Orange hair is tangled into a mess of filth and blood. Waking up from deep slumber. She cracks her eyes open through the formed crust. A familiar ceiling peers into her view. Followed by different retro games and consoles scattered around her room.
A hunger inducing smell travels through the air, finding its way into her bloody nose. A mixture of iron and a delicious variety of foods enter her nose. Alerting her stomach to how ravenous she is.
Getting up from bed, she wipes the bloody snot out of her nose. Checking herself over in the mirror, the events of the night before left their mark. Pulling out a stray twig. "I don't think I've had to be in that much of a hurry since highschool".
"I hope he's alright". Worry entered her mind, but her hands were tied. There wasn't much more she could do. An odd solace is felt in response, having done all she can.
Taking a brush to her hair fruitlessly, she just heads toward the enticing scent. Not caring to take the tangled brush out. Her frizzy orange hair begins to matt.
Entering the dining room, like clockwork their dog Luna trots her way to Kiara. Checking her down until she's satisfied. Before making her way eagerly to her food bowl.
Grabbing herself a seat. The concerned eyes of her mother fall upon her. "Your father told me what happened. Over Usage. I'm just glad you're okay, but we want to know why. Normally we get you used to your drawback in a safe environment, not like this".
Cutting into his breakfast shoveling back the calories spent on the whole ordeal. "Like I said, she made a friend. I think it was admirable what she did. The nurses thought so". He says chewing through grizzled meat and yolky eggs.
"Either way, you need to be more careful. What would have happened if you gave out before the hospital. You have no idea what threats lurk out there". A shiver runs down her mothers spine, chastising her daughter in the process.
"I will be more aware, i had to help him though he would've died otherwise. He was struck by the storm and a lot of it". Kiara's says sipping through her coffee.
"He was struck by that, how is even alive". Her mother's bewilderment and shock dominate the room.
That was one of the worst storms we've had in Boreal, I don't know how he survived. I'm glad you helped him". Warm admiration for her daughter finds its way throughout. Proud of her girl.
"But you shouldn't forget about everything else in the pursuit of your desired outcome. It will catch up to you faster than you think". Her mothers experience leaking out despite the warm tone..
Seeing her daughter's dreadful state she can't help but yank out the brush and detangle the monstrosity before her. "You need to take better care of your hair Kiara"
Her mother ruthlessly brushes throughout the mats, forcefully breaking them apart. "Mom, Ow, that hurts, relax". Wincing in response to the reshaping of the mess on her head.
"I'll be done in just a minute, eat your breakfast". Continuing to break through the tangled mess of orange, blood and plant matter, The frizz slowly starts to become tamed. A uniform look is seen in the rebellious orange.
Her father interjects "You need to keep an eye out going forward Kiara. Something is brewing beneath the surface. I haven't figured out what yet. But keep your distance from those retakes". Her father says finishing his coffee.
"What's gonna happen"? Kiara, quick to respond as always.
"I don't know, but we will find out soon won't we".
Present
Leaving the burger shack at last, the siblings head to their humble abode. Crunching up the bag and scoring it in the trash flawlessly, nothing but bag.
"Since when were you good at landing shots". Raven says her curiosity starts to dominate her mind, noticing the changes in her brother. More closely than himself.
"Lucky today I guess. Thought i spent it all" His nervous innocence dissuading her from pressing.
After a brisk walk they are met by their sanctuary. A humble worn down flat. Home nonetheless. Kicking off their shoes. They both enter.
Blake does his return checkup of the flat, the responsibility etching itself into him. I'm the older brother so I have to look after us. Bubbling thoughts come up to the surface upon checking their meter.
Dwindling energy credit fills his eyes. Irritating him as usual. "Just because we're not deemed useful yet they put us in this circumstance. An unusual bubbling anger forms.
"Things will change" He mutters to himself.
Static starts to spark around him, reminding him again of what he's gained. "I'm not the same as I was, I've learned some things".
Putting his hand out to the meter. Exhaling, he gains his concentration. Remembering the impact of his actions. Change dominates his mind, even if it's one small step at a time.
"I refuse to let us stagnate like before, not after all that's happened". Remembering the feeling of the electro limb he replicates it in his flesh. The familiar vicious pins and needles start to dominate his flesh. Guiding the static to his palm now.
[Technique learned]
[Power supply: By using your own bio energy you can send electricity into objects]
[Cost: 5 Energy]
[Y/N]
[35/50 Energy]
His desire acts like a yes for the system, allowing the technique to happen. The dwindling metre slowly starts to rise in response to the energy supplied. An odd buzzing is heard throughout the meter until a familiar ring is heard.
The sound of credit being refilled, rings throughout the flat. "Blake, did you resupply the power again? I told you it was my turn"! An irritated tone is heard as crossed arms enter view.
"What the hell, you can't keep covering everything". Ravens annoyance getting the better of her
"Haha". A nervous laugh escapes him, followed by a guilty scratch of his face.
"It's my treat sis don't worry about it". Trying to brush it off as best he can.
"You paid for dinner when you just got out of the hospital and now you're refilling the credit. No more, this is the last one. It's my turn to cover the house". A stern tone emits from her, hair starting to float in the air.
"Are we clear?". A grave expression forms on her face.
"Yes, of course sis". Appeasing her oncoming fury the best way he can.
Walking up the stairs with built up exhaustion throughout the previous incidents. He makes his way to his room. Crash landing on his bed. Puffs of dirt and sweat enter the air. His bedding practically begging for a wash.
"Time to go down memory lane dad" opening the journal, he's met with a humble surprise. One old utopian cigarette.
Sparking it without hesitation. He is grateful once again, exhaling the dry smoke. His father is always seemingly guiding him even if he's not there.