... I'm tired, hoss. Can I just go one day without being used as someone's verbal punching bag? Is that so much to ask?
|||
You decide that honesty is the best policy. Complete honesty. No lies. No omissions. Nothing.
This is going to go so well.
Despite your reservations, you really do believe that telling Mary the full story, whether she believes you or not, is the best way to go about this. Even though you could probably keep a lie up pretty well, if you did slip up somewhere down the line, she'd never forgive you. Instead of stalling yourself anymore, you decide to just bite the bullet.
"Yeah. Power stuff is weird." You say freely, your mother gone and your father nowhere to eavesdrop, so you feel ok talking about it without lowering your voice. "I went for a shower this morning, and my fat's muscle now."
She blinks once.
"... What?" She ventures.
You lift an arm and gently flex it against your shirt, the fabric straining against your newly bulked bicep. You consider doing some more stuff to show off your newly cultivated mass, but it's uncomfortably tight as is, so you leave it before you rip your shirt open Hulk style.
"... Ah. And that's power related?" She asks.
"Well, yeah, I think so. And I'm absolutely starving, too." You moan, wondering if some bacon and eggs will keep your stomach from gnawing at itself for a while.
"You were kinda pigging out yesterday. Maybe..." Your sister frowns, thinking hard about something. "Maybe your body need the calories to make up for the gain in mass?"
... That's... not entirely implausible. Muscle doesn't appear out of the aether, and you've seen some of the meals the jocks horf down in the cafeteria- it's definitely at least the same volume as one of the meals you've eaten in the past 24 hours, if perhaps slightly different in content.
Ugh, one more thing to think about. Guess you'll have to start putting money aside for protein stuff. Before you can get too wrapped up in that, though, you remember that you'd set out to tell your sister everything for a reason, and continue.
"That's, not all that happened. Last night, I had a really weird dream." You say, mildly beating around the bush for the moment.
"Bird people controlling the world weird?" Mary asks, smiling a little as she tries to keep the mood light. It doesn't last under your barrage of nonreaction.
"... What was it?" She ventures.
You take a deep breath, composing yourself, and trying to order your thoughts as best you can.
"It... I woke up, standing in a kind of... void. There was a thick fog all around me, the floor was some kind of clouded glass so I couldn't even tell how far out it went from me ..."
And so you stumble through an explanation of what happened last night, about meeting the man inside your head, to his appearance, to his turning into your hero form, to Quirks, Resonance, which leads into talking about what happened with Andrea yesterday, though you do omit her name, how he pointed out people who would recognise you, all while trying to put across as much detail as you can, down to quoting Toshinori where you can.
You get about three-quarters of the way through before she tells you to fuck off.
She does it while barely containing her laughter, but she still tells you to fuck off.
… Rude.
"God, you almost had me for a moment there, Greg. I mean, damn, that was almost believable ." She jokes at you. "You been hanging out with the drama kids or something?"
Once again, as you fail to react with anything that would betray your story as a joke, her smile falls. Again.
Going so well holy shit.
"... You're serious." She states, not even making it a question.
"I am."
She blinks, before heaving a deep sigh and looking down at the speckled pattern of your kitchen table.
"... I... goddammit Greg." She says, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to beat away the impending headache. "Do I even have to explain that I don't believe you? Are you so dense that you can't see why that story is bull, or do I need to spell it out for you?"
You can't help but frown a little, somewhat offended at her insinuation that you would lie about this kind of thing.
"Why?"
"Because it's freaking ridiculous is why! You have some old dude living in your head who used to be a huge hero and you just happened to inherit his power, which is different from all other powers because reasons and also people with similar powers recognise you, the first of which was a cute girl? It's like some crappy wish-fulfilment story!" She snaps at you, beating the counter with her fist to emphasise her words.
You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.
"Sorry, let me rephrase- why would I lie about this? What do I have to gain from making up a story like this?" You continue, anger building quite fast. You realise that losing your temper at her is very much not a good thing, and attempt to kerb it while you still can.
But you continue.
"Do you really think I could make a lie that elaborate in one day? And it would have to be in one day because I've only had my power for that long, and the entire story deals with it in some way. So either I created a lie that somehow perfectly predicted what power I would get, or, or, here's a possibility, I'm not lying!" You say, your anger restrained, only coming through as a slight clipping in your speech. Not quite snapping at her, but still tenser than you expected to get.
She doesn't respond immediately. Instead, she seems to... draw in on herself.
You immediately know what you did was bad and you should feel bad. You heave in a sigh of your own, and try to reel yourself in.
"... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, it's just... it's stupid, it's ridiculous, it's borderline retarded, and I wouldn't believe you if I was in your shoes right now but just..."
Just what? 'Believe me?' 'Take me on faith?' How the hell are you supposed to convince her by words alone?
... An idea occurs. It's a stupid one. Unless it works. Then it's not stupid. That's how this works, right?
"... Just let me finish explaining, and you'll see how I'm going to prove I'm telling the truth." You finish, the embers of determination given fuel once more.
She looks up at you, doubt still dominant in her eyes.
"... Ok." She mumbles.
You focus on not succumbing to guilt and just about succeed, instead recounting your plan to use your resonance to gather people together to form a team of superheroes.
"Greg-" She says between gritted teeth.
"Hold on! Let me explain." You cut her off before she can go off on you again. "I... do not have the charisma to do that by myself. I do not have anywhere near the charisma to get people to follow me, let alone people who are, at this point, mostly villains. Not just two-bit ones, either, we're talking Smooch, Ingenium, Kamikaze, maybe the girl from yesterday- we're talking people in gangs, one who may be addicted to something, a giant racist, and a walking block of C4."
She considers this for a moment.
"... So... not easy people to convince."
"No. And the kind of people that having a world-famous hero in my head and having them recognise him would definitely help convince, right?"
"... Ok. Let's say if-" She raises a finger. "-if you manage to create some kind of superhero team, I... may give you the benefit of the doubt, because you managing that on your own is just unrealistic."
"..." Yes, that's an insult. "Hey!"
"You just admitted it yourself!" She yells back.
"No I-" Shit, you did. Uh. "... Well, when I do it it's self-deprecation, when you do it it's just insulting!"
This back and forth continues for a while, devolving into name-calling and a surprising number of your mother jokes, considering you're siblings, but the tension from before is gone, leaving most of the sting behind.
Eventually, you get up and cook yourself some more breakfast, justifying it with your sister's calorie theory, and consider what you're going to do today. Your mind drags itself back to yesterday, especially considering your time transformed.
Several things pop out at you almost immediately.
Numero uno- clothes. Your hoodie is now hilariously overstretched, and won't fit you normally now. It was also worn by a cute girl who hugged you afterwards heeeeeee neverwashingitagain-
FOCUS.
So, replacement favourite hoodie. You look down at your current attire, somehow not grease stained despite the spitting of the bacon and eggs and realise that transforming while wearing this is either going to injure you, or injure your dignity. You think your jeans should survive, your legs didn't seem to change horrifically, and they stretch anyway, but your shirt would tear itself to shreds trying to contain your upper mass.
So, either larger button ups, or t-shirts with a bit of stretch to them. Or both. Both is good.
Also- restraint. Despite how cathartic it was, dumpsters are not proper thug receptacles. You need a way of restraining people afterwards that doesn't require a pre-existing container or a well-placed fist to the face. Zip ties and duct tape?
Zip ties and duct tape.
Current Date/Time: Sunday, April 10th, 8:30 am
Well, you have the beginning of a shopping list in mind, now it's just a matter of deciding where to go. You have about 40 dollars in your wallet after Fugly Bobs yesterday, and more in your bank account if you really need to splurge and there's an ATM nearby. So, options!
[] Lords Street- It's essentially a flea market. Cheap stuff, in both senses of the word, but you might find a couple gems if you're lucky. Key word- 'lucky.'
[] Boardwalk- If you feel the need to sacrifice your wallet to the great capitalist machine, the Boardwalk is doubtlessly the best place to start. High quality, higher price tags. There's even a few speciality shops for, ah, people of extreme sizes, such as your transformed self. Everyone should get a chance to feel pretty, after all.
[] Weymouth Shopping Mall- The middle path, so to speak. The shops in there are for people who can't afford the Boardwalk, but still have enough dignity to avoid the flea market. Don't expect anything outstanding.
Ah, yeah, you're gonna be buying clothes for your other self, mind.
[] Change- go and put on a different shirt, one that won't tear open, then transform on your way there. It'll make it a little easier to guess what clothes fit you, at least.
[] Stay The Same- you'd rather keep that under wraps for now. Go out as Schlub Veder- Greg Veder. I said Greg.
Your sister probably wouldn't mind some input. Girls are good with fashion, right?
[] Drag your sister along to talk about clothes.
[] Leave your sister here and hope for the best.
And, finally, if there's anything you want to do while you're out and about-
[] Write-in
[] Eh, Fuck It- do something else. (Write-in)
