Chapter Text
You wake up at exactly 6:45 am on Wednesday without an alarm, like you always do. You've never needed one, thanks to your abilities. You always wake exactly when you need to, regardless of whether you want to or not.
The sun was just beginning to kiss the sky 'good morning' as you begrudgingly rose from your paradise of fuzzy blankets and perfectly-molded-to-your-head-shape pillow.
You knew your phone would buzz before it did: an email from your new supervisor, containing the details of your new assignment.
Last Friday, Shroud and the Red Ring had turned the city upside down in an ambush of explosions and an attack on the Torrance branch of SDN; your current employer. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt (or worse) in the attack. But you didn't need an email to know that things, people, positions had been shifted around and needed re-balancing. You would be the one to readjust the scales.
The stars last night told you to be excited: this is the change you had been anticipating all summer. They never gave you details. Just feelings. Instincts. The sounds of fast approaching events before you saw them.
Four words came to the forefront of your mind as you lay awake in bed last night: Synergy. Phoenix. Coffee. Apricity.
The signs never made sense. You just follow them.
You skim the email anyway. Details are supposed to be important, even if the Heavens refuse to show any to you themselves.
You're to meet with someone named Robert, in the archives room (room B07) at 9:00 sharp. More details to follow.
Details. Details. Details.
The word gets stuck at the forefront of your mind like a rock stuck in your shoe.
You get ready for work, taking your sweet ass time choosing the right jewelry. If you're stuck wearing that stupid uniform, you're at least going to make it bearable with some snazzy accessories. You settle for silver hoop earrings, an array of chunky grandma rings you got at various consignment shops, and a thick leather belt with a sparkly star shaped buckle.
Details.
You don't need to follow a map on your phone as you make your way to your new workplace. The stars guide you, even when you can't see them. The only convenient thing about your powers is the you never get lost. And, occasionally, you don't actually have to leave your house to go to work. You've been told projecting your astral avatar in place of your real body to stay in bed all day is highly discouraged, though.
Jealous bitches.
Thirty minutes after stepping foot outside your front door, you come to the tall glass doors of the SDN Torrance building. You check your watch as you grab the handle- 9:12 am. Right on time.
Something tells you to stop the moment you step through the door, however. You obey, and look around for the source of danger. It comes in the form of a giant water puddle timidly lapping at the toebox of your shoes, and a pair of men arguing several feet to your right.
One of them, tall, muscular, and wearing the sluttiest, chest-revealing body suit you've ever seen, sporting a greasy ponytail and douchey sunglasses, is swearing loudly at the other one. You didn't need to read his giant red-hot aura to know he was seriously pissed about something.
"...don't you ever think before you act, you little wet bitch?"
"I, um-"
"I, um, uh, ooooooh I pissed my paaaants" the taller one mocks with an accent you don't recognize, "Shut up."
"Hey!" The shorter one, wearing swim goggles and a blue and yellow rubber suit, stops twiddling with his hands and forces himself to stand up straight. "I-I didn't mean to. Okay? It was- is an accident. Maybe try- have- learn some-to get some patience. Jeez."
His orange aura of confidence is genuine, but it's too big and too small on him all at once. He wears it like a poorly tailored suit. Splotches of sickly green anxiety are mixed in. Its clear he's trying something different today.
Good for him, you think, stepping carefully around the puddle- which seems to be dripping from the man in the wet suit. Water powers then. No wonder they don't get along.
You tune out their arguing as you make your way through the lobby, smiling and nodding at people you pass by. Most of them ignore you. You give up.
You make your way to the elevator and down to the archive room, never once stopping to ask for directions or looking at signage. The stars show you the way. Always.
You feel something in your fingertips dissipate when you make it to your destined location, and you stop in front of a dingy wooden door. You let yourself in and sit on a stool, not bothering to turn on the lights. You have some time before this Robert guy is supposed to show, so you quietly contemplate those four words.
Synergy. Phoenix. Coffee. Apricity.
Whether those words will make sense today or in the long term, you don't know. You swallow the annoyance clawing it's way out of your stomach.
You hate being patient. It's infuriating that you are capable of seeing what others do not, and it's still not enough to satisfy you.
Your fingertips buzz.
The door is about to open. You hear footsteps in your mind before you actually hear them, and you know you should turn the lights on to avoid looking like a weirdo, but you don't. You can't bring yourself to care. People think you're weird no matter what you do.
As predicted, the door swings open to reveal a tall, lanky man with an over-sized standard SDN issued shirt. Robert. You see his aura even before he flips the light on. Its just different shades of blue. You don't care enough to dissect them yet.
You don't flinch when he flips the switch, but he does- both from the sudden brightness, and because you startled him.
"You assumed there was no one in here," you say, mostly to yourself.
"Uh..."
You made him uncomfortable.
"Yeeahhh... Most people don't just... sit in the dark like a Bond villain." He looks you up and down, assessing you. He looks tired, but there's a certain lightness about him. A great change, you think to yourself.
"I'm Robert," he says, sticking a hand out for you to take. You do. "Oracle, right? Blaz- uh...Mandy told me you'd be joining us for the first time today. Thanks for filling in. We need all the help we can get around here," he chuckles.
You want to ask him about whatever burden he's been relieved of, but you learned the hard way that people don't like it when you ask questions like that. You have to wait for them to go first. They don't like being analyzed by a stranger. They only want surface level discussions about the weather, or whatever was on TV last night. Nobody wants to talk about why their gross sickly green aura is stinking up the cubicle next to you that day, or why their usually pastel pink aura is suddenly flushed purple with lust when they make eye contact with that guy across the room. You see it differently. Its just making conversation.
Annoyance nips at the back of your mind again.
Patience.
"Pleased to meet you," you say mechanically.
Robert nods awkwardly. You're not what he expected.
"Right, so... Sorry I'm late. I got a little held up. Didn't mean to keep you waiting." He lets go of your hand and starts towards one of the shelves, inspecting each one until he finds what he's looking for.
"You arrived exactly when I knew you would," you reassure him. "Don't apologize."
He gives you a sidelong glance over his shoulder.
"Right."
You failed to reassure him.
This is a dance you've done several times every day your whole life. You always seem to make people uncomfortable, no matter how normal you try to seem. You never get lost in the city, but socializing is a jungle you just can't navigate.
Your neck tingles.
"That's the one you're looking for," you say, pointing to a box just above his head.
He gives you an odd look. You don't understand. Weren't you being helpful?
"Um...thanks. How'd you know that?" He heaves it down with some effort, having to balance it precariously as he reaches on his tip-toes. You shrug.
"I just know things."
"Oh. Right...Um, Mandy gave me a brief explanation of your powers. Frankly, I'm a little excited." He shifts the box in his arms and carries it to the table you were seated at previously. "It might be nice to have someone with predictive powers on our side for once."
He digs through the box, rifling between folders until he finds the dusty floppy disc he's looking for.
"Plus, your astral projection sounds cool as fuck- uh, 'scuse my French. You ever use it in the field?"
You shrug again. "Occasionally. I'm not good at being inconspicuous though. My astral avatar is intangible, so there's no risk of getting hurt or knocking things over. It's difficult to multitask though."
"Oh...I guess I had this mental image of you, like, meditating and having to concentrate super hard to maintain it, or whatever. That's interesting." He powers on the computer. It looks ancient. You know it's going to take several minutes to start up, and decide there's time to explain further. He does seem genuinely interested. Most people aren't.
"It's sort of like...controlling a video game character. I see through my physical eyes when they're open, and my metaphysical ones when the physical are closed. I try to keep one eye open and one eye closed to control both forms at once...like a split-screen TV. It's easy to get them mixed up, though. And, if I try to speak, my voice comes through both forms. So, if my avatar is hiding somewhere, but someone in the office asks me a question..."
"You're likely to give away your position," he finishes for you.
You nod. "Yeah."
The computer plays a soft tune, indicating it's finally powered to life.
"One time, I tried to make myself a cup of coffee in the break room while tailing this one villain," you continue to ramble, "But then, my coworker came in and just like, immediately launched into some juicy gossip. It was so fucking funny- uh..." you realize your mistake and look at Robert to apologize, but he seems unphased by your profanity. He gestures for you to continue.
"Um, it was so funny, I couldn't stop laughing. But, the guy I was following heard me laughing and the mission ended up compromised. I got a real lecture about that one. I had to project from the broom closet from then on."
Robert exhales a soft laugh from his nose. You think it's the polite 'I'm pretending to laugh so I don't make you feel bad' kind, but his ocean of an aura turns pink around the edges. You gather he's just not very emotive. Lucky for your powers, then.
He fiddles with the computer for a moment, and you take his distraction as an opportunity to examine his aura a little further. Just...so much blue. There's some grief, fatigue, loneliness. The way he carries himself tells you that the deep dark blues have shrunk recently, giving way to the lighter shades of determination and calm. Even the pink is slow to fade. The grief is still heavy, but the loneliness is what strikes you. Where dark indigo gobs form, they almost instantly fade to a soft teal.
He's made connections. He's lonely, but no longer alone.
His tired voice drags you from your thoughts.
"Alright, let's get started, shall we?"
You meet his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders tells you he caught you staring. Neither of you choose to acknowledge it though.
"Sure."
"Alright, here's the team. They've already entered the field for the day, but we'll meet at lunch so you can introduce yourself. Go ahead and scroll through the pages and familiarize yourself. Feel free to ask questions." He retreats into his phone, and you do as you're told.
At the top of the screen, the words Phoenix Program Database are emblazoned in an absolutely prehistoric font.
Phoenix. So there's your first sign. You're on the right path.
You knew from the email you got this morning that this was a team of former villains. You would not have guessed that the man in the dorky wet suit from the lobby would have been on this team as well. There were no crimes listed on his profile. Unsurprising.
You quickly click through each tab, committing their names and powers to memory, but nothing else. You already know there is nothing here that will be useful to you yet.
"Okay," you say, "What's next?"
Robert looks up, a little surprised. "That was quick."
You shrug. "I read fast."
"Alright then," he pushes the eject button on the console and powers it off. "Any questions?"
"The one in the wet suit...he's committed no crimes. Why has he been admitted to this program?"
"Well..." he slides the floppy disc back into it's sleeve, "Waterboy is...how do I say this nicely.... We don't just rehabilitate villains, we also lift up struggling heroes."
You think back to your last performance review. You'd been reprimanded, again, for sending your avatar to the office instead of going yourself. And, apparently, you'd made a new hire uncomfortable. Your supervisor's explanation did little to help you understand. Something clicks in your mind.
"Hey, listen..." you meet Robert's eyes, "Waterboy's got a lot to learn, but he's come a long way. He's been a real asset to the team. Don't go underestimating him, okay?"
He's misinterpreted your body language. This is not uncommon.
"No, I'm...sure he's fine. I was just thinking about why I've been admitted to this program."
Robert hesitates. "Because...your powers are an asset to us, and we had a gap that needed filling?"
You study his aura. He's still uncomfortable. Why?
"I suspect I was not up to par for the standards of my last branch."
He clicks his tongue. "Hey, I know we're a zany bunch, but there's nothin' we can't handle. We might not have all the resources Downtown does, but we do our best with what we've got, and we're there for each other, always. We had a gap that needed filling. It's not personal. Don't get hung up on the details of your past; this is a fresh start, right?"
There's that word again. Details.
He doesn't have your powers but he could still see your humiliation. This makes you feel worse. You try to shake it off.
The job is the same even if the building and the people are different.
A great change.
You knew this was coming. You knew it was necessary. You didn't expect to feel embarrassed.
You stand up and try to focus on the other three words.
Follow the signs, you tell yourself. Move forward.
"Right."
"Awesome." He moves to put the box where he found it.
"Come on, I'll show you to our workspace. The main office is closed for construction, because of...well, y'know." He gestures vaguely, not finishing his sentence.
"Shroud," you finish.
"Right."
You already know where you're supposed to go, but you let him lead the way anyhow. You don't want to be rude. There's an awkward silence between the two of you as you walk, punctuated by the echoes of your footsteps on cold tile floor. You try to think of things to talk about, but every subject that comes to mind feels wildly inappropriate and invasive. Normally you'd ask anyway, but given he's your new boss and you literally just met him, you decide you want to stay on good terms; for now, at least.
He leads you down two more floors, to a rather cramped looking room filled with desks pushed haphazardly together and a mess of cords all over the floor. In the far corner is a microwave, a mini fridge, a coffee maker, and a printer. You imagine it'd be too easy to bump shoulder to shoulder trying to use any of those appliances. You hope you'll have the chance to project from home to avoid that mess.
"Well, here we are..." Robert announces, "home sweet home."
"Where is everyone?" The room is starkly empty, despite the mess.
"Most people got the week off. Not us lucky sons a' bitches though." He claps your back, making you wheeze. He's unexpectedly strong. "People never run out of problems for us to solve."
He plops down in front of one of the computers, only slightly less ancient looking than the last one, and gestures for you to take the seat next to him. You do.
"I know you don't need me to train you, but I'll just have you shadow me for today...unless there's an emergency or something. That should help you get to know the team a little bit without having to interact with them too much."
You're grateful you get to be sort of a hermit for the time being, but you guess that's not what he was trying to do.
"I...don't catch your meaning."
"Oh, I thought you knew things?" He grins slyly, but retracts when you bristle instead of returning it. "Sorry. It's just- they can be a little abrasive at first. Takes 'em some time to get comfortable with new people."
"I see."
You don your headset and turn on your computer. Like all the others, it's so retro it's...well, actually, its a little charming. The computers at the downtown branch were top-of-the-line and you found yourself frequently worried you were going to break it somehow. They don't pay you nearly enough to even dream of replacing it. This one will not be a problem.
The familiar beige and teal UI blooms to life on the screen, revealing a map of Torrance and a selection of heroes to choose from. You notice one of them is missing.
"Invisigal...She isn't working today?"
You glance at Robert, who's aura shifts to a soft teal.
"Um, no...she won't be back for a while. She was injured in the fight on Friday."
Your neck tingles. He's wrong. You'll meet her tomorrow. But he's telling the truth...
"Peculiar," you mumble.
"What is?"
You meet his eyes then immediately look away, embarrassed. You didn't mean to say that out loud.
"You're telling the truth, but you're also wrong. She's coming back tomorrow."
"What?" He looks perplexed. "She's in the hospital though. No way she recovers from an injury like that, that fast."
You shrug.
"Look, I don't have the details." Details. "But she will be here."
"That's ominous," he says slowly.
You suppress a frustrated sigh.
Why is he so uncomfortable? What the fuck are you doing wrong?
"Okay," he says, changing the subject, "that's enough procrastinating I think. Let's get this show on the road."
He puts on his own headset and clicks the middle button.
"Hey, everybody."
It's a strange sensation, to hear him both in your headset and in person. There's an odd delay you find distracting.
A chorus of voices crackles over your own headset, all of them cheerfully greeting Robert in reply.
" Eyy what's up bittchhh," Flambae says last. He sounds slightly out of breath. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming in today."
"Aww, did you miss me?" Robert teases back.
"Bro would not shut up about you," says Malevola, "I'm starting to think he's got a crush on you."
"Come on we all knew that already," cackles Punch Up.
"Alright, alright," Robert cuts in, "Enough of that. Guys, I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of our team real quick. Oracle, say 'hi'."
"Hi."
"Oracle?" Sonar's speech bubble icon appears, "Like that one comic book character?"
"Wait, the one with the wheelchair and everything?" Punch Up again, "She's real?"
Robert looks like he's about to respond for you, but you beat him to it.
"Um, no. I'm not nearly that cool. I can actually predict the future though." You squash the 'Sort of' still stuck in the back of your throat.
"Whoa..." Water boy this time, "Can you-would you- do you know what I'll have- what I'll eat for dinner? Tonight?"
"Watch out, Waterboy's makin' smooth moves on the new hire already," Sonar teases.
"That's not what he meant," you say. You can't read his aura through the screen but you know it's true anyway. "I don't know what you will eat, but you should avoid sandwiches...unless you like soggy bread."
There's an awkward silence. Your joke falls flat. You expected this.
"Anyway," Robert clears his throat, "She'll be shadowing me for today. You'll have an opportunity to introduce yourselves in person during lunch. Please try to behave yourselves so we don't scare her off on day one, yeah?"
"No promises," Flambae huffs.
The first shift goes by smoothly, but painstakingly slow. What few calls do come in are mostly minor inconveniences and one petty street robbery. There's time aplenty for conversation between the two of you, but neither of you make any. You decide you've done enough damage for one morning, and Robert awkwardly tries to busy himself with "paperwork" between calls.
Eventually you can't take it anymore. You are so fucking bored.
"I'm going to check on my cat," you lie. You saddle down in your chair and close your eyes like you're going to take a nap. "Hope you don't mind. She's elderly and has separation anxiety. She starts peeing on all my stuff if she's alone for too long."
"I get it. I take my dog to the office sometimes 'cuz I worry about him too much," Robert chuckles.
You open your eyes. "What's his name?"
Robert looks at you for a moment, then swivels his chair around to look at you properly.
"Beef," he smiles. "Wanna see a photo?" pink and orange affection tinges his aura. To say 'no' would be to break his heart.
"Absolutely I do," you say, and you mean it. You sit up as Robert taps his phone to show you his wallpaper.
'Beef' is the fattest, dumbest looking dog you've ever seen in your life.
"Robert," you say as seriously as possible, "why have you chosen to keep this creature from me?"
He snorts, and the pink grows brighter. A tiny burst of excitement leaps in your chest- you genuinely amused him. You finally did something right.
"I'll bring him in tomorrow, I promise. I would never dare deprive anyone of their weekly dose of Beef." He grins lopsidedly as he puts his phone down.
"Just weekly?" you pretend to pout.
Robert's response is cut off by a chirp from his computer, and he holds up a finger to say 'one second'. Pink and orange returns to bluish grey as his attention shifts, and you remember your previous lie.
You do have a cat, but she is not elderly, nor prone to peeing on things. In reality, you keep your TV turned on all day with your favorite show streaming. You often project yourself to your living room to tune in when work is slow.
You close your eyes and do just that. The familiar sights and sounds of your living room blooms into view behind your eyelids, and your cat does little more than look up from her napping spot on the windowsill when she senses your presence.
You smile at her, wishing you could give her a good scratch behind the ears, and turn your attention to the TV.
It's currently playing Hot People Paradise Island, your current favorite trashy TV show. These people are so superficial. Always causing fights. Hooking up with people when they had promised themselves to another. And so, so much crying. So much drunk partying. Plus, you can't see anyone's aura through the screen, which makes it more interesting. You can't predict when people are lying this way.
It's such a train wreck. But you can't look away.
You stand there staring hypnotized at your screen longer than you meant to.
A man dances drunkenly with a woman who gyrates her ass on his crotch. He's way too into it. Across the island, his girlfriend tells the interviewer she has faith in him to stay true to her. The camera cuts back to the man and woman, now making out in a hot tub.
"Nooooo Ricardo...how could you do this?" you groan to yourself.
"Ricardo?" You hear Robert's voice to your right, but he's not there when you turn to look. You suddenly remember you're actually at work right now.
Your eyes fly open, and you're greeted with the scathing fluorescent lights of the office, rather than the soft warm glow of your living room lamp.
"Who's Ricardo, and what has he done to you?" Robert rests his cheek against his fist, amusement painting his face.
"Um..." you try to decide whether you should tell the truth or not. Robert seems lax enough, but he is still your boss, and you do really like this job. You decide to play it safe.
"My...landlord. Replaced my warm light bulbs with cold ones."
Robert pretends to sneer. "Ew, gross. I'm so sorry."
You sigh dramatically and slump your shoulders. "I don't know how I could possibly go on..."
Robert snorts again. "Come on, it's about time for lunch. Ready to meet the team?"
Your neck tingles. Something important is about to happen. You get the feeling you should be prepared to duck.
"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."