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LIVING WITHOUT POWERS was something that Althea never imagined she would have to do. Granted, living without her sister wasn't something she imagined either.
After Lola vanished, eventually she took Althea's powers with her. It was undoubtedly startling to say the least when one day, Althea could reverse a window shattering and the next, she could only rewind a tv with a remote.
Althea did adapt, of course, but it was hard and it just further solidified that the bond with her sister had been unbelievably shattered. She was still clueless as to how to retrieve her sister—or if she even could—and it was always a devastating thought.
But with change comes growth, at least that's how it's supposed to happen.
"You'll do fine," Althea assured into the phone that was pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she attempted to stir a pot on the stove. "Because I heard it and it was good."
Shifting to hold the phone now, Althea quirked an eyebrow knowing she couldn't possibly be seen.
"You do this everytime, Vanya," Althea hummed, tapping her fingers against the counter. "You psych yourself out before you even get there. You know, go to this audition and then maybe I give you some of this homemade spaghetti I'm making." After a moment, Althea faked a gasp. "You haven't even tried it! I'm hanging up, you'll do great!"
Ending the call, Althea tossed her phone on the counter and turned towards her haphazard arrangement of pans.
Truthfully, how she managed to befriend Vanya Hargreeves still felt elusive to her. They went out for tea at one of her book signings and now they were actually close friends.
Althea would hardly believe it if it hadn't happened to herself, though she wasn't complaining either. She didn't have many friends herself, save for a few of her neighbors and even then they weren't necessarily 'friendly' so much as they dealt with her.
"Dammit," she huffed suddenly realizing she overcooked her pasta. Scrambling to assemble the soggy noodles and the messily made "tomato sauce", Althea eventually fashioned herself a plate.
Electing to wash dishes later when she could bother with it, she took a seat on her couch and turned the TV on to watch while she ate away—the spaghetti was terrible, mind you, but Althea was hungry.
She was unsure how much time had passed before her program was rudely interrupted with a broadcast. Althea scowled for only a moment before she realized just what the news was trying to tell her.
Sir Reginald Hargreeves was dead.
So much for an appetite now.
______________________
"Thank you. For driving me," Vanya said from the passenger seat as Althea took a momentary glance away from the road to note the fretful expression on Vanya's face.
