Dinner at the William's residence, Keystone.
Jakeem's eating dinner with his Aunt, the TV on in the background. His Aunt is flipping through a folder she brought home from work, clearly distracted -- and Jakeem can't say he minds. He's waiting for her to bring up the history essay.
Shuffling his vegetables around his plate with his fork, Jakeem glances at the TV. It's a news show, and there seems to be something happening in Gotham. Millionaire Bruce Wayne stops to spare a few words for reporter's and Jakeem wonders why the name sounds familiar. Wayne, Wayne -- got it! Wayne was Ibn's name. Jakeem snickers again at the memory, then almost falls out of his seat as the camera changes to Ibn himself.
"Hey! I know that guy!"
"Jakeem, sit down when you're eating," Lashawn says, disapprovingly. "One of your fancy-pants tight brigade is he?"
"Not exactly. Maybe. I dunno." Jakeem sits in front of the TV to see if Ibn does anything worth watching. His jaw drops as he sees his partner. "I don't believe it -- I didn't think Amazons were allowed to go to balls."
"Wonder Woman is it?" Lashawn asks. "Didn't recognise her dressed decently for once. I don't know what society is coming to when our so-called heroes run about in their undergarments, and as if young girls today didn't have enough pressure from the media --"
"Yeah, yeah." Jakeem's still brooding on the unfairness of it all. "No one told me we could ask Wonder Woman to stuff --" He blinks as the TV suddenly clicks off. "I was watching that --"
Lashawn puts the remote down. "You're eating your dinner. Sit down, Jakeem."
Jakeem grumbles as he returns to his chair. "I'm not hungry."
"You've hardly eaten anything. Are you feeling okay?"
Jakeem shrugs. "Just got this feeling, like I'm kind of . . . I dunno. Queasy maybe? It's weird. I don't think I'm sick, but --"
"You have been looking rather peaky," his Aunt agrees, putting her hand on his forehead. "Maybe you should go lie down."
Jakeem's about to protest that he's not tired, but then he realises that bed = no vegetables. He nods, looking as ill as he can. "Yeah, maybe you're right."
Lying in bed doesn't make the queasy feeling go away. The lack of any other distractions just seem to make it stronger. Jakeem sits up to dig in his trouser pocket for the pen containing the Thunderbolt and puts it under his pillow. He feels a bit better at least, knowing the genie is close.
Shuffling his vegetables around his plate with his fork, Jakeem glances at the TV. It's a news show, and there seems to be something happening in Gotham. Millionaire Bruce Wayne stops to spare a few words for reporter's and Jakeem wonders why the name sounds familiar. Wayne, Wayne -- got it! Wayne was Ibn's name. Jakeem snickers again at the memory, then almost falls out of his seat as the camera changes to Ibn himself.
"Hey! I know that guy!"
"Jakeem, sit down when you're eating," Lashawn says, disapprovingly. "One of your fancy-pants tight brigade is he?"
"Not exactly. Maybe. I dunno." Jakeem sits in front of the TV to see if Ibn does anything worth watching. His jaw drops as he sees his partner. "I don't believe it -- I didn't think Amazons were allowed to go to balls."
"Wonder Woman is it?" Lashawn asks. "Didn't recognise her dressed decently for once. I don't know what society is coming to when our so-called heroes run about in their undergarments, and as if young girls today didn't have enough pressure from the media --"
"Yeah, yeah." Jakeem's still brooding on the unfairness of it all. "No one told me we could ask Wonder Woman to stuff --" He blinks as the TV suddenly clicks off. "I was watching that --"
Lashawn puts the remote down. "You're eating your dinner. Sit down, Jakeem."
Jakeem grumbles as he returns to his chair. "I'm not hungry."
"You've hardly eaten anything. Are you feeling okay?"
Jakeem shrugs. "Just got this feeling, like I'm kind of . . . I dunno. Queasy maybe? It's weird. I don't think I'm sick, but --"
"You have been looking rather peaky," his Aunt agrees, putting her hand on his forehead. "Maybe you should go lie down."
Jakeem's about to protest that he's not tired, but then he realises that bed = no vegetables. He nods, looking as ill as he can. "Yeah, maybe you're right."
Lying in bed doesn't make the queasy feeling go away. The lack of any other distractions just seem to make it stronger. Jakeem sits up to dig in his trouser pocket for the pen containing the Thunderbolt and puts it under his pillow. He feels a bit better at least, knowing the genie is close.