Chapter Text
“One. Two. Three. Foooooouuuuurrrrr. Annnnndddddd fiv-OH! So close!” Jabber exclaimed, voice way too loud in the small cavern.
Momoa cringed as the sound messed with her already ringing head as she collapsed to the floor and rolled over onto her back from her position on the ground.
“Ya know, my claws currently have a wonderful little poison that’ll kick your system into overdrive,” Jabber said, kicking up some dirt for emphasis. He crouched down next to Momoa on the floor, his eyes glowing purple as he manifested Mankira’s left claws. “Could be just the pick-me-up you need!”
“I’m good,” Momoa said. She brushed some dirt from her front and went to sit up. Her head swam with vertigo even with her being as gentle as she could manage and she clutched onto the headphones hanging around her neck with one hand. “Got enough stuff messing with me from the Information Broker.”
“Did anything you get out of him detail how pathetic not managing five push ups is? Cause it is, if you didn’t know,” Jabber said, his head cocking to the side with his signature grin spread across his face.
Momoa ignored him and continued fiddling with Asyl, anxiously gripping at the leather of the headband.
“You ever gonna put those on again?” Jabber asked her.
Momoa just held up her arm for Jabber to take and haul her to her feet instead of responding. She stumbled a bit as her would-be physical therapist paid no mind to her head pain and shot equilibrium.
When Momoa had finally regained consciousness after the incident with Kuro the Information Broker, it had been with the most splitting headache she’d ever endured. Zodyl was keyed to how screwy her brain was being with her and kept his interrogations over what she’d extracted from Kuro’s memories brief.
They still left her irritated and occasionally bleeding from her nose but the boss had been very respectful to her recovery. Which is why he had appointed Jabber to help with her rehabilitation. Momoa was never close to physically imposing but what little muscle she did have had heavily atrophied while comatose.
Shame the dreadlocked Raider had done nothing for her head with his energy.
Jabber escorted her from the room out to the common area of the Raiders’ hideaway as Momoa continued to toy with her Jinki and ignore how uncomfortable she was from Jabber questioning her about it.
Asyl had always been her trusted refuge. Something she could retreat into to weather all the shittyness of life on the Ground. Even with something as invasive and personal as hearing other people’s memories, there was a solitude that came from her immersing herself in them and it gave her material to scare most people off with.
But that was violated now. Kuro had completely overwhelmed her, cost her a month of her life and left her unable to trust placing her headphones back over her ears, much less use her powers again. And there was nothing more painful than not tuning out everything as her life was at its most chaotic.
Jabber deposited her at the rotting wooden table they had and walked off. It was broken and only half the height it used to be so the Raiders had converted it into a sitting table. The only light in the room came from the fridge against one wall as Jabber opened it and the lantern of Cthoni, who had already been eating at the table.
Momoa stretched her arms across the surface of the table, keeping her mind off Asyl by examining her nails. The metal ones she normally wore had been removed while she was comatose so there was no risk of infection but her real ones were overly long and coated in grime.
Beauty regimen is hard to upkeep when you’re lying unconscious for a month. Her hair had been a matted mess too when she woke up and she’d had to have Jabber comb through it since she didn’t have the strength to do it herself.
“Hey, Cthoni,” Momoa called.
The manhole bearer just gave a grunt in acknowledgment, mouth full of sandwich.
“How soon today could you and Jabber go shopping?” Momoa asked. “There’s some stuff I need.”
Cthoni swallowed the food in her mouth before eyeing the girl .
“Like what?” She asked.
Momoa just flashed Cthoni the backs of her hands.
“We’re outta that weird water you like too,” Jabber added, returning to the table with a leftover takeout box for himself and handing Momoa a bottle of plain water and a granola bar.
Cthoni was unimpressed by Momoa’s meager demands but then looked down at her Vital Instrument set beside her in its case.
“I’m busy. I can drop you, but you’ll have to take care of yourself. Jabber, you’re going with her,” She said, unzipping her manhole cover.
“What, now?” Jabber questioned, food spitting from his open mouth.
“Yeah. Maybe some fresh air’ll clear your head enough to make Kuro’s information useful, Momoa.”
Momoa ignored the jab and took a swig of water before standing up, the hydration bringing some stability back to herself but she still swayed and leaned on Jabber.
“Stay where you are, Momoa. I will accompany Jabber,” came a deep voice from the entryway. Zodyl strode in toward the other Raiders, causing Jabber to excitedly jump up and unsteady Momoa again.
“Mission between just me and the boss? Those are always fun!” he exclaimed.
“What’s the word from Bundus?” Cthoni asked.
“I will elaborate on that to you later, but there will be supplies we’ll be needing before our next action. I can stack your errands onto that. What are your requests?”
“File, clippers, some polish and carbonated water I guess,” Momoa listed.
“Oh yeah, I need some polish for Mankira too. It’s some different stuff than what Momoa wants though. Cthoni wasn’t specific when she told me to get polish for her manhole last time either,” Jabber added.
“Bring me hot pink nail polish instead of finishing product like that again and my foot’ll go up YOUR manhole this time,” Cthoni threatened as she opened a portal before them.
Jabber cackled for a second before stopping and looking confused.
“Wait, does that me you’ll kick me in my ass or in my-“ he started before Zodyl shoved him through the wormhole. The boss watched Momoa half-collapse back to the floor with no load bearing Jabber anymore before turning to Cthoni.
“Look after her,” he simply ordered, before stepping through the wormhole himself.
The swirling vortex of blue and yellow light faded and collapsed in on itself, leaving the two women with only the soft violet light from Cthoni’s lantern on the table surface again.
The manhole wielder glared at Momoa following her new orders and continued to finish her lunch with a palpable air of contempt.
Momoa had never exactly been friendly with the rest of the Raider’s Frontline, Cthoni included, but it generally ended at indifference as Momoa would quietly mind to herself behind Asyl’s earmuffs. But now she only readjusted the height the muffs sat at and had no barrier to ignore the animosity.
Cthoni caught the fidgeting and rolled her eyes, swallowing the last of her sandwich and getting up to toss the plate in the trash. When she returned to the table she just sat with her arms crossed and stared Momoa down.
The unwarranted hostility was getting annoying and against her typical character, Momoa inquired about someone else’s problem. Albeit with no good intention.
“Busy, huh?” Momoa said, remembering Cthoni’s excuse for not errand running.
“Some of us actually have jobs we do that don’t require Zodyl leading us by the hand,” Cthoni shot. “But I guess that’s pushed back so you can be babysat. Like the rest of our operation apparently.”
Momoa cocked an eyebrow and Cthoni elaborated with a self satisfied grin now replacing her scowl.
“Pried all that stuff out of the Information Broker but got no idea about what’s actually happening now, huh?” Cthoni mocked. “Bundus actually got a lead that didn’t require all of your literal headaches to learn. But Zodyl hasn’t moved us yet because of you.”
The glare returned with the final sentence and carried into her new rant.
“We’re in open war with the Cleaners, I’ve had to duck Hellguard patrols that’ve locked a few towns out of ever being warped to again and just last week Jabber had to clear through some losers looking to score the bounty now on anyone who carries our lantern. But no, you’re the boss’ main concern because your head hurts a little.”
Momoa had stopped fiddling with her headphones somewhere through the lecture because she didn’t want to break them as Cthoni’s words came close to setting her off.
Momoa had had similar words directed at her before. A lot. People mad at her for just being there, like acknowledging her existence was a burden onto them no matter how little attention Momoa called for herself.
She’d endured a lot of verbal abuse her whole life. Her parents, her teachers, her manager and every other adult in her life all seemed convinced yelling about how useless Momoa was to her face would convince her to do something other than make her walk out.
Manifesting Asyl’s powers and joining up with the Raiders had been very cathartic. Now she scared people off just by talking back and had the backing of the others whenever someone particularly arrogant has chosen to make themselves a problem to Momoa. Some people would even pick up on the lantern hanging from her belt or purple quilt sewn onto her coat and leave just when she walked in somewhere.
But through all of that, Momoa had to avoid getting mad. Lashing out at authority only made it strike back, and when she was little she’d learned to just put her headphones on, listen to music and eventually the rest of the world would go away. She avoided complaining so much that when Asyl stopped working she just never told anyone and-
*CLAP!*
Momoa blinked twice as she snapped out of the trance she just realized she was in. Cthoni lowered her arms from in front of Momoa’s face and crossed them again, now standing in front of her instead of sitting across the table.
“Can’t even put the headphones on and still can’t fucking listen,” Cthoni said. It sounded muffled even without Momoa wearing her headphones due to a ringing in her ears.
Momoa became aware of a pain in her palms and when looking at her hands realized she’d clutched her fists so hard her nails had dug into the flesh. It stung to unclench them and stretch the marks but her skull was throbbing and the pain in her hands didn’t compare to the one in her head.
“You could do to at least talk when someone tries speaking with you,” Cthoni continued.
“Okay,” Momoa said, keeping all emotion out of her voice.
Cthoni's eyes narrowed, not appreciating the cheek but she took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders.
“Whatever,” Cthoni said as she turned away. She slumped against one wall and set about entertaining herself by spinning her manhole in the dirt like an oversized coin.
Left alone, Momoa reached back up to her headphones but her fingers grazed something else as she did so.
Grabbing and then uncapping it, the capsule hanging from her choker came away. It held pills that she’d normally take one of to alleviate the headaches caused by overusing Asyl’s powers. Momoa chuckled to herself how minor those instances seemed in comparison to what she’d recently endured.
She upturned the capsule, depositing three in her hand which she downed with a swig from the bottle of water. She laid back, carefully removing Asyl from her neck so as to not strain it under her weight.
She held it above her head, contemplating wearing it again. She wished for the comforting lull they brought her but scattered flashes of what seemed like a hundred different lifetimes reared back in her mind with the thought. Cthoni had stormed off to the other side of the room anyway and the medication would kick in after a bit, Momoa would make do with that for now.