No one spoke as Energia rushed over to Luca and hugged her tightly to her chest. “Are you okay, baby?” she whispered in the blond woman’s ear, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Luca smiled and nodded, no longer wincing at the motion as she dug her face into Energia’s shoulder. After a second, Energia let go of Luca and helped her back into the desk chair she’d been sitting in before this all started. She went back to stand with all the other POWER group members, adjusting her elaborate black and yellow mask so her brown eyes could peek out beneath better.
“Finished up with the receptionist, are we?” murmured The Prophet with a small grin on his face, ducking the punch that she aimed at him with perfect precision despite his lack of vision. Energia scowled as Tempus Manum turned to face her.
“What’d I tell you about hitting?” he demanded of her as she marched back to her spot and grumpily crossed her arms over her chest. “We are supposed to be a team here. So how can we be a team when we hit each other all the time?”
“Oh, bite me, Temp. You can go fuck yourself,” she sneered at him, causing SnowSword to laugh loudly.
“I don’t really think Tempy’s your type, Gia,” she giggled, making the ‘g’ sound more like a ‘z’. “But if Luca here offered to bite, I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“Shut up, all of you fuckers!” screamed Energia, her bright blue fingernails beginning to lighten to electric yellow. “It’s none of your business what happens between Luca and I, so I cordially invite you all to suck it!”
“That’s what he said,” chimed in The Prophet laughingly, sounding and acting younger than expected for his age of thirty two.
“Guys, get serious!” said Tempus Manum, as he attempted to keep Energia away from giving SnowSword and Prophet each the pummeling of their lives. “People, we are superheroes, not children! Stop swinging your arms and hitting each other like you’re four. And while we’re at it…” He gave Energia a hard shove that propelled her to a safe distance from the others. “Let’s change my nickname. I mean, you’re got Psych, you’re got Proph, you’re got Snow, you’re got Gia…and I’m Temp. It makes me feel…”
“Like a Temp?” asked Prophet, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” said Tempus Manum, nodding enthusiastically. “I’d take any other part of my name. Man. Um. I’d even take being called Pus! Seriously. You have to call me Temp?”
“Yeah, fuck face,” sniffed Energia, strolling back over as she nodded. Her anger was notoriously like lightening: there one minute, gone the next, and equally able to chill me to the bone. “It’s fitting. You’re the newest, the most temporary, the most untrusted of the group. Everyone else is connected. You have shit.”