"Just - ungrateful is what she is," Makai complained in between bites of greasy lo mein noodles. Checking in on Veronica always seemed to do nothing more than piss him off. He didn't even know why he continued to do it, when she made it very clear she did not want him to. He picked up an egg roll and glared at it as if it were the source of his vexation, because he knew exactly why he did it.
"Ungrateful?" His company repeated back to him, not bothering to scowl at their own dinner, since they did not share his obvious disappointment. Stellar Matthews: all the time business partner, sometimes bitchfest partner was staring at him in what he refused to acknowledge as disbelief. "Ungrateful that money doesn't fix what happened to her parents?" she asked, unnecessarily, for clarification. Stellar leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. The expression he was ignoring never left her features.
"Her parents were Bad People," he replied, over eggroll, punctuating the words carefully. This was the same argument they had every month. He could predict the hour-to-hour events of the fifteenth without ever having to live through another one. His determination seemed almost masochistic. Stellar didn't reply, she didn't have to. 'Not to her' went without her saying for the hundredth time. So, she shrugged, taking a swig of beer instead.
Makai smothered more complaints with dumplings. It was difficult to tell if this was stress eating or just eating. The man was build like a brick house and consumed more calories on a daily basis than a football team. Before he could continue to gripe, they were alerted to the sounds of distress nearby. He turned in chair to see what was happening, just in time to see someone in all black fly past the window. "Robbery in progress," Stellar chimed, mocking the predictable buzzing of police radios. He turned back to face the table, and his lo mein.
"You're not going?" she asked.
"…it's a purse."
"Oh, I'm sorry, your majesty."
Giving her an indignant 'what the fuck' look, he pushed himself away from the table.
"Want me to tag along?" She looked smug.
"Yeah, because I want to fucking read 'Solarflare and Moonbeam Team Up to Stop Purse Thief' in the fucking paper tomorrow," he hissed at her.
She laughed as he swept away to change.
Solarflare couldn't remember when a purse snatching had started to feel beneath him. A city full of metahumans and wannabe heroes, certainly there was some rookie around that would be more than happy for the five seconds of gratitude that came with returning a knock-off of some gaudy designer purse. Not to sound cliché, but he had bigger fish to fry. He was an established hero, the kind with nemeses that could actually rain wanton destruction upon the city at any fucking moment.
Everyone recognized his signature red and gold costume, with the sun emblem emblazoned across his chest. News anchors fawned over his windswept hair and wondered as to who was hiding under the mask. Kids dressed up as him for fucking Halloween.
He'd given the thief a head start for fun, not that it would get them very far, and it wasn't as if they could outrun him. Solarflare all but dropped out of the sky to land a few feet in front of the criminal; far enough away to give them time to stop before they ran into him, and to briefly contemplate their terrible decision.
He should have said something clever. He should not have sounded bored when he said it. It being, "hand it over," while motioning for the purse.
"Ungrateful?" His company repeated back to him, not bothering to scowl at their own dinner, since they did not share his obvious disappointment. Stellar Matthews: all the time business partner, sometimes bitchfest partner was staring at him in what he refused to acknowledge as disbelief. "Ungrateful that money doesn't fix what happened to her parents?" she asked, unnecessarily, for clarification. Stellar leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. The expression he was ignoring never left her features.
"Her parents were Bad People," he replied, over eggroll, punctuating the words carefully. This was the same argument they had every month. He could predict the hour-to-hour events of the fifteenth without ever having to live through another one. His determination seemed almost masochistic. Stellar didn't reply, she didn't have to. 'Not to her' went without her saying for the hundredth time. So, she shrugged, taking a swig of beer instead.
Makai smothered more complaints with dumplings. It was difficult to tell if this was stress eating or just eating. The man was build like a brick house and consumed more calories on a daily basis than a football team. Before he could continue to gripe, they were alerted to the sounds of distress nearby. He turned in chair to see what was happening, just in time to see someone in all black fly past the window. "Robbery in progress," Stellar chimed, mocking the predictable buzzing of police radios. He turned back to face the table, and his lo mein.
"You're not going?" she asked.
"…it's a purse."
"Oh, I'm sorry, your majesty."
Giving her an indignant 'what the fuck' look, he pushed himself away from the table.
"Want me to tag along?" She looked smug.
"Yeah, because I want to fucking read 'Solarflare and Moonbeam Team Up to Stop Purse Thief' in the fucking paper tomorrow," he hissed at her.
She laughed as he swept away to change.
Solarflare couldn't remember when a purse snatching had started to feel beneath him. A city full of metahumans and wannabe heroes, certainly there was some rookie around that would be more than happy for the five seconds of gratitude that came with returning a knock-off of some gaudy designer purse. Not to sound cliché, but he had bigger fish to fry. He was an established hero, the kind with nemeses that could actually rain wanton destruction upon the city at any fucking moment.
Everyone recognized his signature red and gold costume, with the sun emblem emblazoned across his chest. News anchors fawned over his windswept hair and wondered as to who was hiding under the mask. Kids dressed up as him for fucking Halloween.
He'd given the thief a head start for fun, not that it would get them very far, and it wasn't as if they could outrun him. Solarflare all but dropped out of the sky to land a few feet in front of the criminal; far enough away to give them time to stop before they ran into him, and to briefly contemplate their terrible decision.
He should have said something clever. He should not have sounded bored when he said it. It being, "hand it over," while motioning for the purse.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by Tindome - 09-14-2016, 11:32 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by Tindome - 09-14-2016, 11:33 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by megs - 09-15-2016, 02:42 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by Tindome - 09-15-2016, 06:53 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by megs - 09-18-2016, 04:27 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by Tindome - 09-20-2016, 06:21 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by megs - 09-29-2016, 04:32 PM
RE: Three-Card Monte [Closed] - by Tindome - 01-08-2017, 03:07 PM