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Post by Celestial on Sept 12, 2016 18:10:14 GMT -5
Tabitha smiled as Sinclair took a biscuit from the box, closing the metal tin once he had made his choice and placing it back under her arm again. "Bribery was hardly my intention, Mr. Sinclair. It was simply a polite gesture. Besides, when one has treats, it is not better to share?" she said with a melodious laugh. However, she still listened carefully to what her boss was saying. A corner of her mouth remained curved up in a smile but her eyes showed that she was absorbing the information with a careful, meticulous air. At last, when Sinclair had finished speaking, she nodded courteosly, her hat tipping slightly. "You do not have to worry about a thing as far as I am concerned, Mr. Sinclair: as a veteran of the performing arts in not one but two fields, I am quite aware of how to keep my lips sealed, especially when faced with all too curious journalists. And speaking of performances, might I be able to tempt you and your most charming wife to attend one or two at the old theatre at some point? It would be an honour to have you in the audience, or even your girls if you deem them mature enough for such shows." Tabitha paused, raising one gloved finger to the corner of her mouth as she thought. "Of course, it might be a little busy for you, since the filming of Hero City coincides with my opera. You will most likely be rushed off your feet, Mr. Sinclair, but do try to take a few moments rest every now and then. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you," she laughed airly. "And I do mean that, that is hardly a veiled threat as one of our esteemed villains would make it." She glanced around and moved a little closer to Sinclair, giving them a little privacy. "If I may be so rude to ask, why the Queen? She is a star, of course, and while I find her music to be not in my taste, I cannot deny that she has great musical talent. It would be an exquisite fit with your programme and it's leanings towards the dramatic...but you have certainly heard the rumours surrounding her?" Tabitha tilted her head. "I am sure you have; nothing gets past you, Mr. Sinclair. So if you would be so kind as to reveal your reasons to me, I promise Ms Bizelli will not hear a peep of this." Tabitha denies bribery before hinting that she would be very happy to see Sinclair( Shinko) and his family at her opera sometime, perhaps even for free, who knows? ;D She then asks about the Queen and the reasons for inviting her over. Wow, Tabitha, you do talk a lot, and ask a lot of questions you really have no business knowing.
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Post by icon on Sept 12, 2016 18:15:48 GMT -5
From the overhead… * * * “In short, our ratings are the highest they’ve ever been, thanks to all of you. I couldn’t have dreamed when I started recording MASK five years ago that my one podcast would spiral into an entire media conglomerate, but all of you have made it possible.” Wax looked up from his laptop at the table of faces. “This is going to be a great season of Hero City, folks, which means that it’s going to be great for all of us as well. Now let’s get out there and make some headlines!” At this, the folks sitting around the table all nodded, and the general onset of post-meeting chatter began: “Hey, congratulations on the Super Script episode, it sounded great!” “Thank you, Jusen, so glad you enjoyed it! Say, that reminds me...” “Antho, Mossy, are we still on for that late lunch? Gyro City, my treat!” “As long as we don’t have to take that screaming deathtrap you call a scooter—” “The mic converter? Nah, I returned that to Hana last week...” “I’ll have to ask her—” “It is too a deathtrap! See? Moss agrees with me—” “Io, a word before you head out?” Ionesca looked back at Wax rolling out from the table. “Sure thing,” she said, nodding at Anthony and the others as they exited, leaving only her and Wax in the meeting room. “What’s up?” “I wanted to bounce an assignment off you—it’s a bit different from your usual beat, but hear me out. Hana and I have been looking into other sources of new audiences.” He picked up a sheaf of papers from the table and tossed it at Io. Io caught the sheaf, and looked at the letterhead atop the first page. “The Heraclia Gazette?” She examined the next, and the next, and the next. “ Supers™ Magazine? The Cape Street Beat? These are all independent press outlets.” “These are some of the biggest independent presses in Heraclia, Io. They’re household names. They’ve got newspaper stands on nearly every street corner, and they could certainly draw us up some more audiences.” Wax passed her a small handful of business cards, wrapped with a rubber band. “We’re going to discuss it further at next week’s meeting. I know that this is a step away from Super Script, but you’ve been with the show longer than almost everyone else. For now, just—maybe look over some of these journalists and shoot them a line if you’ve got time—stop by my desk if you’ve got any thoughts about it either way.” “Sure thing, Wax,” Io replied. She watched him wheel his way out the door, then down the hall, then tucked the sheaf of newspapers under her arm and listlessly sifted through the business cards. Flick, flick… hmm. That there was a name she’d heard before. Pocketing the business cards, she pulled out her smartphone and started speaking to the built-in computer: “Feste, can you pull up all recent articles written by one 'Beatrice Bizelli' for me? I’ve got some research to do.” * * * “…and for the last time, Anthony, it’s not a 'camera scooter', it’s a VR-capture cycle, and her name is Iggy,” Erica said as she and her associates walked through the entrance of Gyro City. “The whole point of Rewind is for us to record footage so that we can play it back later for others with commentary, isn’t that right, Mossy?” The one known as Moss removed their headphones from their ears for a second, then gave a curt nod before plugging back in. Anthony sighed, fidgeting with his bulky vest jacket. “I understand what you’re doing, but you have to admit that it’s dangerous. Even if you are the highest-rated VRcast on Streem, even if ‘action brings in ratings’ like you always say, you two need to make sure that you stay safe while you’re out there—okay?” “Sure, sure, whatever, daaad”, Erica said, sauntering up to the counter. “I mean, I’ve been using our downtime during the off season to take Iggy into the garage for maintenance, and I know that you’ve put in some time on your safety checks at well,” she said, nodding at Moss. She turned to the cashier. “Hi, we’ll take a double number seven combo with an extra side of falafel and three fountain sodas—can we get that to go?” Turning back to her compatriots, she nudged Anthony in the ribs. “Hey, check out who else is here—Mister BuddyGuy and the Lightningbugman.” “ Fireflyman.” “Whatever, dude.” Enter Wax Eon, host of MASK and head of the MASK Network, who is just really really proud of everyone, this whole thing just means a lot to him okay. He talks to Ionesca and gives her a project trying to reach out to different independent press outlets (cough cough June Scarlet ) Erica and Moss are co-hosts of the webseries Rewind, wherein they go into the thick of action sequences and record them via virtual reality to popular acclaim. They’re snagging a late lunch with Anthony (who runs another yet-to-be-determined MASK podcast) at Coaster ’s Gyro City. Also, they’re discussing some mechanical/technical device: perhaps something a certain Doctor err, handyman ( Gelquie ) could overhear? They also notice Jayeee and Moni .
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Post by Shinko on Sept 12, 2016 19:06:02 GMT -5
"I'll think about it- I'm afraid I'm not much one for operas," Sinclair temporized- he knew that Tabitha had a habit of inviting people to see her performances, and wasn't entirely surprised that she should do so now. "I prefer to get my culture from quieter venues. And I certainly wouldn't want my presence to distract from your show." He took a long pull from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing somewhat when Tabitha started asking about the Queen. "It was not my idea, I assure you. But as to the logistics, that is between her manager and our event coordinators. I'm not at legal liberty to discuss the terms, even if it were your business. And need I remind you, it is not." Sinclair paused, crushing the tip of his cigarette against a gravel ash tray atop a nearby trash can to snuff it. Disposing of the thing, he turned back to his employee. "I am always on my guard. You need not worry about that. But I also prefer not to jump to conclusions about people. You don't last long in the hero business without figuring out that sometimes a persona or reputation is as much a farse as the makeup and mask. You can't judge someone based on what others say about them. Look at Ilia-" this was Eyescream Man's real first name, which he had shared with his fellow heroes, though only Sinclair and a few higher up execs knew his surname- "A friendly face for the cameras, to be sure, and the crowds adored him. But as soon as the lights were down he was off playing wingman for DUDE BRO. And now look- just as soon as he won, he left. No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude." Sinclair is evasive with Tabitha ( Celestial) but points out that he is keeping his guard up, just that he's also trying not to jump to conclusions. He also shares some old-man life advice
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Post by Twillie on Sept 12, 2016 19:56:26 GMT -5
Although midday, the hotel room held the barest amount of light. Thick curtains covered every window, and all artificial lighting-- from the bedside lamp to the hall switch resting by the triple locked door-- was shut off. Only when a small vibration on the floor cut the silence did a tiny pool of blue light illuminate the room. Natasha paused her work, setting a vial down before picking up her phone. Already suspicious of who might be texting her at such a time, her mouth twisted into a small grimace as she checked the screen. Natasha typed quickly. She didn’t give the phone another glance after hitting send, instead tossing it aside while picking up her vial again. At least she wasn’t lying this time; for once, she was grateful for her lack of free time. That busy schedule reared its head just a second later, though, when a knock from the door forced Natasha to drop her vial yet again. With a quiet sigh, she straightened her back and lifted her chin, adopting a sweet smile as she charismatically called, “I’ll be ready in just a minute!” ----- “Hey, how about the newest season of Hero City? Anyone excited for that?” A crowded studio audience erupted in cheers at this inquiry, and the talk show host followed it up with, “Now, I'm sure we’re all looking forward to our favorites, like Nimbus or, of course, DUDE BRO--” A series of shrill cries followed this. “And some of us might even be rooting for the underdogs. And I know there's at least a couple of you silently cheering for a villain or two--” A wave of laughter rose and fell. “But we all know the heroes aren't the only stars of the season. Ladies and gentlemen, if you would help me welcome our surprise guest to her first ever visit to Heraclia--” The roar of the crowd drowned out the host’s words, obscuring the guest’s name as she walked on stage. Bejeweled, thigh high platform boots quickly clacked against the ground, carrying a young woman of tall stature and a showman’s confidence. Thick tresses fell to her waist, around which was a loose material skirt with a split up the side. A small, sleeveless top completed the outfit. All of these features glimmered the same bright platinum, heavily contrasting against dark copper skin and bright blue eyes. The Queen took her seat next to the host, the audience still in a rise about her appearance. “Well,” the host laughed as the applause slowly died down, “I think it's fair to say that you've taken us all by surprise.” “Oh!” the Queen burst out into delighted laughter, “I could say the same for myself!” “Really? How so?” “Well, just the other day, my manager sprung up the idea to me. 'Why don't you perform in Heraclia?' I mean, I've always known about the Hero City show, but it never crossed my mind to actually perform for it--” “Ah, you're too humble.” “Haha! But the next thing I know, I’m on the next plane to here.” “And how’s the city treating you?” “... This has been a trip put off for far too long.” The Queen darted a glance to the seats. “I mean, I didn’t know what I was missing with all these wonderful fans!” “Now, since this is your first time in Heraclia, I’m sure you’ve, uh, got something even more special planned for your concert?" The host leaned across his table towards her. "Care to… give us some details?” “Well…” She bit her lower lip and glanced away from the host, tucking in her chin to give a shy appearance, “Let’s just say, you may hear something new from me--” The crowd rose in an uproar before she could even get out her last words. They cheered, and the Queen threw back her head in excited laughter while the host grinned. “So,” He cut his voice through the crowd, signalling them to calm down once more. “ So, you’ve certainly got us interested. Care to give a little insight into this ‘something new’?” The Queen flashed him a sly glance and spread her smile more widely across her face. “I can’t give away too much, you know.” The crowd began to aww. “ But…” A sudden hush. Any noise from the audience cut short. Every head was raised, every eye darted to stage. The Queen paused, pursing her lips and smiling sweetly as she relished the growing tension in the studio. Then, just as the host opened his mouth to prompt her, she spoke. “I will tell you that-- even more than any previous album or single-- this premiere will be much more personal. Picture it like you’ll be hearing directly from my life, but in a… much bigger way.” As she talked, the Queen’s typical beaming face slowly melted, settling into much softer, almost somber features. Her voice dropped in volume, and she lowered her gaze with hands folded near her waist as though for comfort. Everyone in the room noticed this change, and their silence lingered as they soaked in every word. After the tiniest hesitation, though, the Queen lifted her head and adopted a small smile once again. “Which is why I find it fitting sharing it with all of you first!” she announced, her voice as carrying and clear as before, “Heraclia is a visit that’s been much too long overdue. You all deserve something special from me, and I couldn’t pick a better place to just… open up!” She threw open her arms and turned to the crowd with these last few words, welcoming the applause that followed. She glowed with her widest grin, sweeping across her gaze to really notice the faces before her, to take in who she was speaking to. “I owe this to Heraclia, and you all deserve it.” Natasha Greiss is quietly working in her hotel room while being constantly interrupted by the outside world that she tries to shut out. ( Dju ) All of Heraclia is in an uproar as the Queen finally confirms her appearance at the Hero City premier later that day. She promises that this will be a show unlike any before.
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Post by Liou on Sept 12, 2016 20:23:07 GMT -5
The earpiece had been silent during the entire morning workout. It rested on top of a pile of clothes near a steam-filled shower stall while its owner enjoyed a well-deserved shower. Little by little, they relaxed, forgetting about the exercises, this special morning, and the device they had jumped to check every five minutes; they focused instead on the hot water running down their body, loosening their tense muscles. A shrill peal of electric guitar tore through the room. The six-foot-tall athlete charged out of the shower, slipped, caught themself against a wall and picked up the earpiece with a soaking wet arm, clutching their towel in their other hand. "Do I have your undivided attention? It is I, Crown Princess Nyx Nightshadow of Etheria.""What. Nyx. What." Zenith's mouth fell open as more hysterical voices were heard. They dripped wordlessly during the rest of the call. "You know what you must do.""Nyx, I'm not even..." She had hung up, because of course she had. Zenith jumped back into action, grumbling under their breath. While hopping about the locker room in a whirlwind of slippery limbs and half-donned clothes, they managed to tap in someone else's number. "Tim." He did not pick up immediately, because of course he wouldn't. At least they were one-third dressed. "Tim - shoot, my goggles -" "Timmyyy." Had it been one minute yet? "Oy, Glitchpants!" Spitting long black hair out of their mouth, they paused to yell into the device. "Tim you lazy lump, GET YOUR REAR OUT OF BED!" As soon as the said lazy lump had made a sound, Zenith summed up the situation: "Emergency, no time to- well, you have, but I don't. Hostage situation, train track, near some old petting zoo, ten minutes. You-know-who is there. Why - couldn't it be - when I was dressed." At long last - three minutes, perhaps? - Zenith sprinted out of the back entrance of the gym, with damp hair in a makeshift ponytail and a long coat thrown over their skintight suit. They headed towards the nearest train station while flicking furiously through maps of the lines on their phone. How could one get somewhere before a train? The train was supposed to get you there faster than anything else! But if it would only get there in ten minutes, it had to be a fairly deserted track. And if Zenith hopped onto the right fast line, they could arrive just opposite the place in a matter of minutes. After boarding the train, they stayed right in front of the doors, their eyes covered by dark-tinted ski goggles. A few people did stare. There would be no time for chatter. Zenith stood as tall and stoic as they could - which was quite tall and quite stoic -, trying to appear as unapproachable as possible. Nothing to see here. I am taking the train. It happens. I am very unapproachable. Do not approach me.They bolted out of the train as soon as the doors opened, ducked behind the nearest grove of trees, and took off. Cold wind slapped them in the face and rushed all around them. The familiar pale yellow glow appeared and formed a trail behind them. A little smile tugged at the corners of their mouth as they soared higher. Zenith had not flown in days, to save energy for the season premiere. They returned their attention to the map on their phone. If Nyx had been right, all they had to do now was fly around this hill as a shortcut. And hope that she hadn't been entirely serious about the ten minutes. The trap on the train tracks was far too obvious to miss. Zenith alighted on a rock outcropping above the scene, sans coat, ponytail blowing in the wind. "Nyx Nightshadow," they called as if they had not just rushed over. "I thought you claimed to be from another planet, not another century. No one has done the train track thing in ages, for your information. Though at least it matches your fashion sense." They cleared their throat and focused on the civilians. "Now stop this nonsense and let them go. I cannot play damage control every time you get a brilliant idea." Zenith's morning shower was gloriously spoiled by Thorn 's call! They barely managed to call Dju for backup before rushing to confront Nyxie.
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Post by Reiqua on Sept 13, 2016 0:11:06 GMT -5
It was with great relief that Miss Marković watched her class file out to lunch. As soon as she was alone in the classroom, she slumped exhausted into her chair and exhaled rather inelegantly. What a morning it had been! Fletcher and Riley had had a rather violent disagreement at recess, which had resulted in them both paying a visit to the principal's office. Of course, the class had been so unsettled by this that their maths lesson was a complete disaster. And then the library had been double booked by Mr Cochrane's class, meaning that she'd had to change the day's schedule entirely. Was there anything else that could go wrong? With a sigh, she picked up the tablet from her desk and checked the playground duty roster. She was not on. Relieved, she slipped her stockinged feet out of her shoes, tucked her legs up under her and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She didn't think she could face the staff room right at this moment, but perhaps it would do her good to leave the classroom for a bit and get lunch elsewhere. Yes. That was what she would do. The first and most pressing call of business was to rearrange her hair which had become rather dishevelled that morning, working it's way free of her neat bun. That done, she retrieved her handbag from the bottom drawer, slipped her feet back into her shoes, and made her way through the teachers' carpark and out the school gates. She checked her watch. She had forty-five minutes until the end of the lunch break. That was ample time to complete the short walk into the heart of Heraclia. A short while later, Miss Marković's heels were clacking up the pavement of a busy street in central Heraclia. On one side of the street, brightly coloured advertising screamed “SHAWARMA SHAH” at the passers by. Directly opposite it stood its competitor, with the words GYRO CITY emblazoned above the door. It was at this point that many hungry lunch-buyers would pause indecisively, trying to decide where they would take their custom. For Miss Marković, however, the decision was easy. She couldn't stand gyros. Not long afterwards, she emerged from the shawarma place, food in hand. She felt a vindictive wave of satisfaction on noticing that the line was considerably longer in Gyro City. Not that Gyro City had ever done anything to her except sell gyros. She set off up the street, checking her watch as she went. Twenty minutes. She would comfortably make it back to the school in time. Miss Marković takes a well earned lunch break after a very hectic morning. She purchases a shawarma for lunch (sorry Coaster but we can't all love Gyros) before setting off back to school. If, for some reason, anyone would like to talk to a school teacher on her lunch break, you're welcome to approach her (:
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Sept 13, 2016 0:19:49 GMT -5
Another year, another season, another number to add to her record for longest appearance on Hero City. But who was counting, anyway? Nevertheless, she had gotten up early that day. She wanted to make sure she was ready. Hero City might be just a show, but helping and saving people was serious business. She had once again stubbornly turned a deaf ear to anyone advising her to retire. Most of them were well-intentioned, but they didn’t understand. Being a hero was more than a duty to her, it was her life calling. You couldn’t get “too old” for that. She pulled up her graying hair into a high bun, and dressed up in her Dossier Dame outfit. Then, she put on her glasses and pressed the hidden button to activate them. A retina scan was instantly activated to confirm her identity, and as soon as it had, she saw lines of code flash before her eyes and a message indicating the device had booted up and connected to all databases successfully. She poured herself a cup of coffee into her favorite mug, which read “DeeDee” in big bold letters. It wasn’t a coincidence that her real name and her hero name shared the same initials (D.D.), but DeeDee was just a nickname her friends called her by. She never corrected anyone who assumed otherwise, though. She liked to keep some secrets. Once she finished her coffee, she put on a long coat and walked out onto the street. She headed right to the headquarters of HCN, hoping to find Bill Sinclair, whom she considered a friend, to maybe have a chat with him before things actually started. She had heard the news that Eyescream Man was retiring to open a frozen yogurt parlor, and she always enjoyed having a good rant about young heroes wasting their potential. She spotted him from afar as she was nearing her destination, and she was about to call out for him, but she noticed he already had company. Young Tabitha Kingsley had gotten there first, and they were already engaged in conversation. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she was already there, so she approached them anyway. “just as soon as he won, he left,” she overheard Sinclair saying. “Ah, good. They must already be talking about Eyescream Man,” she thought. “Good morning,” she greeted them both politely. “It’s a shame about Eyescream Man, isn’t it? In my time, I’ve seen countless heroes retire for the silliest reasons. He’s not the first and he certainly won’t be the last, but still.” She shook her head to show her disapproval. Dossier Dame, or DeeDee as her friends call her, gets ready for the start of yet another season of Hero City. She heads to HCN headquarters looking for Shinko . She finds him already talking to Celestial , and attempts to join in on their conversation.
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Post by Gelquie on Sept 13, 2016 1:54:20 GMT -5
Gordan Page wasn't doing much noteworthy. He simply stood near the counter as he waited for his order to come out, still anxious to go, still glancing around the restaurant and glancing at the TV. Said TV was full of mostly hype about the upcoming season and interviews with various people, heroes, and... performers. Most of them putting on an act of some sort, simply to please the audience. Such was the norm in Heraclia. Always smiling for the camera, always an audience... And always appreciated. For a moment, he just stared, transfixed. at the latest interview. Then he was pulled out of his reverie at the sound of another hero bursting in, cameras trailing behind him. It took him all of half a second to figure out that it was DUDE BRO™. And sure enough, many if not all eyes turned to watch him. Of course they would; somehow, he had managed to make it to the All Stars list despite him spending most of his time wooing women with his 'super-good looks' (though even Gordan had to admit that there was something to the good looks). So now even those who hadn't followed him before had heard about him. Whether it was with respect, grudging, or ignorant respect; it widely varied. Some way or another, he was popular. Gordan was content to ignore him at first; he seemed to just be doing some promotional thing. He just hoped the cameras wouldn't accidentally catch Gordon for too long; this wasn't the time quite yet. But at the very least, he figured most eyes would be trained on DUDE BRO™. And then suddenly, DUDE BRO™ was speaking to him. Something about something being gold and... something about speedos? "Huh?" he asked aloud. Then he realized DUDE BRO™ was talking about his own speedos. Then he also realized that DUDE BRO™ was staring at his uniform. Oh, he was right, he was being mistaken for a hero... DUDE BRO™ was going to be very disappointed when he didn't show up for the premier to announce himself as... what? "Handy Man?" ...That was just ridiculous even for hero names. Still, he didn't feel too compelled to correct him. Instead, he replied: "Gold, for speedos? ...Gold-colored, I assume you mean? Good call; then everyone will see you coming." ...He realized too late that he would probably take that as a compliment. ...Whatever, he didn't care enough to correct himself or go on. He continued to wait, listening to everything around him, not taking much interest in the goings-on of the restaurant-- --Wait, what was-- was that a discussion about VR capture?Gordan couldn't help but look up, intrigued as he listened in on the conversation. Unfortunately, they didn't go into too much detail about how it worked, save that it seemed to be attached to some sort of scooter. Even so, as they took their order, it lingered on his mind... So once there was a pause in their speech, Gordan spoke up. "Forgive me, I couldn't help but overhear, but... That device you mentioned? That sounds very handy, at the least for reporting. I look forward to seeing that in use. ...As for safety, that's all well and good, and it's good you're doing the checks. But don't be so narrowly focused on safety alone that you forget to make strides forward with a device like that. Not when it could do so much good." Gordan has thoughts on DUDE BRO™ ( Jayeee), and makes a short remark to him that wasn't meant positively but could be interpreted as such. He overhears the conversation between the reporters ( icon) and has Opinions™ on the device, expressing his intrigue and giving advice that borders on "safety last".
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Post by Celestial on Sept 13, 2016 5:18:15 GMT -5
Tabitha felt a twinge of guilt at having pried far too deep into business which was not her own. Was that not the mark of a rather rude person, or at least one who was far too keen to know things that they should not know. However, she had only been making small talk. It was perfectly fine for Sinclair to say as little as he wished. "I must apologise for being so nosy, Mr. Sinclair. The business with the Queen is certainly not mine. Regardless, I hope the performance is a most smashing one, in the metaphorical sense of the word," she said, smiling at her boss in order to soften any offence that she had caused. "I very much look forward to the affair." It was her turn, however, to raise an eyebrow at Sinclair when he began speaking about their co-worker and winner, the man formerly known as Eyescream Man (a silly name, Tabitha had always thought, sounding far too much like a certain frozen summertime treat, but she had never said anything- if he wished to be a fool, he could). While it was true he had some...detestable qualities, as she could attribute first-hand, it was nevertheless a poor show to spread gossip. That was why she was so surprised when one of the veterans of the show, a charming older lady who went by the name of Dossier Dame, approached and joined their chat and began to speak about the former hero. Of course, she was hardly going to berate either of them for such idle gossip. Sinclair was her boss and DeeDee, as an older lady and a veteran of the show, was someone she greatly respected. "And a good day to you too, madam DeeDee," Tabitha addressed the heroine with a gentle curtsy and a tip of her hat before turning back to the conversation. "With all due respect, I will keep my thoughts on Ilia to myself, though I am aware of his...acquaintance with the man who calls himself by that ghastly name. I have had my encounters with them, as I am sure you are aware," she glanced between them. DUDE BRO had attempted more than a few passes at her, with Eyescream Man being his wingman on the side. All of which she had declined, some- to her deepest regret- more violently than others (some people did not get the hint). "It will be a shame nevertheless to not have him on the show- he was an excellent draw for the crowds. I do nevertheless look forward to seeing and meeting his successors. I am sure they will simply be a delight." She turned back to Sinclair, still smiling. "People can wear their mask as long as they wish, though not in my case, alas," the young woman laughed. "It's all part of the business, however long one wishes to engage in it. Though, I believe I might end up beating even your record, Madam DeeDee: I must say I do love this show." Tabitha apologises to Sinclair ( Shinko) for being rude and nosy and disapproves a little of the gossip going around about the winner, the Eyescream Man, even being surprised when DeeDee ( Ginz ❤) joins in. She instead says that she is happy that he is happy and is excited for the new people, as well as remarking that she will stay on for a while.
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Post by Shinko on Sept 13, 2016 7:59:19 GMT -5
"You completely missed my point," Sinclair noted, somewhat irritated with Tabitha for fixating on the comments about Eyescream Man and ignoring the rest of what he'd said- except for the metaphor she'd taken rather too literally. Waving a gloved hand as if to dismiss it, he shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. I don't know why I still bother trying to explain these things. It's all for the show, after all." He turned to Dossier Dame, his expression softening a trifle. "But where are my manners- good morning, Dee. Timed your arrival just to get here after I'd put out my cigarette didn't you?" The man winced a bit, rubbing his right shoulder as if it were paining him. He jerked his head towards the HCN building. "Perhaps we should move this conversation inside; it's far too cold out here and my break is ending soon. Besides there are some things I should brief you both on in a more private venue before the premier tonight. In particular pertaining to those holes in the roster." * * * A young man was heading through the area of Heraclia which was rather well known for housing the competing restaraunts Gyro City and Shawarma Sha, though unlike most people he wasn't interested in eathing at either of the places. He preferred a good burger to a gyro or shawarma any day. No, this fellow was just passing through, though he did crane his neck a bit to watch in amusement as a bit of a hoopla seemed to be going on in the gyro place. When people met this young man, one of the first things they always did was gawk and ask hm if he was Bill Sinclair. Of course, he wasn't- he was far too young to be the forty-three year old Hero City veteran, which people generally realized when they gave the young fellow a closer look. But aside from his age, in every other way he could've been Sinclair's twin. He had the same icy blue eyes, the same wavy blonde hair (though styled in a much shorter cut than the HCN boss), a very similar set to his facial features, and even the same propesity to freckle in a very dramatic fashion, thought his freckles of course were not in the same places as the older man. For now, though, everyone seemed more interested in whatever was going on in Gyro City than in the passerby, and he managed to get through the crowd to the opposite site of the street without illiciting either glance or comment. At least, until his heel skidded on an icy patch on the sidewalk, causing him to stumble. He windmilled his arms frantically, just managing to catch his balance before he tumbled to the ground- but not before colliding with a woman carrying a bag from Shawarma Sha. The man quickly reached out to catch her arm before she fell. "Ah, I'm so sorry, Miss!" He gasped. "Are you alright?" Even though Tabitha ( Celestial) does not directly call Sinclair out, he can still read the judgyness in her words and demeanor and takes offense, getting rather crabby as result. (There is a reason he doesn't have a lot of friends, ahaha). He then says hello to Dossier Dame ( Ginz ❤) and suggests that they move the conversation inside 'cause it's cold yo. Meanwhile, in another part of the city, a new challenger approaches! A man who looks like Sinclair if he was twenty years younger and didn't have a grudge against fun is out for a walk, and bumps (literally) into Miss Marković ( Reiqua). Wonder who this gent could be?
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Post by Jayeee on Sept 13, 2016 12:19:36 GMT -5
DUDE BRO™ glanced over at a nearby table of teenagers as the utility belt-clad hero replied to his clever comment. It was always so difficult for him to focus on a conversation when it didn’t involve hot girls, so much so that sometimes he just pictured whomever he was talking to as one instead. It certainly made Bill Sinclair more attractive to talk to! (He always saw him as a luscious blonde with killer hips, and he was totally into being shouted at by someone like that). Snapping his attention back to his speedos and the mention of them being easy to see, he nodded emphatically. “You totally get it, right? If i’m moving fast enough then they’re just a blur, but I had them designed so that you can still make out the speedo shape bouncing along as I run on by. Makes for some great photobombs!” With this in mind, DUDE BRO™ dashed to the table he’d been eyeing and snapped a quick selfie with them in the space of three seconds before returning to his original position. “See what I mean? It kinda leaves an after-trail of golden goodness.” His attention-span once again slipping, DUDE BRO™ jerked his head in different directions at a rapid rate in order to find something more interesting than a drab male hero. What he found instead was his favourite thing ever. Well, second favourite because girls. “Yo, yo, yo, it’s mah homeboy Fireflydude!” He raced over to the nearby counter and draped his arm loosely over the fellow superhero. “Didja come in here just to find me? I bet you did!” DUDE BRO™ had a soft spot for his glowing bro friend. As he’d quickly learnt with Eyescream Man, making a sidekick out of a premiere hero with goals and aspirations was far too time-consuming. Especially when they were the most likely to quit the game and retire early. He needed his wingman to be reliable. Reliable and devoted. And the second he’d set eyes on this little insectoid fighter, he knew he’d hit the jackpot. The guy could glow after all, and DUDE BRO™ was nothing if not attracted to the spotlight. (And women. A woman-shaped spotlight.) “Yo, girls and less hot versions of girls,” he called to the restaurant in general. “You better keep a watch out for this one in the coming future. He’s a dark horse-,” he paused and thought about that. “Wait, edit that bit out. He’s a shiny beetle thing! This might be your new Allstar hero right here!” DUDE BRO™ turned to the cashier serving his dude. “Hey, think you can give us this one on the house? He’ll even throw in a kiss for you,” he said, removing the arm he had around Fireflyman and nudging him playfully. It was then that he heard it. Although superhuman good looks were his real power and super speed was his gift, he had also been graced with spectacular hearing, especially when his name was mentioned. Even if it was just a clever and loving nickname, he still noticed. BuddyGuy. Well, it was unique, that was for sure. Usually it was the same old 'Jerkwad', 'Obnoxiously Handsome Dude', or 'Please Stop Dancing Like That, Man'. With such an amazing name already, DUDE BRO™ loved that his fans liked to come up with pet names instead. In truth, he’d never actually picked DUDE BRO™ so much as it was his real name. On Mancandia, men chose their own name, and he had picked DUDE BRO IZ SO COOL LIKE. Except that he had wanted to fit into Heraclia, and figured that they’d want something normal. And so DUDE BRO™ was made! “Yo, glowbro, you grab your food and then come over and find me, i’ll introduce you to these fans,” he said with a hearty slap on his glowbro’s back, before he dashed over to the two young speakers - they’d already been joined by that utility guy. “Always appreciate the fans-,” DUDE BRO™ paused mid-sentence and just in time to catch the second half of utilitydude’s speech. He was polite at least, and waited patiently for the guy to finish talking, nodding occasionally to pretend that he was actually listening properly. “Yo, who are you, Handyman?” He asked eventually, raising an eyebrow and then getting the witty job-title-turned-hero-name. “Hey, I totally get it. I’m pretty handy myself, if you know what I mean.” He winked at the girl he’d been talking to. So I was all like, YAWN! because who has time for talking to someone who isn't a hot girl? But then he freakin' complimented my costume, so I just had to give him a proper look at it like, POSE!But then I spotted my number one bro, Moni . So I was all like, YAY! I told everyone how awesome he is and even got his meal for free too like, CHIVALROUS!Then I heard one of my killer nicknames being mentioned so I scooted on over there like, YOUCALLED?! Turns out that Gelquie was there too all like, YOUGETAROUND! He was talking all tech stuff with icon like, BLAHBLAHBLAH! But I waited until they were finished because, GENTLEMAN! And then I made a joke to a hot girl. BROIFIC!
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Post by Pixie on Sept 13, 2016 14:02:51 GMT -5
It was approaching noon, and Felicita Martin was making preparations to set up some flashy new equipment in her club, humming and dancing around to the sweet and heavy music pulsing from her earbuds. Mr. Greenwood, the gentleman who actually owned the place, had left her and Mandy with it during the day. It had been a year or two since she took up her job there, right after she finished school (and marching band with it), and boy, did she enjoy it. Music had always been her thing, even when she was little. That, and her pet snake Cornelia, but she never brought her snake to work with her. She was marking off spots with blue masking tape where new speakers and lights were to be placed, and taking all the shiny new stuff out of the packaging with a broad grin on her face. The Electric Base was the most prominent electronic dance club in town. The place felt cozy to her, with just enough room for the regular crowd and a few newcomers to fit their way among the flashing lights and mist machines. Felicita Martin, when it was her turn disc jockeying, had her fans. She had learned to keep the dance floor animated with wild, lively mixes of music, while her friend from high school worked all the special equipment. Scaletta of the Serpentine Sister’s, Salamandy’s sidekick, used a hidden room in The Electric Base for her heroic operations. Under the eye of the Hero City cameras, a minor stint a year ago, and more prominently for the up-and-coming season, Scaletta had her own fans. This same brash charisma worked for both of them, as of course, they were the exact same woman. She took out her phone and sent a quick message to Mandy: She put down all the new equipment, strolled over to the staff room door, and walked in. Mandy might be awhile, but Felicita was just itching for some excitement, even if she’d still have to wait to be back on Hero City. She unpacked her keyboard from its case, flipped its switch from DJ mode to performance mode, and set it into the stand near the dance floor. She plopped her earbuds into the pocket of her hoodie, and began to improvise a bouncy tune on her keyboard as she waited for Mandy to arrive. Felicita Martin, better known as ( Rabbit ♠ )’s sidekick, Scaletta, sets up equipment in her dance club in town. She waits for Mandy to arrive and plays keyboard music that is audible to people in the streets.
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Post by Dju on Sept 13, 2016 14:46:05 GMT -5
For a moment there, in the darkness, all that Timothy could hear was the sound of his own breathing. It was a heavy and peaceful rhythm that flooded his mind and spread all over his body, like a mother’s reassuring lullaby. But that lullaby did not last very long, because from the depths of that same darkness a harsh and cruel whisper reached him: “It’s all wrong, Timothy Hikes,” it said “Open your eyes.” He obeyed, and what he saw next did not please him. Timothy found himself standing on a metallic platform he knew very well, facing a familiar yet nonetheless frightening sight: a portal. It stood only a few feet away, and he could feel its intense energy roaring at him. “It’s ready, Mr. Hikes” a male voice said. This time it did not come from his head, but from the helmet around it. “Go.” He took a few steps further. The portal screeched. “Walk away, you idiot” he told himself, “Turn back and walk away, this is a mistake!” But there was no point in saying such things now. Timothy knew that no matter what, it would never change what followed next. The portal grew hungrier. “Do it!” the voice persisted. “But it’s-” he tried to argue, the words failed him. Tim checked the clock on the sleeve of his suit, it said: 03:45 PM. “I’ll prepare shutdown!” No time for that - the energy was too much to be contained and it could no longer wait for Timothy, it broke off the metal platform and dragged him inside, not giving the boy even a chance to scream for help – all he saw was the red alert lights flashing at the lab and then… …and then what? He could not remember well. Whatever it was, it did him no harm. It caused him no pain. It was emptiness, and emptiness would’ve been a thousand times better than the horror that followed his return to reality. The portal expelled him. It was no accident: his life had been saved by human hands, for sure. Hands that now held him, treated him, tried to bring him to consciousness. “Can you hear me?” Someone asked, pointing a flashlight to his eyes. “Tell me your name.” Timothy opened his mouth, but what came from it was no answer – it was a screech – a horrid and haunting screech caused by the immense pain that filled his head. He swore that he’d die right there, and so he let his agony turn into sobs. “He’s bleeding! His nose is bleeding!” Another person said in shock. Their words dissolved into mumbles, and Tim soon realized they were slowing down. Everything was slowing down. And then speeding up. His world then turned into a mocking hallucination, in which people around him came as fast and they went and the hours insisted in dragging along. He knew he was no longer at the lab – they’ve moved him somewhere else. But it didn’t matter, wherever he was, the agony was the same as the one he felt laying on an old laboratory’s floor. How long has it been since the portal let go of him? He couldn’t tell. The world kept spinning on and on, following no rhythm at all and torturing him while at it. It was punishment. Punishment for meddling with nature, and now he was left in a never ending blur or colors and images that would eventually drive him mad. But midst all those blurred faces and muffled noises came something he hadn’t heard in a long time – a word. A word? No. It was not a word. It was a name, was it not? “Tim,” it called. The world spun slower. “Tim!” It insisted. “Jun,” He managed to whisper. “Tim –shoot, my goggles – “ He blinked and found himself in his bed, alone. “Timmyyy.” Jun called impatiently. “Oy, Glitchpants!” “Glitchpants?” He whispered again, his headache finally giving him a break. He rubbed his eyes and the world stopped spinning, letting his room come into focus. “Tim you lazy lump, GET YOUR REAR OUT OF BED!” “Argh!” He yelled. “Bed? I’m in bed? Jun, where are you-“ He looked around and realized their voice was coming from a small and discreet earpiece resting by his bedside. He reached for it and listened: "Emergency, no time to- well, you have, but I don't.” They said, “Hostage situation, train track, near some old petting zoo, ten minutes. You-know-who is there. Why - couldn't it be - when I was dressed." “I-I…” he gathered his thoughts, he didn’t want to sound…messed up. “Ten minutes. Right. Be there in five.” He lay the earpiece beside him and then glared at the clock he kept hanging on his wall. It ticked relentlessly, but Tim knew it was no match for him. He closed his eyes and sighed: “I just need a moment. A moment to think.” The ticking stopped. Well, it didn’t – it was still pushing forward, but so terribly slow it was as if the clock was frozen. The same happened to the birds flying by Tim’s balcony, and of course the cars speeding on the street below. The world slowed down. “It’s not slow,” he reminded himself “I’m the one who’s too fast.” Letting his head fall onto his hands, Timothy focused on his wretched headache: the pain was his top concern until he noticed the blood flowing from his nose. It was drenching his shirt and staining his bed sheets. How did I get here? He asked himself, How could I be asleep? I haven’t slept in…He gazed at the calendar hanging beside his frozen clock. “2 years, 5 months and 17 days.” He said aloud. On anything other than his agenda, Tim was a complete mess. But ever since he was spit out from that portal, he learned the importance of keeping track of each and every day – he would either have to note everything down, or else they would scramble into a faint memory, until they became lost to him. Since that incident, his mind persists in going back to that same point – April 26th, 3:45 PM. It always felt like April to him. It always felt like the afternoon. He was in constant battle against his semi-paralyzed subconscious. The rest of him, however, succeeded at remaining at that precise moment. No matter the change that ocurred to him – whether it’d be an injury or a simple haircut – he’d just slowly reverse. He was, in a way, paused. And so he hadn’t slept since, yet somehow, he came to find himself lost in bed sheets. The bed itself was his refuge: its presence gave him a feeling of normality, and lounging on it for hours helped him organize his thoughts. But never before had he fallen asleep on it, or made such a dreadful mess. How did this happen? How did I get here? Where was I yesterday?Panicking, he opened his top drawer and snatched one of the many little black notebooks he kept in there. He made sure he wrote everything down, the things he had done and the things he should do next. The most recent entry said: “8 PM – Movie night with Natasha”.“Natasha.” He gasped, laying a hand over his forehead. He had even highlighted that note. Natasha. Natasha. Natasha.How could he forget? No, that he would never manage. The mere thought of her pushed away the dizzying pressure in his head. For the past few weeks, she’s been all he could manage to think about. She moved at her own pace, her own rhythm, her own song. It was inevitable to fall in love, even though they had only met in…how many days? He’d had to check the logbook. But it didn’t matter, he felt like he knew her since always. So, yesterday he was at the movies with her. Yes, of course he was – but what after that? And most importantly: what became of her? He desperately searched for his phone and checked her profile – “last seen: 30 minutes ago”. So she was fine. But what about them? Were they fine? What did he do? Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong to her? “Hey, are u alright? Something went wrong”, he typed. And then immediately regretted it and erased it. He took a glance of his bloodied bed and felt his stomach drop. What would she think of him? She’d be frightened. Maybe she was frightened already. Should he act as if all was normal and none of this happened? Maybe nothing went wrong at all. Or at least, not in her presence. He then looked back at his earpiece. How long would it take for Jun and Tim to solve whatever was happening out there in Heraclia? Would there be time for both his best friend and girlfriend? You’ve got all the time of the world, numb skull. And so he texted her: That sounds normal enough, right? I even added a heart.And now back to Jun – or better, Zenith. He checked the clock again, the pesky arrow managed to make 10 seconds. How inconvenient. As Tim came to find out for himself, Time did not wish to be bent. The more he sped himself up, the more nature would fight back. He’d soon have to let go of his grip and let the universe have its will with time. He dashed to get ready – washed his face, made himself proper again, got his black suit on and of course – snatched his all black helmet. “You were with me that day, old pal” he told it before putting it on. “You’re a survivor just as much as I am.” Tim quickly found himself in his garage and standing side by side were his bicycle and his electric motorbike. From someone else's perspective, Tim was as fast as lighting, but walking everywhere was just as boring and tiring for him as it is for anyone else, so of course he got himself a mean looking motorbike. It was silent, all black and perfect for speed and discretion while zooming through Heraclia in hyper speed. The cars in the highway were now visibly moving, but he was still able to cut them through and – by following the elevated train tracks – he eventually reached the petting zoo and saw them both: Zenith, in all their flying glory and of course, the unmistakable and unforgettable Nyx Nightshadow. “And to think that one day I had a fan crush on you,” he said to himself, perplexed by his past self’s naiveté. All he had to do was climb his way to the tracks, calmly place himself behind Nyx and then – finally – resume normal time speed. He didn’t say anything. Why spoil the surprise with a lame pun? He just crossed his arm, let his mocking grin burn through his helmet while waiting for Zen’s signal. Timothy Hikes finds himself having a dream (or better, a nightmare) after 2 years without a single hour's sleep. In it, he relives memories from a day he can't let go of - the day he got Glitch'ed. All he can remember from yesterday was his date with his mysterious and beautiful girlfriend, Natasha ( Twillie). After gathering his thoughts, Tim gets in his Glitch gear and heads out to help Liou stop Thorn from spreading chaos and evil.
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Post by Thorn on Sept 13, 2016 15:54:53 GMT -5
Waiting for Zenith to show up had been excruciating. Nyx had resorted to gagging both prisoners with her socks just to shut them up- ”When’s Zenith getting here?” “Are they really as strong as people say?” “Aww and I don’t have my…can I please go and get my Zenith poster?”Even while gagged, they somehow managed to convey their annoying adoration the moment Zenith called out to her. Nyx sneered and placed her boot across the nearest prisoner’s forehead, pushing her none-too-gently back against the ground, while she got a handle on the situation. Zenith had the higher ground here, with the angle and scenery well and truly in their favour- it would take every ounce of strength Nyx had just to match their presentation. Rude. Did you have to upstage me at my own kidnapping? Just get to your fans already. “My most hateful nemesis!” she proclaimed by way of verbal response, spreading her arms wide in greeting and allowing her shields to flare up, just a little, just for the effect. “And who are you to criticise my ‘fashion sense’, as you so quaintly label it? My attire is tasteful, classic and time-tested. You appear as if you are cavorting about in a wetsuit.” Nyx grinned as nastily as she could manage. She felt a muscle spasm in her left cheek, but ignored this and shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. “If you want your precious fans back, you shall just have to come and get them yourself!” Nyx stood over the two prisoners, slid her left foot back so that she was looking at her adversary over her right shoulder. This angle had been carefully chosen- not only was she positioned well in the case that photographers suddenly appeared, as they tended to do when Zenith was around, but her outer cloak billowed majestically around her and her hair streamed behind her in what was surely an eye-catching manner. Yes. Good. Now come down here already you stupid jerk. I have to run but didn't want to wait all day to continue this little story, so here! Nyx takes Liou 's banter-bait, but otherwise doesn't do very much (sorry guys, I promise I'll include more material in my next post!). She is not yet aware of Dju 's presence.
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Post by Moni on Sept 13, 2016 15:58:22 GMT -5
DUDE BRO had just endorsed him. On principle, that alone was enough to erase his entire dignity, but even worse was the fact that he'd done it in front of people--and not just any people who were trying to enjoy their time at a Gyro place--he'd done it in front of MASK media people. Who would in turn tell the entire human world. He could see the rumors now: FIREFLYMAN A NEW WINGMAN TO HE-WHO-SHALL-NOT-BE NAMED? FORMER FAMILY-FRIENDLY HERO TURNS DARK. Followed by tons of "scientific specials" about the reproduction of fireflies and countless fanfics portraying him as a creepy stalker. He had to nip this in the bud. And quickly. There were multiple avenues for doing this, most of which would probably fly past DUDE BRO's head. One option that Fireflyman entertained for a while was to play along with DUDE BRO and, when when that husk of an organism that lacked a functioning brain was off guard, inject him with a most potent concentration of digestive enzyme which would liquify his body from the inside. That was murder, and murder was decidedly unethical. He knew this because it had been drilled into him during his rehabilitation courses. Unlike his old firefly ways, he couldn't just get rid of anyone he strongly disliked. Sanctity of sapient life and all that (whether DUDE BRO fit the category of "sapient life" was entirely up to debate.) Gruesome first-degree murder on the first day of Hero City was also not family-friendly. And besides, doing that would land him in prison. For life--but Fireflyman wasn't sure if being in prison for life was a good deterrent when DUDE BRO was right there, flouting his dignity like it was nothing. With begrudging reluctance, Fireflyman let out a sigh and counted down from five to let his scattering, apocalyptic thoughts quiet down. Five. DUDE BRO wasn't particularly intelligent. He probably didn't know the sheer magnitude of the destruction he had just unleashed upon Fireflyman's life. Four. And didn't Fireflyman know what it was like to have this crippling level of unintelligence? He was once a simple insect, after all; and yes, it was indeed true that it meant that he had a higher IQ score than DUDE BRO, but he could remember his life, right? All he did was drink, eat, run away from predators, hunt, reproduce, and glow. Three. In fact, Fireflyman used to be a total casanova back in the day. He had a lot of girlfriends--and a lot of progeny. Unlike humans, fireflies didn't really have a lot of contact with their offspring--his "girlfriends" just laid their eggs and the larvae hatched, and they were on their own. Two. Wait a second, thought Fireflyman, does that mean I'm a deadbeat father?One. He meditated on this thought. Zero. Fireflyman made a note to himself to make an appointment with a therapist to make sure this dark, indescribable emotion inside of him was a normal reaction. He felt a little like Atlas, with the weight of despair the size of this entire earth on his shoulders. And, partially because he disliked that book by Ayn Rand, he could not shrug. He gave a too-wide smile to the cashier. "Sorry. Uh, don't take that payment, Kaysha," he said quietly. "Just . . . just use the gift card." Kaysha nodded, rung Fireflyman out, and cheerfully wished him a happy day. “Yo, glowbro, you grab your food and then come over and find me, I’ll introduce you to these fans,” said DUDE BRO in his signature annoying voice that slowly effaced whatever pity Fireflyman had managed to construct for him. Still, he had some pity left--right? And it was his duty to at least appear kind to him. Right? "Fans." Right. Okay. "I'm ever so grateful for your hospitality, DUDE BRO!" said Fireflyman loudly, adopting his chipper tone, the one he normally had when he wasn't around DUDE BRO, the one with a clear childlike quality his few fans loved to hear. He thought of some words that sounded nice but would perhaps be too big for DUDE BRO to understand--not that he would ever look it up, anyway: "You're such a great, ignoble sciolist!" After making out an escape route from the restaurant and into the HNC Headquarters, Fireflyman coughed into his hand, letting a few drops of his digestive enzyme escape. "Indeed, you should always be thankful for gifts from others. I'm glad to make your acquaintance!" He rubbed DUDE BRO's head in an artificially affectionate display. Basically, Jayeee broke Fireflyman. So Fireflyman decides quickly that he's in a PR disaster (especially with icon 's MASK nearby) apologizes to Coaster 's Kaysha in Gyro City and makes sa great effort at not-really becoming DUDE BRO's "friend." To give something to the cameras, he attempts to mess up DUDE BRO's hair with a trace amount of a powerful acidic enzyme.
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