2010-01-03 - Cutscene: Saturday Night at the H.I.V.E.
From JLU MUX
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| Saturday Night at the H.I.V.E. | |||
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| Summary: A typical weekend night for a group of atypical teenagers. Plot Scene: Youth In Revolt | |||
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"Dude, I just... do you even know how this game /works/?" wonders Match, following what could only be termed as an 'embarrassing victory' in Whee!Bowling.
"No, I--no, I've never had the occasion--"
"Grife, how long are you two going to be at it with this glorified abacus? And /anyway/, unless they make a prayer and fasting sim, Altar Boy's screwed," Sun Girl sneers before Kid Crusader can finish his stammered response. This draws both a wounded expression from the young orphan in black and white and a stifled snicker from Match. The redhead from the future, rather than pay any real heed to the former, helps herself to the narrow space on the couch between the pair; this both edges Kid Crusader out and gives her space enough to drape an arm over Match's shoulders.
"My--my name is /Kid Crusader/. I've /told/ you, it is not--I--/darnit/..." he sputters as he vacates the couch. Before he can get much further in his (futile) attempts at earning some kind of respect or understanding, he's gently tugged away by Chain Lightning, whose bowed head and messy platinum hair are doing quite the job of concealing her concerned expression.
"They're very mean; you don't deserve that kinda treatment. At least, I don't think you do; you're way, way nicer than /they/ are," she quietly says as he lowers himself to the ground beside her.
"Th--thank you, Amy, I--"
"Angie, silly, remember? I'm /Angie/," Chain Lightning corrects with a giggle. A little pile of jacks and a red rubber ball mostly hidden by her other hand is revealed. "Wanna play?" she brightly asks.
"I--well, certainly, um, Angie..."
Before he can scoop the little red ball up and begin playing, however, the game pieces are all blown away in a sudden rush of wind and blurry, black and green. Hair goes flying, clothing rustles, papers are whipped into a fleeting tornado, but the annoyed looks from the rest of the assemblage fade once that impossibly fast shape comes to a stop.
"Hey," he bites off sharply, "Mistress wants us all on high alert; I /really/ think that we need to train more, guys. Things are about to get really, really serious, and we don't even have the rest of our team, and--"
"Boooooriiiiing," proclaims Match, evoking over-embellished laughter from Sun Girl and a scowl from the interrupted Inertia.
"Sprockin'--fine. /Fine/," the speedster tersely says as he stalks out of the recreational room. Before he's fully gone, he lays his hand over the purple, four-celled honeycomb on the door and glares towards Match and Sun Girl. "I don't know about /you/, but I've been getting ready. Don't blame /me/ if you end up in some Watchtower prison cell, or worse."
With that, Inertia is gone.
Match and Sun Girl, they just return to laughing at him.
