The Universe's Mixer

Fred had slept on it like Jack had asked. She'd eaten on it, walked on it, and was now computing on it. Her walking away wasn't something she took lightly, but she wasn't sure what she really wanted when it came to Mayor Jack Heart. If he called, it was easy to ignore, which was cheating. The pager was easily put to the side and forgotten, especially when she was busy doing something else. Fred was busy working on reconfiguring the comms for the soon to be Justice League, City chapter. Or JLC, just seemed a more efficient moniker.

Fred's fingers flew once more over the many keyboards, pulling up schematics, networks, files. Her mind buzzed with plans and information. Thinking about the future for superheroes and the ones they'd save was helping in putting off a decision she really did have to make. She'd thought she'd made it, but the talk with Logan, what there was of it, had nudged the decision from definitely made to not so sure. It was a little aggravating.

"Not like I ever had to deal with this problem before. You'd think that this sort of thing would be easy, but it isn't? Sure, I can recite pi out to how many places? A bunch. 3.141592653589793..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to recite and look for something in the files. What was it again?

"But then he shows up. All pretty. Charles had been pretty, Wesley too. Only they weren't Jack. Jack's pretty, and Eric. Eric." There was another issue that she really did not want to think about. No one knew about Eric, her secret. "And, you're talking to yourself." A pause. "Who else are you gonna talk to? Not like you can just ring up Bruce Wayne and ask him if he'd like to get a coffee." Another pause. "Right? No, that'd be rude. Can't act like you know who he is, right?"

Rufio had finally finished compiling a new outfit for himself, and just in time. While tying up a new trapeze to get across the warehouse faster in case of emergency he'd ripped his pants up the sides. All of his clothes had started to get tighter, and seeing as he'd built them to be tight in the first place, it wasn't comfortable to be wearing them anymore. Of course, he hadn't ever planned on growing anymore, so he hadn't needed to worry about seeing his ankles under his pant hem, but if he had to get bigger he'd still make sure he looked good.

It was night when he finished and pulled on his new clothes in the warehouse's bathroom. A pair of tighter blue jeans with a heavy studded belt he'd stolen from a store, a new, bigger leather jacket which he'd attached spiked studs to the shoulderpads. He'd also found some new shirts at a small shop that had a bunch of them in large bins, but the little old lady who was running the store had been nice, so he'd given her money for the shirts instead of stealing them like he did his pants. He liked the shirts, he'd picked out ones with cartoons and characters on them, and one that the woman told him read "RAWR". He wore that one now, and that and some new black combat boots and a spiked metal collar made him feel a bit better, and fingerless leather gloves and an arm band completed the look. He was certainly more comfortable, and when he looked at himself in the mirror of the warehouse bathroom he thought he cut a rather impressive image. He taller, anyway. And willing to let some of the hair on his chin continue to grow in. It really wasn't growing on the sides of his face, which was fine by him.

He touched his hair, wondering if he shouldn't change it too. He'd let go of most of his homemade jewelry, after all, and the red and black stuck out in this city and been laughed at. Rufio shook his head, it was still too cool to change. Attaching his sword's sheath to his belt he grabbed his skateboard and headed out into the City, not bothered that it was late into sunset and getting dark quickly. Dark was fun.

( Skating through the streets he turned to go find the hospital. )

Rufio left the hospital still a bit dizzy from giving his blood to the doctor, but otherwise wide awake after eatting that yellow cake thing Hank had given him. It had been pretty good, and did help somewhat with the dizziness.

The young man decided to go get more, so dropping his skateboard to the floor he hopped on it and took off down the street, winding up at a small convenience mart where they sold sodas and snacks. Heading in he ignored the owner who gave him a withering look for bringing his sword in the shop, and instead went to search for the little cakes.

He found them fairly quickly and grabbed a few, paying quickly and then heading out front to sit on the curb and enjoy his treat, his board resting next to him as he tried to work out how to open the plastic wrapper without hurting his hand too much. Even grabbing the whole thing was making the cut on his palm pull and start to bleed a little bit again.

He looked at the bandage and the red straining the center of his palm, but then shrugged and let it go, picking up his sword and carefully using the tip to slice through the plastic wrapper. Overkill? Yes. Oddly satisfying to watch the sword nearly cut through the entire package in under a second? Definitely.