Hunting Tomorrow (Supers? Weird Fiction)

1.5 No one ever agrees on where to eat.
Gee! I wonder what's going to win?

Strength - High | Intellegence - Average
Agility - Exceptional+ |Intuition - Above Average
Reflex - Exceptional+ | Willpower - Above Average
Toughness - High
Current Fundage: $200 spare cash, after rent and food
Rails: 1 week charge.
Boost: 2 Charges in use, 1 additional available.
Chaos Factor 4

Heh. Yeah. This feels like a trap to me too. But then again, thanks to that whole Prey Sense thing, everything feels like a trap.

I voice my agreement and we leave the club, with P.D. keeping a wary eye on us. That or he was staring at her ass. I didn't ask, I don't know.

We head over to the parking garage and up a few floors. I can't take my eyes off the way her hair darts around, except when the Sunlight glints off her fangs. It's probably about Six Forty Five(6:45 PM) but the sun is steadfastly refusing to set. Probably won't for another hour. If it weren't for the nagging sensation that she was going to eat me, I'd say she could have been cute. Wide hips that swayed perhaps a little too much as she walked, nice solid shoulders. Shoulder length garter-snakes for hair... I'm not entirely sure how that works, nor do I want to know. The baggy shirt and pants confuses her movements just enough that if I was a fighter, I'd probably be put on edge. But I don't know the first thing about fighting.

Kade carries himself well too. I mean, he's a tube of man in a well tailored suit. That's the thing about a good suit as opposed to a cheap one. If it fits right, it doesn't screw with your range of motion at all. You can do some impressive dance moves in a good suit. Now Kade, I'd believe it if you told me Kade was a blackbelt in something. He just knows. We all saw how he calmly extracted the 'hostage' earlier. Maybe helping farmers isn't all he does.

The Car was... nice. I mean, it wasn't like a classic convertible but it cost some coin. And it had a nice big sunroof in the back. An actual sunroof, with a panel that opens up to let you feel the air, not a moonroof. Some of you probably don't know the difference. A moonroof has a built in glass panel so the car is still sealed.

Needless to say, I got into the middle seat in the back and stuck my antlers out the top. Stuff like this? This is why I don't do cars. Also why I don't have an office job anymore. I always need special accommodations that no one thinks about.

The Gorgon wheezes a bit as she slides in. "I'm going to have to make a quick pit stop, you cracked a few ribs when you shot me. But anyone have any requests as to where we go? Normally I'd hit the Brazilian Steakhouse by the docks, but..."

I wasn't sure which it was that made me blanch, the idea of all that meat or the fact that I'd broken something and she was toughing it out. Kade expressed my outrage for me. "Wait, wait wait. You've been exploded, you broke a rib, and now you're driving. I thought you told the bouncer you were fine."

"I am fine. You've good vision, Weasel Boy. I'm used to driving from the passenger seat. Beside, never let the bastards see you bleed. So, if we're not hitting the Steak House, they've got a great salad bar, where are we going? Carmilla's? Geno's? Sheng Xiao Asian Bistro? No, on second thought, that last one's kinda a threat. Besides, that's what the pitstops for." Well, if the car does crash, I'm probably walking away. I'm in the safest spot, and I can survive getting hit by a car going thirty five.

There's only one thing I can think to add. "P.D.'s more of a doorman than a bouncer." After a second, I think of another. "I like Geno's. Not really a sit down place, though."

As she started the car, over Kade's protests, she absentmindedly asked something she should have asked before we even left. "So, what are your names, anyway? I'm C.C. Sanford. Oh, and we're on a little bit of a time limit. My shift starts in two hours."

It'd be unfair to say that she's a bad driver. I did kinda blow her eardrums, but the ringing and vertigo had subsided by now. I think she was just trying to freak out Kade. Introductions were made, and the two of them made some small talk. Even with the Sunroof open, she liked to keep the car warm. No big deal, but most people would have had the AC on. We were halfway to the airport by the time she turned off into Goldstar parking lot.

Goldstar is your standard Fast Food chain with one big difference. The owner is a Super. Each location is one part eatery, one part shrine to the heroes around the country. Goldstar himself isn't much to write home about. B-list movie star, Race Car driver with a couple Knacks that give him an edge. The place is popular enough that he doesn't have do much of anything. Yay Franchises, right?

It's kitchey as hell, and sets my teeth on edge. I get the Super Worship, I do. But the place started as a monument to one man's ego. An incredibly Lucky man. He's got more Knacks than anyone should and not a single visible Twist. If you told me that he was decanted by the six pack in a mad science laboratory, I'd believe you.

Luckily, this is not where we're eating. C.C. pulls the car to the drive thru and hums to herself. She speaks the moment the Box crackles to life. "Hi, can I get a Suicide King and a G.E.M.?"

Kade blinks a few times. "You do know where we are, right? Pretty sure that's not on the menu."

The person on the other end of the box sighs resignedly. "That'll be Nine Sixty, and three minutes. So good of you to drop by, C.C. You get hit by a car again?"

C.C. laughs, which is evidently a bad idea, as she clutches her ribs immediately. "I was shot with a Pool Cue. Don't worry, I deserved it."

The person on the other end of the line grunts. "You always do, honey."

And so, we pulled around to the window, and just got handed a tray straight up. No bag, no wrapper. Then again, they probably didn't have a wrapper big enough for it. Given her age and uniform, I'm guessing the woman handing C.C. her Pre-Supper Snack was the manage. She gave a sort of resigned wave to the two of us.

Kade just sat there, mouthing 'What The Hell?' and I couldn't blame him. The burger was constructed out of four quarter pound patties with a slice of cheese between each of them, and topped with Bacon and special sauce. The G.E.M. looked to be just a large coffee, but if she had to order it in code, that couldn't be all it was.

I don't think C.C. even bothered to chew. The Manager's eyes twinkled as she took the tray back. "First time on Patrol with Lizard-Hips, huh?"

C.C. chugged the coffee. "Actually, I don't go on duty for another two hours. They're Civies."

The manager shrugged. "Fair enough. Have fun with Cher here."

We pulled out, and off we went. Her driving improved, whether that was the painkilling effects of the coffee(yes, coffee contains a pain killer, look it up) or just that she had some time to rest I don't know. But I found my voice first. "I take it you're a Super?"

C.C. gave a little bit of a grunt. "It was that or go into a life of crime. My twists don't exactly lend themselves to Secretarial Work, if you know what I mean."

This gave Kade the out he was looking for. Something to talk about beside C.C.'s monstrous appetite. "Hey, Oberon, weren't you looking for that Bat?"

Sure, throw me to the wolves. "Yeah, I met a Bat at work, she was wearing a mask, so I figured she was a Super. I don't really follow the scene or anything, but I wanted to thank her for the tip. Fifty dollar tip on a twenty dollar job, you know? "

C.C. grunted again, and for a moment I thought we were going to see the return of the Suicide King. "I'm not just going to hand out the identity of one my co-workers. That said, with Primals as with anyone it all comes down to Food. If she was a fruit bat, check the smoothie shops. If she was an insectivore, there's only really one place to go for that. Supers tend to eat on the wing, no pun intended, so check for drive thrus, delivery, or fast food. Alternatively, check the alternative groceries. Some of them will put something together for people with special needs."

I thought back. The box was chirping and moving. "So, if I was looking for someone who eats bugs, where would I go?"

Kade piped up. "Oh, that one I know. Jiminy's. My Aunt Poppy loves their caramelized bees. She likes to pop by after hitting the the Barbecue joint."

I nodded in thought and banged my antlers against the roof. Woops. "I take it they don't deliver? Do they offer live food?"

C.C. chuckles. "The lanterns, yeah. Dinner and a show, if you're of that sort. The intent is that you can wear the containers on your wrist as you walk about and get the comforting call of the cricket it whenever you want. And if you get hungry, well... Not my sort of thing, but it pays to know what you can get where."

There was a little more conversations before we pulled to a stop and we got out. C.C. seemed to be doing a lot better, so I just had to ask. "You don't have to answer, but do you have Nekketsu Syndrome?"

C.C. didn't look offended, at least. Though perhaps that smile was a little too wide, and that drip on the end on her fangs wasn't drool... "I wish. I'm a magic user. It's just. I have to eat my material components. It doesn't work if I prepare them, and it works best if it's standardized. So, I eat a lot of fast food."

So, we're by the mall. There's the Hilton-Double-Tree. Oh crap. I look turn to look and yep. We're eating at The Obvious Trap.

I can do this. I can do this. I hate this place, but I can do this.

Okay, it's not fair to say I hate The Obvious Trap, I've never been. They actually called me once and offered me a free dinner. I was behind on the rent, I was desperate for food, and I still didn't go.

But I need the friends, right?

I play it cool, and we head in. It's standard "American Fare", for the most part. Basically stuff you can get anywhere. That's not why I hate the place. Generic food is generic. But imagine if Blofeld couldn't pay his bills and SPECTER repossessed his island lair. Then a Mad Restaurateur bought it. Pressure plates, laser trip wires, razor sharp pendulums that look like they're going to come crashing down at any minute. Remember what I said about Prey Sense? I do not feel safe even looking at this place. The staff are hired on their ability to move silently, and it's just...

Anyway, we're seated relatively quickly, and we get a good view of the Laser Dissection Table. An industrial cutting laser that, for a fee, will be used to custom cut your meat. The booth is rock steady, but the floor wobbles under my feet.

Time to order. What should we talk about?

Food: (Choose 1)
[]Himalayan Retreat: An assortment of cut vegetables served with a pair of salt blocks to press them with.
[]Land, Sea, and Air: Quarter Pound Beef patty, breaded fish, and a chicken patty on a ciabatta bun.
[]Volcano Lair: Spicy seafood soup.
[]Pax Romana: A crushed mint, coriander, parsley, and leek salad with cheese and thyme to top it, served along side a lentil dish.
[]Robur: Chicken in a dark and mysterious sauce.
Discussion Topics:
[]Hobbies
[]Past
[]Work
[]Food
[]Write In:...

Hero Agency: A legally empowered group of Twisted who try to do good. Some of them do rescues, some of them actually fight crime, some of them are really just a group of showboats.

Nekketsu Syndrome: Genetic disorder that may be related to Twists. Suffers show increased metabolism, increase regenerative abilities, and poor impulse control. Roughly translates to "Hotblooded", it's named after the nickname of the High School where the first cluster of sufferers was located. Not to be confused with Roppongi Syndrome.

Roppongi Syndrome: Retroviral infection that can cause unusual twists. Unlike most 'natural' twists, if untreated can cause cell degeneration. Potential Mitochondrial involvement?

Super: Superhero. Generally registered with a Hero Agency, these people use their Twists for the public good. Funny costumes are generally involved. Masks too.
 
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I think a dictionary term slipped past me.
But I found my voice first. "I take it you're a Super?"

C.C. gave a little bit of a grunt. "It was that or go into a life of crime. My twists don't exactly lend themselves to Secretarial Work, if you know what I mean."
What's a Super and how are they different from the rest of the Twisted? How come we suspect the Bat is one?

There was a little more conversations before we pulled to a stop and we got out. C.C. seemed to be doing a lot better, so I just had to ask. "You don't have to answer, but do you have Nekketsu Syndrome?"
The obvious question is obvious.

[X]Pax Romana: A crushed mint, coriander, parsley, and leek salad with cheese and thyme to top it, served along side a lentil dish.
[X]Hobbies

Well, I am flat out interested in what they do for a living (especially Kade), but that'd be a bit rude.
 
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A hero as in 'vigilante'? Or on a govenment payroll? Gorgon mentioned a co-worker, so who employs them? Is a mercenary with superpowers a Super?

Why is having a mask an indication of being one? Gorgon does not appear to wear any. Granted, she isn't on duty.

There are some things I can infer, but it'd be easier to just look up the dictionary term, seeing how it's supposed to cover concepts that should be common knowledge for our character.
 
Yeah, sorry about that. Life happened and I ended up not getting around to editing the Glossary. I'm working on that, and of course Oberon can answer some of this stuff in his own words, after all, part of the conceit of this is that you guys are the voices in his head(sorta). Thanks for being patient.
 
[X]Pax Romana: A crushed mint, coriander, parsley, and leek salad with cheese and thyme to top it, served along side a lentil dish.

[X]Hobbies
 
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