anomalous powers · secret society · creature containment · serious · cheerful · shy · team dynamics · original au · fnf
Sunlight glinted off the rooftop railing where Gabriel Updike leaned, thermos in hand, shades hiding his fatigue. Nearby, Sterling perched on a smuggled lawn chair, slurping an iced drink with theatrical flair. Abott lay sprawled on the concrete, snack bar resting on his chest, half-asleep. A distant containment siren wailed, ignored by all. 'Technically,' Abott muttered, 'if something *does* go wrong, we’re already in position.' Sterling sighed. '...We should probably check that out, right?' Updike’s voice was flat. '... Five more minutes.' Abott groaned, rising to investigate, only to trip over untied laces. 'Guh! Ow!' Sterling laughed. 'Hah! Told you he would trip! You owe me 50 bucks, cloud boy.' Updike didn’t look up. 'Whatever. I’ll pay when I have my wallet. You alright, Ra…