

"No," he says, through short breaths. "I think I'm doing alright."

Supernova huffs. "You're so mean to me," they complain, their clone looking like they're about to be painted in a Renaissance-era drawing. "I offer you help out of the kindness of my heart and all you do is scorn me for it."

"Yeah," Fileu hisses through his teeth as another dagger comes a little too close for comfort. That one was real - he could feel the wind with it. "Try that again when you're not trying to slice my face into shreds and maybe I'll believe you a little more."

They gasp, and he can just imagine the faux-shocked expression on their face, the dramatic hand over their heart. Of course his nemesis would be someone like Supernova. Of course he would get a nemesis that thrives off of nothing but dramatics. Honestly, at this point, Fileu kind of suspects that this whole "supervillain" thing is just Supernova's way of chasing their high, the adrenaline seeker that they are.

"You accuse me of such a thing?" They say, faux-shock embedded in their very tone, just like Fileu expected. "You think I would really try to harm such a pretty face like yours?"

Fileu punches the one with the dagger (real). The Supernova on the windowsill flickers in the light and the Supernova in front of him (not a clone) doubles over slightly, gasps for air, and suddenly there are even more Supernova clones.

He groans. The Supernova on the windowsill solidifies once more, laughing. "Good one," they praise. "You got me! Teehee!!!"

Not for as long as Fileu would have liked. But it's fine, he thinks, it's Supernova and, to be honest, Supernova is not very much of a threat to public safety at all. Really, even petty crimes like mugging have more danger than what Fileu has gleaned from the supervillain from the few fights that they have picked with him.

…Maybe that's why Espoirit takes her time when he calls for backup now. Or at least, if she's there when the battle starts, she lets Supernova have their fun fighting him.

…Huh.

Actually, that explains a lot. It's probably exactly what's happening, now that he's thinking about it.

Speak of the devil-

"Fileu," Espoirit calls out. There's a note of humour in her tone and he looks around to try and find her. "Need some-"

Fileu's vision goes white with pain, dagger ripping through the flesh of his arm like paper. He grits his teeth and does not scream. Someone else screams for him instead, shrill voice ringing in his ears.

His hand flies up to the wound immediately, pressing down on it, putting pressure on it. Blood drips through his fingers and he hisses at the sharp burning sensation laced through the limb.

The various clones all dissipate instantly, leaving just the one real Supernova and a bloodied dagger.

"…I didn't think that would hit you. I thought you had your scales up," they say, slowly, audible distress in their voice and a barely disguised panic in their eyes as they repeat themself. "That wasn't supposed to hit you."

"Well it did!" Espoirit snaps, already by his side. Her hands tremble slightly over the wound. "F- Fileu? I'm sorry I didn't mean to distract you-" There is no true question asked, but the response tumbles from Fileu's mouth anyway.

"I'll be fine," he says. "Just let me-"

Supernova cuts in. "Uh. No, we can call this a victory for the heroes," they say, voice reedy with thinly veiled distress. "I'll go get uh- something."

They dart off, cape aflutter behind them. Fileu watches them leave.

"Your- You-" Espoirit's face scrunches up as she hesitates, clearly thinking over something, but also thinking better of it as she pivots. "Sit," she demands, instead. "Arm above your head."

He does as he's told. Briefly, he thinks about using Multisse, thinks about weaving a layer of skin over the open wound, stopping the bleeding, forcing his body to fix itself to his whims. Then, he thinks about how he used to do that a lot, as Vie Fortis.

"I have butterfly bandages," Fileu says, instead of giving away the fine line between his two identities. (Supernova was a fluke. He still has no clue how they would have guessed, but it's a fluke and he's not going to let Espoirit find out. He can't. It's for her own good and he can't let her find out, he can’t, he can't.)

Espoirit gives him a look. He cannot read the look and does not have much time to do so, attention stolen from him with a sharp breath as she wipes down the wound with an alcohol wipe. He hisses in pain and she mutters apologies under her breath and digs the butterfly bandages out of his own first aid pouch when she asks. 

Supernova drops in, at some point, when Espoirit is painstakingly trying to piece the edges of his skin back together. There’s a full (probably stolen???) first-aid kit in their hands. 

Espoirit hits them with a sharp glare.

Fileu watches, vaguely impressed, as Supernova drops the first-aid kit in the ground like a house cat dropping a dead rat at its owner’s feet, raising their hands in surrender as they back away slowly. Then, they turn and flee into the metropolitan maze that is Jouvente. 

Yeah, he can agree with that. Espoirit can be the one true victor of this fight.

"Isabeau," Mirabelle says, and he looks up at her, her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes roam over his form. Isabeau stares back, wide eyed and guileless.

"Ye-esss, Mira?" He says, voice light with a question.

Mirabelle shifts her weight between her feet, then sighs, perching herself on the armrest of their new couch. "How was last night?" She asks, finally.

"It was alright," Isabeau answers easily. "I had a good read before bed and everything!"

She frowns, disbelief etched into the corners of her mouth. "And, are you… Are you alright?"

Under his sleeves, the bandage wrappings burn harsh lines onto his skin. Isabeau smiles up at her regardless, lies like sugar on the tip of his tongue. "Of course," he says, cheerily. "Why wouldn't I be?" He flexes his arm, lets the muscle ripple under his loose sleeves and pointedly does not flinch at the stretch, at the residual pain flaring up at the exertion on the still-healing wound.

"I don't know???" Mirabelle shrugs, but there's a glint in her eyes, an unreadable emotion scribbled across her face as she glances at his arm. Isabeau, carefully, does not react to the undue attention. "Isn't there a reason you wouldn't be alright?"

Oh! Lots of negatives. A little bit confusing. It's alright though, because the words flow out of his mouth, as easily as breathing. "Of course not," he says.

Mirabelle stares at him. Isabeau stares back. Ooooh, he's so good at this. Ooooh, he knows Mirabelle's suspicious of him, but he's so going to talk his way out of this. Ooooh, butter would not melt in his mouth.

Suddenly, with a severity to her voice: "Do you think I'm stupid, Isabeau?"

HUHHHH????!??!

"HUHHH??!???!?" The sound escapes his mouth before he even really gets to process the words. "NO, no! Of course not! Mira, you're so smart and cool and intelligent and if I ever did anything to make you think otherwise-"

"You have to really think I'm an idiot," Mirabelle cuts in, voice steady as she does not look at him, talking over any of the instinctual protests that fall from his mouth. "Honestly, you resign from heroics and suddenly there's a new vigilante following me around- Isabeau, do you think I'm that stupid????"

"No!"

"Then what's with the lying and the hiding!" She turns to him, eyes watery with tears. He cannot tell if they're of sadness or if they're of anger, but it's hurt nonetheless. "Don't try to deny it - I'm not stupid, Isabeau! You don't have to tell me everything, but you know I can put the pieces together! Fileu is so obviously you, you both have the same build and height and the way you both talk, and you're both so similar it's practically written on the skylines and despite all that you're still lying and- And if you're lying, then- "

Her voice hitches, wavers.

"Then… Then do you just not trust me?"

There's a sharp edge of desperation in her voice as the question - and the underlying accusation - tumbles off of her tongue. It's like a slap across the face.

Isabeau can't help himself. "Of course I do!" comes spilling from his lips immediately. "Mira, of course I trust you!!"

"Then-"

"Mira," he says, seriously. "You knowing that I'm Fileu isn't the issue. Knowing that Vie Fortis is Fileu is the issue."

"What does that even mean!" Mirabelle cries out.

Isabeau gives her a careful, weighted look. Mirabelle stares back, and he watches as her chest heaves, deep breaths in and out as she tries to steady herself, ground herself. He knows the exact moment all the dots line up in her head - watches her eyes widen as the realisation hits her like a freight train.

"Oh," she says, eloquently. He nods.

"Ohhhhhhhhh!!!" She says, again. Eloquence levels are through the roof right now. "Oh, I wasn't thinking," Mirabelle says, face dark with embarrassment. "Change, I must have looked like such an idiot to you, with how much I was overreacting."

"NO!" Isabeau says, lying through his teeth. "Noooo, definitely not!" The laugh that escapes his mouth after is awkward and gives away the lie instantly. Mirabelle glares at him. He kind of wants to bury himself now - he's sure his face is almost as dark as Mirabelle's normally is - and settles for burying his face into his hands, feeling the heat of his cheeks burn into his fists. "…okaymaybejustalittlebit."

Despite everything, she laughs at him. Then, she pauses.

"Wait," she says, making a noise of confusion. "If you're so worried about that then don't?? Act like Vie?? When you're out as Fileu???"

"Mira!!" It's Isabeau's turn to laugh. She says it as if it's that simple to her, like it's the natural solution. "It's not obvious to most people??? It's only clear to you because you know me too well!"

Mirabelle stares at him, smiling blankly. "Sure," she says, slowly, hesitantly. "And your… nemesis's knowledge of it is…?"

"A fluke," Isabeau asserts, smiling too. He is so good at lying.

"Uh-huh," she says, scepticism laced through her voice and entire being. Never mind then. Mirabelle just knows him far too well. She offers an arm out. "Now give me your arm. I know Vie, I know Fileu, and I know you, so I know you probably changed the dressing but it would make me feel a lot better if I could check."

71-grasshoppers-in-a-jar
Reblogged krispyblogs

krispyblogs
hey how funny would it be if vie fortis hated the paperwork from heroics so much that its the reason he resigned and so now hes a vigilante somewhere. can you imagine

pixofease
Okay, OP I know you meant this as a joke but I think it's something worth thinking about.

We've all heard of Vie Fortis's retirement from heroics. No one really knows why, but I'm pretty sure we're all in agreement that it's a very early retirement and that it's not like Vie Fortis to just stop helping people.

Like

It's Vie Fortis we're talking about. The guy loves loves helping people. There's so many photos and articles and interviews that prove just that!

It's Vie Fortis. We all know Vie Fortis and Espoirit tend to team up frequently and consistently, their teamwork capabilities off the charts. It's a level of teamwork unheard of - they're not even from the same agency!

Anyway, Vie Fortis has resigned, but surely he's still on the scene somewhere, right?

Well.

Everyone.

Not long after Vie Fortis's resignation, a new vigilante has been spotted working together with Espoirit - not once, not twice, but essentially at least once every day.

I think the new vigilante Fileu is a little too familiar with Espoirit to not be Vie Fortis.

castlingchateaus
pix. my dearest darlingest moot. have you considered touching grass

#POST HAS BROKEN CONTAINMENT #EVERYONE SCATTER #help why r there so many of you #←prev #yeahhhhhhhhh rip ops notifs lol #theoryposting #vie fortis #fileu #espoirit #2queueforyou

873,591 notes

Chapter Text

There is a kid staring at him.

This is not a new thing. Kids like staring at anything that's out of the ordinary and Isabeau knows he is Big. He is quite easy to stare at and this kid (dark skin, dark hair, big hat and general coastal features) is no exception.

It's the older lady (pale skin, dark hair, a glasses frame… probably Ka-Buan? Definitely not related to the kid, despite their proximity) that's a little more strange, her face stern and unreadable as she stares at him, the attention just the slightest bit unsettling.

Isabeau shuffles awkwardly in his spot, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Two pairs of eyes follow his movements, both narrowed in some inexplicable indiscernible manner.

Change, why won't the lift come faster?

"Can I help you?" He tries.

The older lady's eyes narrow further, her glasses glinting under the light. "No," she says, voice curt.

The kid just stares. "Yes," they say, at the same time. "Why are you so big."

And that's how he meets Madame Odile and Bonnie.

(…If he's being honest with himself, Odile looks an awful lot like that lady who hated him on sight in their previous place.

…

…Maybe they're related!

…Isabeau's not going to ask, though. Madame Odile is terrifying, and so was that lady in their old apartment complex.)

There is a child on their couch.

Specifically, there is a Bonnie on their couch. The neighbour kid Bonnie. On their couch.

Isabeau knows for a fact that Mirabelle is still on patrol, knows that she can't possibly be one responsible for this new addition to their living room. And Isabeau, himself, knows that he literally just stepped back into the house after being hired at a New Job and also knows that he was definitely not in charge of any sudden child acquisition.

Naturally, that leaves exactly one potential culprit: "…Sif??"

He gets a muffled yell back in return for his troubles, which clears up as Siffrin pokes his head out of his room, repeating themself. "Yeah, Isa?"

"Sif," Isabeau asks, slowly. "…Did you kidnap a child?"

Siffrin makes a flustered noise as he loses his balance and nearly falls face-first out of their door. "What?!?!" They yelp. "No??? Why would you say that???"

Isabeau turns, pointedly, and stares at the Bonnie lying on their couch.

"I didn't!" They protest, voice tilted upwards in half a whine. "Bonbon lost their key and got locked out. And then we called their sister and their sister said she would appreciate it if I took them for a bit before she came back and-"

Isabeau gets the idea.

He cuts them off with a pat on their shoulder. Siffrin jolts under his hand, flinches violently as he falls silent mid-sentence. Isabeau pulls away instantly. "Sorry! Sorry," he says, as he takes in the blank expression on their face. Okay, right, physical touch is a no-go. "Hey, as long as we won't get the heroes called on us for kidnapping, it's all good."

Siffrin makes a faint noise of agreement. Isabeau takes that as a good sign. "Well!" He says. "I'll leave you to it?"

They make that same noise again. Isabeau takes it as the dismissal it probably is and heads into his room to unwind for the day.

The bell at the door chimes as it creaks open.

Isabeau does not look up, does not turn around, as he shuffles papers around, looking for that One Specific File that the doctor wants. Somehow, it's precisely the One Specific File that he just saw - the One Specific File that he swears up and down, he swears, that he'd just left on the counter right there, right next to his numerous stick notes on things he's been trying to keep track of.

It's been all of eight minutes, how did he misplace it already?

"I'm sorry," Isabeau says to the wall, refusing to look at the newcomer out of shame and also resisting the urge to scream into his hands. It wouldn't be very professional of him, after all. "I'll be with you in just a minute."

There's a hum of acknowledgement and he thanks Change that the newcomer isn't being difficult. Or loud. Not that he's encountered many of those types of people at this job, but his (admittedly short) stint at retail left an impact on him, okay? And he understands if people are crabby at the clinic - it's usually out of worry, after all!

It takes him another minute or so, but he finally finds the One Specific File slipped between the tabs of another file. He does not scream or break down crying in the process, so he will take that as a win, especially with the eyes he can feel on his back, stares from a patient that he hasn't yet properly greeted.

Isabeau sighs, takes a deep breath in… …and out, and finally turns around, mouth open and ready with an apology and the greeting he's supposed to open with.

"I'm so sorry for the wait," he starts, then stops as the patient's figure finally registers.

The patient. Who is. Siffrin????

Somehow, entirely unexpectedly, it's Siffrin there, standing by the counter, staring blankly off into a corner. What a coincidence! What a surprise! They don't know each other quite that well yet, but Isabeau thinks that Siffrin's fairly pleasant to be around.

"Sif?"

"Isa," he says, blinking and smiling back at him.

"Sif!" Isabeau says, again. "It's great to see you, but uh- What are you doing here?"

They shrug. "Um. Seeing the doctor?"

Isabeau stares at his roommate. Unflinchingly, Siffrin stares back.

"This is a pediatric clinic," Isabeau says slowly, to Siffrin, who is not a child and - to the best of Isabeau's knowledge - does not have a child.

"Yep," Siffrin says, popping the 'p' at the end, as if it's a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Isabeau stretches his neck out to look on the other side of the counter. Bonnie stands just under the counter, arms crossed and pointedly not looking at him.

"'Nille's busy," they grumble.

Huh! This makes sense now.

"Well," Isabeau says, and starts to actually do his job. "I'll just need you to sign in here, and I'll call you in when the doctor's ready for you two, 'kay?"

"'Kay," Bonnie says, reluctant. Siffrin nods, clearly bemused.

As for Isabeau, he gets to work.

Three Idiots In A Trench-House

17:47 MirabelleC: Work emergency, won't be home for dinner

17:51 sisiffrin: kk

17:51 sisiffrin: i hear theres a villain attack downtown

17:51 sisiffrin: b careful

17:52 sisiffrin: also

17:52 sisiffrin: u want me to buy food 4 u anyway?

17:53 sisiffrin: im on takeout duty so

Isabeau stares at his phone, frowning.

Mirabelle having a work emergency means nothing to Siffrin. Why would it? Why would it, when he's got no clue what Mirabelle actually does for a living?

But Isabeau knows.

And Isabeau knows that the only work emergency that Mirabelle will ever deal with is a villain attack.

And so he knows what he needs to do.

Three Idiots In A Trench-House

18:03 KABOOM!!!: I think I'll be out late as well

18:04 KABOOM!!!: Don't worry about it Sif! We can all settle our own dinners today

18:05 sisiffrin: betrayal

18:05 sisiffrin: all the light in the world hath abandoned me

18:06 sisiffrin: the darkness is all thats left

18:06 sisiffrin: and it is slowly closing in on me

18:06 sisiffrin: the light

18:06 sisiffrin: fades

18:07 KABOOM!!!: SIFFRIN NOOOOOOOOO

Fileu slips out his window and disappears into the skyline.

The signs of battle are easy to follow, the screeching clash of metal against metal echoing through the concrete labyrinth. On the ground level, civilians flee from the epicentre, running from a fight that they cannot protect themselves from. The closer he gets, the more people there are scattered around, frozen in place and frozen in shock, frozen in terror and frozen in the midst of fleeing.

If he didn't already know where the fight was, it'd be a clear signal for it.

And when he gets there, Espoirit is running around with her rapier, lining up strikes that only ever come into contact with metal armour with a deafening screech. He doesn't hesitate, running up close and offering her his hand when he gets close enough, letting her grab on and letting her Twin Touch play off of his Multisse with a familiar ease.

No words are needed as they split off, Espoirit all but taking to the skies as she races up the side of a building and bounces towards the villain. The plan is simple, obvious even without the need for an explanation - whatever power the villain has, she's trying to mimic it.

And so Fileu plays the distraction.

Sometimes, he's a little jealous of how easily Espoirit takes to using his power, the way she uses it in so many different ways, making something that should be purely his into something so uniquely her own. How adaptable, how eager to learn and change, how thoroughly she whips his power into a weapon of her own, using its shapeshifting abilities to augment her inner functions with a familiarity of the human anatomy that has never really sparked Fileu's interest.

The villain towers over both of them, unnaturally large and unnaturally bulky, hair falling in waves across the pavement. Espoirit strikes at him with a vengeance that Fileu has never seen from her before, and then it dawns on him.

The bulk and the armour, the hair and the sobbing, the people frozen in place around the epicentre of the battle-

It's The King.

It's The King, the villain that has taken over Dormont and held its inhabitants hostage by freezing them in time. It's The King, the villain that caused Espoirit to have to flee from her hometown in the first place.

It's The King.

And it truly sinks in.

It's The King.

And it's going to be one hard fight ahead of them.

Three Idiots In A Trench-House

18:13 sisiffrin: wait

18:13 sisiffrin: isa

18:13 sisiffrin: i thought todays ur day off

18:14 sisiffrin: r u not back home???

18:14 sisiffrin: rip movie night plans :(

Espoirit gets close enough.

Fileu is battered and feeling pretty bruised, but - thank Change - Espoirit does it.

She all but ricochets off of the sides of the building with her borrowed ability, finally, finally, getting close enough for her fingers to brush The King's unarmoured face, close enough for her to take his power for her own.

…And close enough for her to slap him in the face.

The King freezes and, ever so slowly, raises a gauntlet up to his face.

Espoirit, on the other hand, lands on the ground with a heavy thud, shoulders heaving in exertion but triumphant nonetheless as she readies her rapier once more.

"It's over, King," she declares, stubborn hope woven through her very being, just like her name. "I have your power now. I can freeze you in time now!"

"…Oh… …Young hero," he sighs lowly, just the slightest note of laughter in his voice. A chill shoots its way down Fileu's spine at the sound, some fight or flight instinct raring up in his very being. "…Are you sure about that?"

He strikes.

The world spins as Fileu is knocked off of his feet, Espoirit calling out his name. The King-

The King reaches out, presses cold metal fingers to Fileu's forehead and-

(You never thought they'd do something like this.

You're not blind, so you suspected, of course, that something strange was going on behind the scenes, but you didn't think-

You didn't think they could stoop to this level.

It's one thing, you think, to not answer the call for help from other hero agencies. That can be explained by a multitude of things, from a lack of manpower to jurisdiction over certain areas of the city, from inter-agency politics to actual genuine legal restrictions. There's so many possibilities, no one would have blinked an eye at just… turning down that call for help.

It's one thing for that.

It's another thing altogether, what you have in your hands.

You've been a hero here for a while - long enough to remember Espoirit's quiet meeting with some higher-ups months ago. You remember the resignation on her face as she left.

Mira doesn't talk about it. You never asked.

You never asked, because you're a coward and knowledge is a burden and ignorance is bliss and it's all a part of the persona that you made for yourself anyway and you've buried that ghost of who you used to be ages and ages ago and it's been MONTHS since Espoirit's meeting and-

You just came in.

You didn't plan to snoop around, you were just… You were asked to come in. You were asked to come in, for a meeting, of some sort or another, they didn't tell you what it's supposed to be about but you have your suspicions! You did suspect it was about your regular team-ups with Espoirit! You were asked to be here, and you are.

You're here, you're on time, and your boss just. Wasn't.

You didn't plan on snooping. And you are a coward and knowledge is still a burden and ignorance is still bliss but it was all right there on the table out in the open and once you caught sight of it, you couldn't stop looking. And once you had even the slightest bit of an inkling, you had to keep digging.

And so you dug.

And so you found.

And you-

You kinda wish you didn't! And you kinda wish you found out earlier, all at the same time.

The Defenders' Association of Heroes isn't the heroic beacon of light that you believed it to be.

Change. It's the complete opposite of that, if anything.

…You need to resign immediately. You need to tell someone, anyone. You NEED-)

Fileu blinks.

The King isn't the one towering over him, pressing a cold hand to his forehead. Not anymore. No, it's Espoirit, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she rests her fingertips on his head.

Fileu's head spins.

"Oh… But, I am… A benevolent King," the villain is saying. Espoirit scoffs, but Fileu can feel the way she shakes. "…You have impressed me. And so, I… …Will grant you mercy, just this once." He gestures grandly at the people frozen in time around him.

"…Go on. 'Save' the countrymen you care so much for. …I will not be so kind next time."

Three Idiots In A Trench-House

18:31 KABOOM!!!: Sorry!!!

18:31 KABOOM!!!: My sister asked me to pass her something last minute

18:32 KABOOM!!!: So I'll have dinner out!!!

18:32 KABOOM!!!: Movie night shifted to another day?

18:38 MirabelleC: @sisiffrin It's okay! I'll get my own dinner like Isabeau suggested!!

18:39 MirabelleC: And movie night another day instead sounds good!

"His power isn't time freeze," Espoirit breathes. Her hands tremble. Fileu grips them, a steadying force. She does not look like she notices. "It's memories."

Supervillain "The King" Moves On To Jouvente

Little under a year ago, the town of Dormont faced an attack that no one could have anticipated. People in the streets began to freeze in place, incapable of moving from their spots. This phenomenon only grew, spreading from the outskirts of town to its centre.

The villain responsible? One known as The King.

To this day, the residents of Dormont are still frozen in time, unchanging and unmoving statues scattered across the townscape. Today, Jouvente faces its own troubles with The King, as he has appeared to have outgrown Dormont, and appears to plan to expand his reach to the nearby city.

Thankfully, local hero Espoirit, previously of Dormont, was able to ensure that there were no casualties as The King's debut in Jouvente, where he froze several people who were visiting Château de Fleurs. The civilians were not frozen for long and they were soon freed from their time prisons with Espoirit's assistance.

[Read More]

Two Peas In A Pod

09:43 MirabelleC: Isabeau help

09:43 MirabelleC: I think one of our neighbours is following me???

09:44 KABOOM!!!: Are you sure?

09:44 MirabelleC: YES!!!

09:44 MirabelleC: Maybe

09:45 MirabelleC: …No.

09:46 MirabelleC: No, but I swear, if I think about it, I think? She's been my neighbour for a long time???

09:47 MirabelleC: Like. Like following me through all the places I've lived in kind of long time?

09:48 MirabelleC: I think. She's lived in every place I've lived. And I've moved a bunch!!

09:49 MirabelleC: That's weird right???? Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times is enemy action???

09:50 MirabelleC: Is it weird if I ask her??

09:51 MirabelleC: Isabeau, is it weird????

09:52 MirabelleC: Isabeau pleaseeeeee

09:53 MirabelleC: Okay I'm not asking.

09:53 MirabelleC: But it's still pretty crabbing weird!!

A familiar face works the counter of the cafe, carefully pouring out trails of steamed milk into a paper takeaway cup.

It’s quiet. Only one customer hovers around the counter, with a mere three others scattered across the various corners of the cafe. It’s quiet, and that’s why Isabeau doesn’t think too much before siddling up to the side of the counter once the last customer picks up their coffee.

“Hey stranger,” he says, smiling at the barista.

Siffrin startles, looks up and swaps out the well-worn customer service smile for one of his usual half-smiles. “Hey stranger.”

“Come here often?”

They laugh at that, short and light. “Too much a-brewing for me not to,” they say, voice teasing. ”How about you, have you bean here before?”

Isabeau snorts.

“Are you going to order anything?” Siffrin asks, a glint in their eyes. “Or are you just going to stand there and laugh a latte?”

He laughs, one last time, as he takes a glance at the time, then at the menu. A pity that he spent so much time looking for a coffee shop, so much so that he… really should be getting back from his break. “Well, I’ll have one of those then. A latte and a chocolate muffin please!”

“One latte and chocolate muffin coming right up,” Siffrin says cheerily, and gets to work.

71-grasshoppers-in-a-jar
hey wasn't there an article about vie fortis talking about the corruption of the dah? where did that go

#vie fortis #defenders' association of heroes #like wasn't there some piece on it on some news website?? #i swear i saw it and read it but i can't find it now????

21 notes

"Oh, hi M'dame," Isabeau greets, as she walks up to wait for the lift.

"Hello, Isabeau," Odile says, nodding at him. Her disinterested gaze focuses on the other person there. "…Siffrin."

Siffrin waves in greeting. Odile furrows her eyebrows and continues staring, only looking away when the lift arrives, turning to take sharp strides into it. Isabeau sends his roommate a wordless questioning look and gets nothing but a shrug in response.

Alright then. Guess he's not getting an answer!

They enter the lift.

"Siffrin, was it?" Odile says, an unreadable note to her voice, like she didn't just address him by name half a minute ago.

"Uh," Siffrin says. "Yes?"

"You are… An interesting fellow, aren't you?"

That's… Certainly an equally interesting way of putting it! A glance at Siffrin's face reveals the same confusion that Isabeau feels. Well, it's good to know that Isabeau isn't the only confused one here.

"What a coincidence, that you live in the same apartment as one Mirabelle Chevalier," Odile continues.

"And Isa," Siffrin adds, helpfully.

"And me!" Isabeau agrees.

"What a coincidence," Odile says again, eyes narrowed and completely ignoring anything else that was said. The way she says it makes it seem like it's not a coincidence, which is just plain strange. "That someone like you would end up moving in with her."

Siffrin laughs, a little awkwardly as he glances at Isabeau. For rescue, maybe? Isabeau isn't quite sure what he can do here. "Yes," they say. "I just needed a place to stay in the city."

"Siffrin's a good roommate," Isabeau adds, helpfully. "M'dame…?"

She huffs, clearly somewhat annoyed. Isabeau exchanges another awkward glance with Siffrin. "Siffrin," she says again, voice suddenly stern. "I trust you'll do nothing to any of your wonderful roommates, hm? Else, I hear there might be some people who are very, very capable of retaliating."

The lift dings cheerily as it slows to a stop, the doors sliding open. Odile, too, all but glides out of the lift.

The door of the lift slides back shut, and it continues on its ascent.

"…What was that about?" Isabeau can't help but ask, because Odile was acting weird, and maybe there's some muddled history between her and Siffrin that would explain all of that. But Siffrin just stands there, eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion as he, too, stares at the closed lift door.

"I," they say, slowly. "Have no idea."

Isabeau gets ice cream. 

There’s no special occasion, no real reason for it. Can’t a man just treat himself to a chocolate fudge brownie flavoured ice cream every once in a while? 

He gets his ice cream, and walks out of the shop, just in time for the earth to begin to tremble beneath him. 

Isabeau sighs, bone deep, and barely has enough time to even think about being annoyed before the tremor fully hits, knocking him (and several others in the vicinity) clean off his feet. 

The ice cream too, gets knocked clean off of its cone and lands on concrete ground with a wet splat, melting into the ground along with any of the excitement he had. He wonders if he can melt into the ground too. Is that a reasonable reaction? It feels like it.

The ground trembles harshly again, and Isabeau spares a moment to thank Change he hadn't tried to stand up, because he definitely would have been knocked over again. It's not an earthquake. Or rather, it really shouldn't be, because their area doesn't usually get natural disasters like that.

A villain attack, he decides. It must be. Occam's Razor and all; the simplest explanation is probably right. He should get up, probably. He should get into costume and go help, if that's the case.

His ice cream continues melting on the gravel in front of his eyes. He sighs, deeply, and gives himself another moment to resign himself to a longer period of no ice cream as another tremor hits.

And then he's not sprawled on the ground anymore, air whooshing past him and arms looped under him in a princess carry. A noise escapes his mouth, somewhere between a flustered gasp and a scream, as something crashes. Something heavy. It rattles the ground and the stranger's grip on him.

He looks up at his saviour.

It's someone who he is unfortunately familiar with, someone whose feathered mask, large hat and flowy cape are forevermore etched into his memory. It's-

"SUPERNOVA??!???"

"Hey," Supernova, the literal supervillain, says brightly as they drop him back on his feet.

"WHAT??? HUH???? WH-"

"A thank you for saving your life wouldn't hurt," they pout, gesturing at the broken concrete block behind them, exactly where Isabeau had been lying.

"THANK YOU??? I GUESS???"

"Thank you, thank you," Supernova tips the brim of their hat with a flourish and a small bow. When they straighten up, the corners of their mouth are pulled up ever so slightly. It's familiar, almost. "I'll be here all day! Try not to get crushed this time~"

The villain takes off near instantly. The world trembles, but Isabeau is prepared enough this time, to not entirely fall over.

Still, by the time he regains his balance and looks up, Supernova is nowhere to be found.

Espoirit pokes fun at him for needing to be saved by a villain for weeks.

krispyblogs
Reblogged pixofease

gardenfullofrosies
how to meet fileu for real in a romanatic way

gardenfullofrosies
anyone whos seen him up close irl i need to be you right now have you seen those muscles

gardenfullofrosies
fileu could choke me between his biceps and id thank him

gardenfullofrosies
he could crush my skull between those thighs and i love him for it

10-ofhearts
that's a criminal?? have you no shame????

8c8ra
only technically a criminal by law, effectively functioning as a hero

gardenfullofrosies
how is the technicalities of fileus legality as a hero the main issue anyone has here

lightofmylife
the court finds fileu guilty of the crime of stealing everyones hearts

#only on this hellsite.

259 notes

There's a knock on the front door.

Okay, that's downplaying it. There's someone all but hammering on their door, an unrhythmic thing that Isabeau swears would rattle the door itself if it were any stronger.

"'ZA, OPEN UP!" A familiar voice yells. "I KNOW YOU'RE INSIDE."

Ah, it's just Bonnie.

Isabeau opens the door.

"Hey Bonbon, want to come in?"

"Za, there's NO TIME for that!!!" they say, seriously, hand clutched tightly around their phone. "I need you to take me to the hospital."

???!?

He takes Bonnie's little hand and tugs them into the apartment, even as they dig their heels in and drag their feet behind them. "Where are you hurt?" He asks, crouching down to get a better look at them. Nothing on the knees… the elbows are fine… the arms, in general, seem fine… Did they fall and hit their head? No, their pupils seem fine, so its probably not a concussion-

"Za, stop. Za stop that," Bonnie whines, batting his hands away from their face, impatience and tension laced through their entire little being even as they grab on to his hands and try to pull him towards the door. "You're wasting time, we need to get to the hospital!! Now!!"

"We should get your sister first," Isabeau says, pushing himself to his feet. Friendly neighbour as he is, he is still not Bonnie's legal guardian! "Where's Petri?"

"ZA! Don't be stupid," Bonnie huffs, voice pitching high into a whine. "Nille's the one in the hospital." They tug at his hand again. This time, he follows, grabbing his keys off of their hook as he follows them out of the apartment. "And the people on the phone said I'm not allowed to go without a res-pon-si-ble adult." They say the word slowly, sounding out each syllable with careful emphasis. "And Dile's not here so you're the next best option and we need to go to the hospital to see Nille now, so come on!!"

Oh.

"Oh," he says. "OH. OKAY."

He grabs his phone as he follows Bonnie down the stairs, message flying out from beneath his fingertips.

Three Idiots In A Trench-House

17:49 KABOOM!!!: Hi guys, I'm heading to the hospital

17:49 MirabelleC: WHAT

17:49 MirabelleC: WHY

17:50 MirabelleC: WHICH ONE I'M GOING THERE RIGHT NOW

17:50 KABOOM!!!: NOT FOR ME!! T.T Mira give me a moment to explain. How do you type so fast

17:50 MirabelleC: Sorry… panicked. Why are you going to the hospital?

17:51 KABOOM!!!: You know Bonnie and Petri?

17:51 MirabelleC: Yes, did something happen to them??

17:52 KABOOM!!!: Well.

17:52 KABOOM!!!: Petri's in the hospital, so I'm bringing Bonnie there

17:52 MirabelleC: OH.

17:53 MirabelleC: Okay, which one, I'll head there after work!

17:53 sisiffrin: me too

17:53 sisiffrin: but like

17:53 sisiffrin: now

17:53 KABOOM!!!: Hôpital de Jouvente

17:54 MirabelleC: Update us!!

17:54 KABOOM!!!: Will do!!

Isabeau drives while Mirabelle dozes in the front seat, clearly wiped out from her patrol shift.

In the back, Bonnie sulks, arms crossed as they stare into the distance, their tiny self seated on the middle seat, squished between Odile and Siffrin. Odile had, apparently, been near Petronille when they were both caught in the crossfires of a fight between Espoirit and The King. Odile got out with just a few scratches and was discharged without issue, but Petronille sustained damage to her legs - nothing that can't eventually be healed, but enough for the hospital to keep her overnight for observation.

Overnight, which therein lies the issue.

"…I don't understand," Bonnie grumbles.

"What don't you understand, Boniface?" Odile asks.

They huff. "Why I can't just stay with Nille at the hospital!"

The car is silent for a beat.

"Well," Isabeau tries, when it's clear that Odile and Siffrin are waiting for him to answer. "You know how Petri had to go into another room for surgery?"

"…Yeah."

"And she came out okay, right?"

"……Yeah."

"But, you see, Bonbon, the doctors need to watch her for a while to make sure that she stays okay." Through the rearview mirror, he watches Bonnie's face go through a complicated series of expressions. "And you want Petri to stay okay, right?"

"……Yeah…" A long pause. "………FINE." Bonnie huffs, crossing their arms and looking away indigently.

In the rearview mirror, Isabeau watches as Siffrin pats their little knee.

"It's okay, Bonbon," they say, voice even. "You can have a sleepover with us while Petri gets better, okay?"

Bonnie makes a faint noise of agreement and proceeds to sulk the entire way back home.

There is a question that weighs heavily on his mind.

"So," Fileu can't help but ask, even though it is the middle of a fight and he's just barely dodged a dagger (blunted, he noticed earlier). "Why are you a villain?"

Supernova all but lights up at the question, falling back from where they were prepared to attack. "Give me a moment," they call, and immediately start clambering up a lamppost.

Fileu glances at Espoirit. The only thing Espoirit has for him is an entirely unimpressed gaze.

"Well," she says, glancing between him and Supernova's attempts at balancing atop the lamppost. "You seem to have it under control. I'm just going to go back to my patrol."

"Please don't leave," he calls, but she's already leaving, not even sparing him a second glance. "Espoirit, please!"

"Sorry," she calls back, not sounding even the slightest bit sorry. "But I have a job to get back to and you um. Kind of brought this on yourself."

Fileu makes a noise of slight despair as Espoirit disappears from sight. Supernova, who doesn't even have the decency to let him wallow in his misery for just a little longer, takes that as their cue to start.

"Vie Fortis," they start grandly, balanced precariously up on their perch.

"I'm Fileu," he corrects, longsufferingly.

"Fileu," they amend, without missing a beat. "Have you ever lost everything?" They don't wait for an answer, their cape fluttering behind them in the slight breeze as they continue with gusto. "I have. Every moment, every person, every love I ever had - ripped from my fingers and razed to the ground. And I am left here in the rubble, grasping helplessly at the ashes of all that mattered to me."

Fileu frowns. Somehow, inexplicably, this is all so… familiar.

"And sometimes, it makes me so, so angry, looking out at everyone out here, living their perfect little lives, acting like nothing's wrong, so ignorant of everything else going on around them!" They run their fingers through their hair and laugh, a bark, so unlike their usual high-pitched giggles. "Why do they get to ignore it? Why should they get to ignore it?!"

They pause, taking deep breaths in and out, before continuing with an uncharacteristically pointed aggressiveness to their voice. "I won't let them ignore it any longer-"

…Ah.

Fileu knows where he heard this from before. It's a monologue from 'The Ghost of Froterbo', one of the plays that he studied in school once. He'd forgotten all about it, until Siffrin had gone on a ramble on all the plays he liked, then he'd dug out his old book on it so the two of them could do a dramatic re-reading together.

…Supernova is essentially reciting the entire monologue from 'The Ghost of Froterbo', from that scene where The Ghost revealed her motivations for haunting the city's denizens till they all went mad. (It was very much a tragedy. All the main characters died in a variety of ways - The Detective eventually dying by his own hand under the manipulations of The Ghost, The Ghost herself being vanquished from the mortal realm without seeing her love avenged.)

(…Fileu still has no clue why Siffrin likes the play so much.)

That being said, that means nothing out of Supernova's mouth thus far has been real. It's all just… theatrics. Smokes and mirrors. And to think he almost felt bad for them??!

Fileu makes a muffled noise of discontent into his palms, and resigns himself to sitting through the rest of the monologue.

"I've got you now," Supernova all but purrs, content as a cat who got the cream.

One of their hands pins his to the wall, the grip surprisingly sturdy. The other holds their dagger to his neck, pinning him to the side of the building. The bare skin of his neck is reinforced, of course, with the crocodile scales he favours. It doesn't make it much easier to try and escape.

It's also… very close. Fileu can see every inlaid gemstone on Supernova's mask, feel every breath tickle his chin as they lean in closer… and closer…

"NO YOU DON'T!"

"What," Supernova says.

"Huh???" Fileu says.

As one, they both turn to look at the source of the exclamation. And-

He thinks of Bonnie, tucked in snugly under their covers. He thinks of Bonnie, who he and Siffrin had personally tucked in not even an hour ago. He thinks of Bonnie, who he could have sworn up and down was soundly asleep.

He thinks of Bonnie, and looks at the little figure standing in front of him, barely up to his chest even with their giant hat.

"I'm Master! Master! And I am here to save the day!" The tiny vigilante announces, their cape (Fileu is fairly sure that's just a blanket) billowing in the wind behind them. "Step away from Fi-lie-you now, you villain scum!"

That's Bonnie's voice.

Why is that Bonnie's voice???

Supernova, too, stares at the tiny vigilante (Master Master??), befuddlement plastered across their face. "That's Vie Fortis," they say, promptly, and Fileu kind of wants to punch a wall.

"I'm Fileu."

"Fileu," they correct, unflinchingly. "That's Fileu."

Speaking of walls, the villain's grip on his hand loosens from the distraction. Fileu hardens the back of his hand and smacks the dagger away, yanking his hand free of Supernova's grip. They don't react, even when their dagger goes clattering across the floor.

"Superno-"

"That's a child," they interrupt, faux calm like the lid on a jar full of wind, ready to burst open at any second. "Fileu, why is there a child here???"

"I don't know!!" Fileu protests, immediately, because he doesn't!!! Bonnie is supposed to be asleep! At home! Soundly! He's failing his promise to Petronille with every moment Bonnie spends here, blanket cape around their shoulders and bandana around the bottom half of their face. He's fairly sure he's seen them wear this set of clothes before. In fact, he's fairly sure Bonnie was wearing this same set of clothes before he and Siffrin chased them into bedclothes.

"I'm right here," Master Master (??) protests. "You shouldn't talk about people behind their backs!!"

"Okay," Fileu tries. "So, Master… ….Master?"

"Yes," Master Master - who is Bonnie (again, what the CRAB is Bonnie doing here) - nods, arms crossed firmly over their chest. "It's because I'm the master of masters and now you have to listen to me because I'm the master."

"Of everything?!?"

"Of everything!!!" Master Master agrees.

A quick glance at Supernova's face shows the laughter they are trying very hard to hide. They are not doing a very good job at hiding it.

Fileu takes a deep breath in, and out, just like he's seen Siffrin do.

"Okay, Master Master," he says. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you," Master Master declares.

Fileu takes another deep breath in and out. "See?" He tries, offering both palms out to express how free he is. "I'm free now. Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome," they say, pompously. Fileu takes another moment to wonder what his life has become.

"Okay," he says, again. "Well. Now that I'm free, you've done your job and you should go now?"

Master Master gives him a very considering look, and then turns to stare at Supernova. Fileu too, stares at them. Supernova stares back at him for just a beat before giving in. "Oh, woe is me," they gasp, spinning dramatically in place with a hand on their forehead like a medieval woman about to faint. "My nemesis has been freed, and I have been so thoroughly defeated by you, hero. I have no choice but to make my grand escape."

They bow, and Fileu's glad that the villain's tendency towards drama has some use at least. "Until we meet again, oh great hero, Master Master," they declare, and split into multiple of their copies, each fleeing in a separate direction.

Fileu turns to give Master Master an expectant look. "See?"

They relent.

"…Fine," they grumble, stomping out of the alleyway. "It's past my bedtime anyway."

Fileu takes care to follow Master Master home from a distance.

If he sees a familiar cloak and hat darting along the rooftops too, he doesn't say anything about it.

Look, Supernova may be a supervillain, but they're a supervillain with standards, see? They wouldn't harm a child, Fileu knows that much about them.

pixofease
I made a compilation of every time Supernova calls Fileu Vie Fortis. Spoiler warning: it is A Lot of times.

#supernova #fileu #vie fortis #fileu is vie fortis

1,502 notes

EVERY TIME SUPERNOVA CALLS FILEU VIE FORTIS
47,291 views • 12 hours ago

-

PixelPerfect
117 Subscribers

I saw someone say something like "for someone who's not Vie Fortis, Fileu sure gets called that a lot" and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Anyway, so here's every recorded time I could find where Supernova calls Fileu Vie Fortis.

-

529 Comments:

@SilliNova
12:58 look at fileu's face LMAOOO
> @woahitssuperheroes
that's my new pfp thanks

@IreneJanineKarine1032
"supernova calls fileu vie fortis" but also additional compilation of times (02:17 05:42 06:11 08:59 09:41 14:37) where fileu responds to vie fortis
> @PixelPerfect
This man is NOT beating the allegations

@grasshopperlover
06:32 my favourite supernova monologue. did they just stop to monologue about fileu to the camera just to call him vie fortis
> @bunniesdaze
the poor reporter forced to ask if they meant fileu LOLLL

It's a very normal evening and Isabeau was having a very normal time before the literal supervillain dropped in through his window, rolling in with practised ease as if it's a completely normal thing to do.

He stares at them. They blink, then wave. "Heya?"

"…Hello?" Isabeau tries, like he is not secretly the nemesis of the same villain that waltzed through his window??? Why did a supervillain randomly come through his window??? What??? "Can I??? Help you???"

Supernova stares at him. Isabeau stares back, and watches as they spin around slowly, taking in the sights of his (admittedly a little messy) room. "Nice room," they say, like the two of them are actually friends and it's the first time they've been invited to his place and this is a perfectly normal situation to be happening.

It is not.

Peaceful evening plans turned inside out upon themselves, Isabeau offers the villain a strained smile. "…Thanks." He hesitates. "Thanks for saving me that one time too?"

Supernova hums in acknowledgement. "It was nothing."

The silence that settles over the room is thick. Isabeau fidgets with his sleeves. Supernova tugs at their hat.

"So…" Isabeau tries, slowly. "Uh. Why are you, um… In my room?"

That seems to snap something back into place for the villain. "Well," Supernova starts grandiosely, unsubtly flicking their cape out with a quick motion of their hand as the whole pitch of their voice changes. "I just couldn't get the thought of you out of my brain after saving you!" They perch themself on his bed with only the slightest of hesitations. "It's not every day a big bad villain like me gets to play hero after all~"

"…Sure."

"So, come, sit and tell me," they continue, patting the empty space on the bed beside themselves. "How else can I help you on this wonderful evening?"

Isabeau takes a moment to appreciate the incredulity of the situation he's found himself in - a supervillain in his bedroom. Not even that, a supervillain who is specifically his nemesis, seated on his bed, inviting him to sit next to them on his bed.

And then he sits, because if he's going to chat with a supervillain in his room, he might as well make himself comfortable.

"Nothing you can help with," Isabeau says, carefully minding his words, because Supernova is a supervillain, and helping in their eyes might involve some other things.

"I've been told I make an excellent listener, though," they declare, hands pressed together cheerily. "And you look like you have things you need to talk about."

Fair point! He can do that much.

"I," he says, questioning every step in his life that led to him confessing his woes to a supervillain in his bedroom. "Was let go from my job after it turned out to be a front for a cult and was uncovered in a police investigation. As it turns out, my boss was a pretty big figurehead in the cult and was using his medical practice as a cover-up and also to recruit more people to the cult."

"And so you have no job."

"And so I have no job," Isabeau agrees.

"Did you even like your job?" Supernova asks, clearly curious.

"…No," Isabeau admits.

"Well," the villain says. "I think it's important that you do like your job. Or that you at least find that it's more good than bad. So maybe it's a good thing that you're not working there anymore."

Isabeau takes another moment to appreciate how the situation gets more unbelievable with every progressive step. It's good advice. A supervillain is giving him good job advice. What has his life come to?

"And now," they continue. "Maybe you can find a job in an area that you actually like!"

"Maybe!" He agrees, then pauses for a moment. "Do you like being a villain?" Isabeau asks.

Supernova squints, dark eyes narrowing behind their mask. "…Sometimes," they say vaguely, eventually.

"Sometimes," Isabeau echoes.

"Every job has its ups and downs," they say. "And being a villain is no different."

"Why, uh, are you a villain?" He asks, even if he has already heard the answer once before. It seems the last time wasn't enough, and he hasn't really learned his lesson about asking Supernova questions like that.

The ensuing silence is so thick Isabeau could slice through it with a knife.

"It's…" Supernova sighs. "It's a means to an end," they settle on, eventually, the answer nothing like what Isabeau was expecting. "It's the only option I have left now."

…Oh.

That's. …Hm.

"But don't worry about little old Supernova~" They continue cheerily. "I'm doing just fine. What other job can I have that would have me looking like this?" The villain lifts their cape with a swift arm motion, showing off the little darkless specks scattered across the lightless inner fabric.

It's a distraction, a deflection, he knows, but Isabeau can't help himself. "Can I look at your cape for a sec?"

Supernova stares at him for a beat, then nods.

Taking care not to touch them (being mindful of people's personal space is important!), he kneels and takes a hold of their cape, running his fingers over the embroidered specks, and taking careful note of the unsteady hemming of the edges. It's handmade. Hand-sewn, at the very least.

"It's beautiful," he says.

Supernova laughs, a little. "You like clothes, huh?"

Isabeau flushes. "Heheh, well… It's. A bit of a passion."

"Well," they say. "Maybe you can make something out of it, right?"

…That would be nice, Isabeau thinks. It'd be hard, but it'd be nice.

"Isabeau?" Mirabelle interrupts, peeking her head through the doorframe.

(By Arrows)

Isabeau swears he feels his heart stop, dropping the villain's cloak abruptly and pulling away. "Oh," she says, smiling politely at Supernova. "Are you busy? Sorry, I- I won't interrupt!"

And, somehow, she leaves, shutting the door to Isabeau's room behind her with a solid 'click'.

Both Isabeau and Supernova stare at the closed door for a moment, the silence so heavy that it's honestly a little bit hard to breathe.

"…I think I should go," Supernova says, carefully.

Isabeau blinks at the closed door, at the footsteps that have gone notably silent just outside of it.

"…I couldn't agree more," he says.

It barely takes a second before Mirabelle throws the door back open again, only just missing Supernova as they slip out the window.

"Isabeau," she demands, glancing around wildly, as if the villain is hiding behind one of his curtains or something. "Was that Supernova? Known supervillain Supernova?? Super your nemesis Supernova??? In your bedroom???? On your bed????"

"…Would you believe me if I said no?" Isabeau hedges.

Mirabelle stares at him, in clear disbelief. "No???" she says, voice pitched high in outraged incredulity.

Fair enough. Isabeau will give her that much, because it was very clearly and also very much his nemesis - the very wanted supervillain Supernova - that was seated on his bed not even two minutes ago.

"Okay. Then yes," he admits. "That was Supernova."

The complaint is instant.

"ISABEAU."

"What!" He protests, hands raised in faux surrender. "You said you wouldn't believe me if I said no!"

Mirabelle makes a muffled noise of discontent into her hands. Isabeau concedes and stays quiet as she collects herself, because he is the one who had a supervillain in his room, and he is also probably the one at fault here.

Her eventual plea is woven with an undertone of barely disguised anguish. "Why?" She asks, like there is some miraculous answer that will bring reason to the scene she witnessed.

"In my defence," Isabeau starts, slowly, and watches her shoulders sag in despair. Rude?? Maybe it's not the best start that he could have come up with, but it's not that bad. "They came in without invitation."

"But you didn't have to entertain them!" She pauses, then doubles down. "W- What were you even talking about?"

"Job advice." He pauses, for just a moment, then backtracks. "Life advice in general, actually."

"From a supervillain?"

"They had quite a bit of good advice."

"You're taking advice from a supervillain????"

"Mira," Isabeau says, with full seriousness. "My last job turned out to be a front for a cult. I don't think taking advice from supervillains is the worst thing I could be doing right now."

Mirabelle blinks at him, a look of absolute befuddlement scribbled across her face. "Your… receptionist job? At a clinic? A pediatric clinic???"

He nods through everything and watches as her face turns to despair. "Isabeau," she says, voice muffled and face buried into her hands once more. "How-"

"It's not my fault!" He protests, before Mirabelle can continue. "I don't tryyy to find jobs that end poorly for me."

Mirabelle sighs. "I know," she relents, lifting her head from her hands. "Do you need help finding another job?"

Isabeau thinks of embroidery and backstitches.

"No," he says, already planning. "I'm good."