Chapter 15: Team Movie Night
The Peacemaker safehouse was a cluttered sanctuary, its mismatched furniture and scattered gear a reflection of the team's chaotic bond. The air was thick with the buttery sweetness of microwaved popcorn, mingling with the faint metallic tang of Peacemaker's polished helmet, perched on a coffee table littered with energy drink cans. Jax sprawled on a sagging couch, a fleece blanket draped over his legs, the soft fabric a comfort against the psychic scars of the stakeout. His threadbare t-shirt clung to his skin, and he fiddled with a popcorn kernel stuck to his sleeve, the mundane act grounding him in the relaxed setup. The projector's whirr filled the room, its faint heat warming the space as the team settled in.
Peacemaker burst in, cradling a massive box of fruity cereal, his red-and-blue suit swapped for sweatpants and a tank top that strained across his chest. "Popcorn's for amateurs. Nothing beats the tactile joy of dry, sugary crunching during emotional cinematic moments. America's finest, baby," he declared, pouring cereal into a mixing bowl, the sugary crunch echoing like gunfire.
Adebayo, sorting DVDs with a small smile, adjusted her glasses, her posture relaxed but precise. "You're going to choke, Chris. Save some for Eagly." Harcourt sat in an armchair, scrolling her phone, her cigarette smoldering in an ashtray, her rigid posture softening slightly in the safehouse's glow, though her foot still tapped a restless rhythm.
Jax's popcorn bowl teetered, kernels spilling onto Harcourt's polished boots. "Great. The popcorn villain strikes again," he muttered, brushing a kernel from his hair, its buttery scent clinging to his fingers. "I swear, this stuff breeds when you're not looking. It's worse than the Butterfly residue." He smirked, settling back, the blanket's warmth a small comfort. "Gotham gloom matches my mood, but this is better than a van," he thought, his tension easing.
[SYSTEM: QUEST ALERT.]
[RELAX WITH TEAM MOVIE NIGHT.]
[CUMULATE SUMMONS: 1.]
[OBJECTIVE: STRENGTHEN TEAM BOND.]
Adebayo popped in The Crimson Justice, a gritty anti-hero flick inspired by Vought's darker days. The projector's light flickered, casting red and blue shadows across their faces, the film's heavy score pulsing like a heartbeat. Crimson Justice made a brutal choice—saving a city by sacrificing criminals—his decision bathed in bloody light.
Jax chuckled, his sarcasm sharp. "From desk hell to disaster magnet—upgrade! See? That's what I call efficiency. He saved the bus and took out three future repeat offenders. Minimal trauma, maximum result. A textbook grey win."
Peacemaker nodded, cereal crunching loudly. "Yeah! He did what needed to be done for peace! The greater good requires a total commitment to the mission. I'm a goddamn legend!"
Adebayo set her bowl down, her voice firm but empathetic. "No. That's Vought logic. It's the kind of thinking that justifies collateral damage and calls it heroism. Ethics matter, even here. The moment we stop questioning the means, we become the villains we're trying to stop."
Jax paused, his water bottle crinkling as he fidgeted, her words hitting his pragmatic core. "Fair point, Analyst. You've got a hell of a moral anchor. Good to know someone is." "She's right, but grey wins are my reality," he thought, respecting her clarity as he avoided eye contact.
Eagly swooped, stealing a crunchberry from Peacemaker's bowl, its talons clicking on the table. "Eagly, sharing is peace, but not my crunchberries," Peacemaker grumbled, the absurdity breaking the tension, his laugh booming.
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE INCREASED TO 2.]
[+5 SP ADDED (BONDING EVENT).]
[CURRENT SP: 175.]
The credits rolled, the projector's blue glow softening the room, leaving a heavy silence. Peacemaker's voice was low, stripped of bravado. "It's hard, man. Carrying all that baggage. It slows you down. Makes the missions dirtier. It's not worth it."
Jax stared at the ceiling, his own loss—a life left behind—stirring in his chest. "Baggage is just the cost of admission to this life. I left… I left a lot of stuff behind. Missed adventures. And when you look back, the memory can fade in the references. It makes you wonder what was real, and what's just the mission." His words hinted at his transmigration, a fractured truth that hung in the air.
Harcourt's phone glowed, her silence a shield, but a twitch near her eye betrayed her. "Stop the therapy session," she snapped, her voice brittle as she stubbed out her cigarette. "We have a mission tomorrow." She listened, though, her posture softening slightly, absorbing the shared pain.
Adebayo broke the silence, her tone professional. "Harcourt's right. The asset transfer tomorrow is critical. A.R.G.U.S. Asset 23, high-value tech. We need to be focused. We'll be running an escort mission through a high-traffic area. We need a solid plan, not existential dread."
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE HOLDS AT 2.]
[NO POINTS ADDED.]
Jax leaned back, the blanket's warmth a small comfort against the looming mission. "From chaos to teamwork. Let's not screw this up," he thought, the memory fade and Harcourt's lapse lingering like a shadow, pulling him toward the escort ambush.
[SYSTEM: RANDOM FLAVOR: MEMORY FADE DETECTED.]
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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