Capes 'Verse: A First Meeting
Referenced here, it's just Spectre and Psyon's first meeting.
Mild Warning: Spectre might be a little chattier than in the other piece, just to showcase how different he meant for his real life and his alter-ego to be.
You teleport up to the roof where the cape who saved your life sits. “Hi!”
“Holy shit!” The kid flails around and you have a moment to see that his mask is a seamless piece of porcelain with no eyeholes before he falls right off the edge of the building.
It takes the work of a moment to meet the other cape midair and then teleport safely to the ground. “Might want to watch out for that sitting on the edge business if you can’t use telekinesis to keep yourself from going splat,” you say helpfully as he catches his breath. “Unless you’re the kind of psychic meta who can only read minds-thanks for the heads-up by the way; almost lost my head there- and then what the hell were you doing on the edge anyway?”
“Do you ever shut up?” the other meta grouses.
You smile because yeah, definitely not a new reaction. “Nope. So, I take it you’re an umbrella psychic or a crappy precog.”
“Okay, maybe you didn’t get the hint to scram? I only warned you about that guy because your own stupidity shouldn’t kill you when there are plenty of other people who want to.” The other cape dusts himself off and stands; you’re privately amused to note that you’re taller than him. “And yeah, I’m an umbrella psychic. Kind of new, are you happy now?”
You follow him when he heads down the street. “You joining that list of people who want me dead?”
“I’m going to be at the very top if you don’t stop harassing me. Honestly, don’t you ‘porters have anything better to do with your time than bother people?”
“Ha, no. I’m Spectre.”
“Where the hell did you get that name from?” he demands and turns to look at you.
You grin wider and start doing a bunch of little ‘ports just a foot or so apart from each other. “Japanese horror movie-inspired,” you say. It freaked more than a couple other people out the first few times. “It was almost Glorified Mass Transport.”
“Oh my gosh, I’ve got a brain-damaged teleporter tagging along like an idiot puppy.” He resumes walking and you teleport to his side so you can walk with him. “There’s no getting rid of you, is there?”
“Hmmm, nope. Gonna tell me your name?”
“It’s Psyon.”
Mild Warning: Spectre might be a little chattier than in the other piece, just to showcase how different he meant for his real life and his alter-ego to be.
You teleport up to the roof where the cape who saved your life sits. “Hi!”
“Holy shit!” The kid flails around and you have a moment to see that his mask is a seamless piece of porcelain with no eyeholes before he falls right off the edge of the building.
It takes the work of a moment to meet the other cape midair and then teleport safely to the ground. “Might want to watch out for that sitting on the edge business if you can’t use telekinesis to keep yourself from going splat,” you say helpfully as he catches his breath. “Unless you’re the kind of psychic meta who can only read minds-thanks for the heads-up by the way; almost lost my head there- and then what the hell were you doing on the edge anyway?”
“Do you ever shut up?” the other meta grouses.
You smile because yeah, definitely not a new reaction. “Nope. So, I take it you’re an umbrella psychic or a crappy precog.”
“Okay, maybe you didn’t get the hint to scram? I only warned you about that guy because your own stupidity shouldn’t kill you when there are plenty of other people who want to.” The other cape dusts himself off and stands; you’re privately amused to note that you’re taller than him. “And yeah, I’m an umbrella psychic. Kind of new, are you happy now?”
You follow him when he heads down the street. “You joining that list of people who want me dead?”
“I’m going to be at the very top if you don’t stop harassing me. Honestly, don’t you ‘porters have anything better to do with your time than bother people?”
“Ha, no. I’m Spectre.”
“Where the hell did you get that name from?” he demands and turns to look at you.
You grin wider and start doing a bunch of little ‘ports just a foot or so apart from each other. “Japanese horror movie-inspired,” you say. It freaked more than a couple other people out the first few times. “It was almost Glorified Mass Transport.”
“Oh my gosh, I’ve got a brain-damaged teleporter tagging along like an idiot puppy.” He resumes walking and you teleport to his side so you can walk with him. “There’s no getting rid of you, is there?”
“Hmmm, nope. Gonna tell me your name?”
“It’s Psyon.”