Chapter 168 - Realizations, Redux

Once Mikah has ensured that the desk drawer is securely shut, he wheels his chair back a short distance, getting ready to stand up. However, rather than getting up, he stays in place, visibly lost in thought for a few moments before finally speaking up.

“You know… Isn’t it rather, hmm, fortunate, I suppose? That the bots decided to test out the climate system in advance, with enough time to report the results to us accordingly? That we were caught just in time to put in a request for the masks and everything, mere moments before heading up there ourselves? Sure, coincidences happen all the time, but if you don’t mind my asking, do you have any plans that involve Alley Cat anytime soon?” Once Mikah puts his thoughts into words, Lucas is momentarily thrown off by this non-sequitur.

‘Man, conspiracy theorists must have a ball with Lakshmi.’

Mikah cracks an amused smile, but he keeps up an expectant expression while he quietly awaits Lucas’s answer.

“Uhh… Yeah, actually. We’re supposed to meet up for the first time tomorrow, over lunch. But didn’t Mark an’ Mary get helped out too, followin’ that logic?” Upon Lucas giving an affirmative answer, Mikah gains an expression that clearly reads ‘I thought so’.

Jonathan recovers a bit from his depressive slouch, sitting upright and turning to look at Lucas, reaching over to tug on the edge of his nearest sleeve.

“Oh, but didn’t they, um, say that they’d probably see M-Mary tomorrow? For some paperwork?” When Jonathan adds this on, Mikah barks out a laugh, and Lucas is briefly stunned.

“Well, there you have it, then. At least one of you were probably going to fall ill if things had gone differently, I’d bet. Considering you’re going to be working in that dusty disaster for a while, I’d say you most likely were going to be the one hit the worst, Lucas.” Mikah nods a few times while saying this with a sagacious tone, every ounce of his body language conveying his utmost confidence in these assumptions.

“...That all still seems a bit much for a power from someone who’s not even nearby, though? But, whatever, that does at least remind me that I’m supposed to call ‘em and figure out where ta meet, and when, for tomorrow.” While Lucas stubbornly dismisses the theoretical cause and effects of the various recent coincidences, he pulls out his phone.

After unlocking, but before he even makes it into his contacts, his actions are disrupted by an incoming phone call from Miss Masher, which causes Mikah to burst out laughing.

“I guess it wasn’t good timing for them!” Mikah barely snorts these words out before managing to laugh even harder.

Jonathan can’t resist giggling a bit, as well.

Meanwhile, Lucas frowns at his phone for a few rings before finally accepting the call.

“Sup?” Lucas doesn’t make it very far into his greeting before Miss Masher starts yelling into her phone.

“HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO PICK FROM OUTTA SO MANY STYLES!? YOU SHOULDA AT LEAST NARROWED IT DOWN A LITTLE, SINCE IT’S YOUR MONEY, RIGHT!?” Miss Masher’s sheer volume causes Lucas to flinch and pull the phone away from his ear with her very first word, though he does at least still continue to hear her loud and clear throughout her entire interrogation, regardless of how far away he holds it from his head.

Opting not to tank it alone, he taps the button to change the call into speakerphone mode. Once she stops yelling, of course.

“Woah, woah, calm down, sheesh. I already said you can get whatever ones ya guys want, yeah? Why would I care which ones ya pick, you guys’ll be the ones wearin’ em, it’s more important that you like it, yeah?” One would think that Lucas would be aware that in all the history of calming people down, saying ‘calm down’ has never once proven useful, but alas.

“I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT THEM, ALL I SEE IS THE PRICE TAG!? WHAT THE FUCK!?” While Miss Masher is busy loudly having a breakdown, Miss Chievous’s giggling in the background is not comforting.

“Seriously, ANY one we want!?” Miss Chievous doesn’t even try to hide her roguish tone as she asks this, while also demonstrating that Miss Masher’s phone is similarly set to speaker mode.

“Oh come on, within fuckin’ reason, obviously! Don’t go tryin’ to convince the poor bot that some fuckin’ gold-plated mecha power-armor bullshit counts as a suit that I said I’d cover the costs on!” Lucas’s exasperated answer earns a delighted cackle from Miss Chievous, as she clearly was just fishing for a reaction, and not that it was even remotely a genuine question on her part.

Apart from a few snickers from Mikah and Jonathan, there is one notable result from this little exchange; Miss Masher has been pulled out of her tizzy.

“Okay, okay, fine. I get it, you really mean it. Seriously though, how the hell can we possibly pick though!? The catalog is huge, and tryin’ them on won’t help us any, since none of them will be close to the right size for either of us! Arg, I don’t even have it yet, and I already feel self-conscious about being all fancied up, too!” As Miss Masher continues her formal fashion crisis, Miss Chievous pipes in again before anyone on Lucas’s end of the phone call can work up a response.

“Hey! Since they’re gonna be tailor-made just for us we have to look good in them, right!? And it’s not like you’re gonna be dressing up by yourself, so it won’t stand out as much! ...Sorta!” Once Miss Chievous posits her view on the matter, Miss Masher’s inarticulate whine conveys her reluctance far better than any string of words she could piece together, earning quite a bit of laughter.

Once Lucas gets his laughter under control, he clears his throat and then finally makes a meaningful contribution to the conversation.

“Ya know, I figured ya woulda been all over it. A good ol’ classic all-black suit like some sorta secret service agent or some hotshot’s bodyguard or somethin’ is pretty badass, yeah? Oh! Ya gotta get a good pair of shades too! Wait, Mikah, can you guys do enhanced sunglasses? I uhh, kinda broke the pair I wore today. ...Did yours hold up, Jon?” Once Lucas’s attention is done wandering all over the place over the course of vocalizing that train of thought, Jonathan reaches into one of the inner pockets of his jacket with a wry smile.

Shortly after he pulls out… just one arm from the sunglasses he left the apartment with this morning, earning a snort of laughter from Lucas. He then proceeds to take out the other arm, as well as one of the lenses, as if to prove that at least he didn’t lose them.

While they’re laughing over the broken designer shades, Miss Masher has made a thoughtful hum over on the ladies’ side of the call.

Mikah similarly hummed for a moment, but he speaks up without much delay.

“I don’t see why not, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen clear protective goggles made out of at least partially enhanced materials before. I can really see why Jonathan would want them, too. I don’t want to imagine what it’s like getting a bug in your eye while zipping around at top speed. ...Your eyes probably dry out pretty quickly while you’re running around as well, I’d imagine?” In response to Mikah’s question at the end, Jonathan nods twice.

Through the phone, Miss Masher is making a drawn-out grumble that sounds borderline pained, but then she finally seems to give in.

“Okay, fine. You’re right, wearin’ a suit does sound pretty cool when you put it that way… There’s still so many to pick from, though...” Miss Masher seems to have gotten over most of her reluctance, there was even a trace of anticipation in her voice, at least up until that final, trailing-off sentence.

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Lucas total kills: 7

Lucas total deaths: 11

Lucas total assists: 1

Lucas current GDV: 17.30 (+.01 +.01 = +.02 net change)

Lucas's fame level: 5.0* (Already beginning to receive authentic global attention. His local levels are effectively maxed.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.5* (More than just passing suspicion for many paranoid individuals, numerous people have realized he's an impulsive idiot.)

Jonathan total kills: 7

Jonathan total deaths: 2

Jonathan current GDV: 5.99 (+.01 net change)

Jonathan's fame level: 2.75* (What fame he does have is predominantly local.)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 3.0* (More than just overly-paranoid people are suspicious at this point.)

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: 15

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Little character theater:

Jonathan, upon being satisfied that even the dense AF Lucas must understand that he genuinely didn’t lose his glasses, gathers all the shattered remnants again just to put them back in the same pocket, not wanting to just leave it lying on Mikah’s desk, and far too awkward to ask where his garbage pail is. It’s probably completely wrapped in memes at the moment, anyway.

Willy is amusing himself by gnawing on the mini Mind Flare chew toy while lying on the ground next to the service kiosk, right next to where Miss Masher and Miss Chievous are hovering around 11, as it shows them the EXTENSIVE array of available suit designs on one of the register terminals.

Lucas, nodding a few times, as if Miss Masher could somehow see him through the phone: Damn right, they’re pretty cool.

427, now perusing the digital catalog for MF’s as well: ‘Oh goodness. Of course, it makes sense that when making a custom piece, they’re willing to do it in more styles than what they have ready-made in-store, but… Wow. I’m a little surprised that the service bot didn’t show the extended options list to them when placing their order..? Wait, no. That makes sense, they largely stuck to more conservative styles, all this extra stuff is… eccentric.’

Author, wearing a pair of drinking straw glasses over their real glasses, drinking root beer out of a can with them during the pauses in their dialogue, all while casually leaning against the side of Mikah’s desk and directly facing the audience: This was one of those more apparent times as to why Miss Chievous acts the way she does; she knew it would help her sister cool it, at least just a little bit.

Mr.. Quacks, also wearing a pair of silly straw glasses, the same exact size as the pair that the author is using, sipping out of a can of root beer of his own: Quack.