Chapter 117 - 23 MVP

Over the course of the doomed appetizers getting utterly annihilated, Miss Calculated's attention keeps drifting off.

Whether she wants to admit it or not, Lucas's dumb weapon requests have turned into the problem-solving equivalent of an earworm, and refuses to let go.

"Well, the material only needs to be light enough to remain airborne after a strength supe throws it, which combined with a sufficiently aerodynamic design could actually be fairly heavy compared to a normal recreational one…" As Miss Calculated quietly mutters to herself while lost in thought, Willy is the only one that can clearly hear what she's saying.

While she had noshed a little bit, it was nothing compared to the hoovering that is occurring virtually everywhere else at the table.

She turns her gaze over to the late plate of cheese fries, now pitifully only bearing a small ramekin with a residual amount of ranch-based sauce, plus Willy's tongue greedily chasing the last few bits of bacon. Furrowing her brows for a moment, she leans forward and grabs the ramekin, setting it down to her right, well within comfortable reach. Within half of a second, Willy has managed to claim the one little piece of shredded cheese and small crumble of bacon that were previously trapped beneath it.

Shoving her small plate bearing nothing but a few little crumbs over towards Miss Masher, she dips the tip of her right index finger in the sauce and starts using it to draw directly on the tabletop.

"As long as the resilience or toughness is sufficient, could even consider a hollow design for some materials, or perhaps an alternate core… As long as thermal expansion of the core doesn't conflict with the outer material used…" As Miss Calculated starts compiling a list of potential materials on the wooden surface before her, she keeps drifting off or randomly pausing in her spoken train of thought.

Saucily doodling in her signature shorthand, the borderline unintelligible list features the numerical values of a few select relevant properties of the material listed, most of which are promptly crossed off within seconds of being written down.

"Mash! Give me the extra Dijonnaise. Actually, give me all the leftover sauces." Miss Calculated suddenly shouts out without even looking up after she goes to cross something off and only smudges it, rather than doing a strikethrough due to lack of ranchy ink alternative.

Miss Masher had been in the middle of biting a hot wing, promptly tearing it away to drop on her plate and immediately grabbing the ramekin off of the otherwise empty crab cake platter nearby. As time is of the essence, she immediately hands it off to Miss Calculated, covering it with several smudges of hot sauce in the process.

Like clockwork, Miss Calculated claims it with her left hand, dipping her right index finger into the new inkpot to resume her scribbling nearly uninterrupted. Continuing her listings, she shoves away the empty ranch vessel next to Willy and precisely sets the seafood sauce selection in the exact location she had the previous writing fluid replacement.

"Between the pressure and friction thanks to air resistance and the impact from the collision at the speeds achieved from the sheer strength propelling it, really need to actually consider the melting point… Ha!" Continuing her murmured material musing, Miss Calculated laughs several times while crossing off a few more now-rejected prospects.

Poor little Jonathan, currently unwillingly supporting a sizable portion of Miss Chievous's bodyweight, can't help but notice the urgency behind Miss Masher's actions as she continues her hunt for more sacrificial study-supply sauce.

Gently shoving Miss Chievous off of his right shoulder for the third time, he gets up to collect all of the available offerings, swiftly setting them next to the rapidly dwindling Dijonnaise.

Over the course of getting up and moving around, he had shed no few crumbs, courtesy of Miss Chievous messily eating the friend onion almost exclusively while resting her head on his shoulder.

Once he, begrudgingly, returns to his seat, Miss Chievous has fallen into another round of giggles. She waves a strip of crunchy onion around in the air, repeating her previous sagacious declaration of "Zoom!" as she decorates Jonathan with a new arrangement of crumbs.

"Mmm, thanks, Jonathan." Barely raising her voice above her previous mumbling levels, Miss Calculated does actually acknowledge his contribution to her scientifically motivated mess.

Miss Masher flashes him a smile, then resumes her dedicated hot wing destruction spree. Every once in a while, she glances at the stack of mostly clean bones on Lucas's abandoned plate, apparently intent on eating at least as many as he did after his head start.

Now Lucas, oh precious dumb tipsy dork Lucas, has cleared an area of the table and began playing marbles by himself, apparently deciding he wanted to leave room in his stomach for his pending entrée.

As great as his control has become from his superpowered levels of proprioception, it has been severely dampened by his inebriated state. It's almost a miracle that Jonathan didn't trip on one of the marbles Lucas shot off the table when he was darting around to deliver the sauces to Miss Calculated.

Whenever 23 passes by, whether to interact with the Thieves of Elsewhere table or to clear a few of the completely emptied platters from their table, it picks up and hands over several marbles every pass with a polite "Here you are sir, you dropped this."

Not wanting to risk triggering the excentric guests, 23 waits to claim any dish until after it has been licked spotless courtesy of Willy's tongue, apart from the dish for the coconut shrimp and fried onion due to toxicity concerns.

Speaking of 23, noticing that Miss Calculated is rapidly running out of available writing space, it has gone off to fetch a large strip of blank receipt paper and a pen for her scribbling pleasure.

Upon receiving this delivery, she pauses for a moment while making a confused "Hmm?" before noticing that it is intentionally blank.

"Oh, good. That'll do, thank you." Accepting the new work surface, she promptly begins writing on it instead of the table, re-writing the materials that have passed initial review before continuing on with still to be determined ones.

Noticing that she had re-written the un-crossed hieroglyphics onto the new surface of choice, 23 leaves and then returns with some cleaning supplies.

"Shall I clear the area for you, honored guest?" 23 Watches Miss Calculated's fervent scribbling until she makes a brief pause after crossing something off, then finally speaking up. Receiving a nod accompanied by an acknowledging hum, 23 starts systematically wiping down the sloppy nerd-storm writ upon the tabletop.

When it is mostly complete with its cleaning endeavors, a marble flies over, sliding through a streak of hot sauce enhanced blue cheese listing out the crossed-out melting point of Polypropylene. 23 gently plucks the marble and wipes it clean, then carefully sets it down within the cluster of marbles that Lucas is poorly aiming at.

When Miss Chievous picks up the last heel of bread from her breadbasket, she glares at the offending lack of butter within its designated area. Setting the bread back down, she gets a huge grin and slowly stands up, careful not to move her chair.

Jonathan watches her movements with clear confusion, wondering why she's being so overly careful not to touch anything as she works her way over to Lucas's breadbasket, slowly stealing a foil-wrapped pat of butter, and creeping back to her chair.

Even though she is clearly visible, Lucas is completely oblivious to her actions, wholly focused on being bad at shooting marbles at other completely stationary marbles with a comical degree of concentration.

Jonathan watches the entirety of Miss Chievous's actions with his brows furrowed, opening his mouth twice as if he's about to speak up, but instead opting to stay quiet.

Once Willy has no consumables worth licking within range, he uses his narrow snoot to nudge over his three chew toys, offering them to Lucas as barricades for the outer bounds of his improvised childish game.

Lucas is a bit slow to process just what Willy is doing, so Jonathan gets up and places them accordingly, eventually getting an enlightened "Ohh!" from Lucas about three seconds after he's finished doing so.

Once Miss Chievous is settled back on her seat, she liberally applies the entire pat of butter onto the small piece of bread and consumes it within short order. After shoving the basket vaguely in Willy's direction, she folds her arms on top of each other and leans forward to rest her right cheek on them, watching Lucas's game of marbles. After about five seconds in this position, she suddenly gains a look of enlightenment, carefully standing up once again.

As she starts slowly creeping towards the Thieves of Elsewhere table, slightly hunched forward and holding her arms up close to her chest, Miss Masher breaks out laughing.

"Uhoh, Chi's gone mobile!" After her mirthful announcement, Miss Masher makes no motions to interfere, simply continuing on her hot wing warpath.

Miss Calculated merely snorts, she doesn't so much as flick her gaze away from her writing for even a moment.

Lucas and Willy are engrossed in Lucas's game, leaving Jonathan alone in watching her slow-motion nonsense with a visible expression of concern.

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Lucas total kills: 7

Lucas total deaths: 11

Lucas total assists: 1

Lucas current GDV: 12.21

Lucas's fame level: 4.50* (Beyond just local, viral meme tier. Local levels are extremely high.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.5* (More than just passing suspicion for some paranoid individuals, people are realizing he's an impulsive idiot)

Jonathan total kills: 6

Jonathan total deaths: 2

Jonathan current GDV: 3.81 (+.01 net change)

Jonathan's fame level: 2.75* (Mostly just local)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.75* (A few paranoid individuals are suspicious)

Willy's fame level: 1.5* (Anonymous meme fame, local fame primarily as 'Xenoclast's dog', but some strangers know him as William/Willy now)

Supervillain social circle size: 11

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Little character theater:

Jonathan, further alarmed by how dismissive the other two sisters are being about Miss Chievious's obvious poor choice of actions: Sh-shouldn't… Shouldn't we stop her?

Willy has managed to block a marble that had gone astray with his snoot, shoving it back and doing a far more controlled impact than Lucas has been doing: Bark!

Lucas, stopping to applaud Willy's pro marble skills: Great shot, buddy!

427 is currently having a conversation with 011, asking for updates but refusing to actually reconnect with Lucas.

Author, covering their face with both hands, shaking with laughter: They! Are! All! So! Dumb!

Mr. Quacks, carefully balanced on Miss Calculated's shoulder and reading over her list, contemplating making suggestions: Quack...?