It's bad enough that he has exactly zero powers and no one knows who he is, but now this? A power outage, in heat so thick and heavy that he feels like he's suffocating, and no way to escape it? What has poor Homelander done to deserve this?
He is, however, still the head of The Seven, even if The Seven don't exist here and have been reduced to The One, and problem-solving is part of the gig. Homelander doesn't bother trying to actually fix anything; nerd shit has never been his forte, and he has just enough self-awareness to realise he'd probably make things worse if he started tinkering with his new home's wiring. Instead, he finds an old, battered kiddie pool in the basement and drags it up and out onto the lawn. After wrestling a garden hose out of the shed, he hooks it to a faucet on the side of the house and uses it to blast the cobwebs and grime off the pool before filling it up. Then he dumps in a bag of ice he got from the grocery store.
The whole ordeal gets him sweaty and out-of-sorts, his carefully combed hair going all awry and his face red with exertion, but deep down... this is kind of fun. Who knew that doing things the way normies do it and using your hands and mind to solve problems is actually vaguely satisfying?
Once the pool is filled with crisp, cold water, Homelander goes into the house to change into a pair of swim trunks (they're blue with white stars on them, which he also likes), and then settles into his kiddie pool with a six pack of beer. The ice is already starting to melt, but this is the best he's felt since he arrived here.
Puking American Dreams
Homelander is dozing upstairs when the power comes back on. The sudden whooooomp of electricity flowing startles him awake, and he jerks to a sitting position in his bed, suddenly alert and waiting for... what? What could be coming for him, here? He's anonymous for the first time in his life, and the idea that anything would be crawling through the shadows towards him, trying to find him and wrap its cold claws around his neck... well, that's just laughable.
Unless it isn't. Unless this is another one of Vought's tests. And it could be; it could be an insane test devised just for him, to turn him into the greatest Supe that ever was, that ever will be. Maybe the whole point of this is to test him without his powers, to put enough pressure on him to earn them back. It's sadistic, but Homelander is very familiar with the sadistic things Vought will do to make a Supe.
The TV downstairs is on. Homelander slips out of bed and creeps downstairs, looking all around him for traps, for something to spring out of the shadows. Nothing does, and he finds himself standing in the middle of the living room, looking down at the fizzing and spitting TV.
He tries to turn it off, but nothing changes. Homelander frowns, and clicks through the channels, seeing if anything comes across the screen. On the third channel, something does, and his eyes widen.
"Well, well, well." He walks backwards, unable to take his eyes off the screen, until the back of his legs hit the recliner he pulled in front of the TV a few days ago. He sits down, and watches with rapt fascination at what's happening on the screen in front of him.
Homelander | The Boys | ota
This sucks.
It's bad enough that he has exactly zero powers and no one knows who he is, but now this? A power outage, in heat so thick and heavy that he feels like he's suffocating, and no way to escape it? What has poor Homelander done to deserve this?
He is, however, still the head of The Seven, even if The Seven don't exist here and have been reduced to The One, and problem-solving is part of the gig. Homelander doesn't bother trying to actually fix anything; nerd shit has never been his forte, and he has just enough self-awareness to realise he'd probably make things worse if he started tinkering with his new home's wiring. Instead, he finds an old, battered kiddie pool in the basement and drags it up and out onto the lawn. After wrestling a garden hose out of the shed, he hooks it to a faucet on the side of the house and uses it to blast the cobwebs and grime off the pool before filling it up. Then he dumps in a bag of ice he got from the grocery store.
The whole ordeal gets him sweaty and out-of-sorts, his carefully combed hair going all awry and his face red with exertion, but deep down... this is kind of fun. Who knew that doing things the way normies do it and using your hands and mind to solve problems is actually vaguely satisfying?
Once the pool is filled with crisp, cold water, Homelander goes into the house to change into a pair of swim trunks (they're blue with white stars on them, which he also likes), and then settles into his kiddie pool with a six pack of beer. The ice is already starting to melt, but this is the best he's felt since he arrived here.
Puking American Dreams
Homelander is dozing upstairs when the power comes back on. The sudden whooooomp of electricity flowing startles him awake, and he jerks to a sitting position in his bed, suddenly alert and waiting for... what? What could be coming for him, here? He's anonymous for the first time in his life, and the idea that anything would be crawling through the shadows towards him, trying to find him and wrap its cold claws around his neck... well, that's just laughable.
Unless it isn't. Unless this is another one of Vought's tests. And it could be; it could be an insane test devised just for him, to turn him into the greatest Supe that ever was, that ever will be. Maybe the whole point of this is to test him without his powers, to put enough pressure on him to earn them back. It's sadistic, but Homelander is very familiar with the sadistic things Vought will do to make a Supe.
The TV downstairs is on. Homelander slips out of bed and creeps downstairs, looking all around him for traps, for something to spring out of the shadows. Nothing does, and he finds himself standing in the middle of the living room, looking down at the fizzing and spitting TV.
He tries to turn it off, but nothing changes. Homelander frowns, and clicks through the channels, seeing if anything comes across the screen. On the third channel, something does, and his eyes widen.
"Well, well, well." He walks backwards, unable to take his eyes off the screen, until the back of his legs hit the recliner he pulled in front of the TV a few days ago. He sits down, and watches with rapt fascination at what's happening on the screen in front of him.