Seth (
powerdealer) wrote in
bigapplesauce2014-09-28 02:01 am
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a thankless job but somebody's got to do it [closed]
Seth's not entirely sure how much he likes being called up as a newbie's guide to superpowers. Any recognition is still a bit too much for him, and he doesn't like meeting at a pre-determined time with someone he doesn't know. But Wilmot's End is just about the only place he feels is safe, neutral ground.
He'd actually showed up pretty early, thinking he might scout for other newbies with fresh powers they might like to get rid of, but he's felt far too anti-social to actually approach anyone. His anxiety's been kicking in, much earlier than he'd like. It's a worrying trend that he's trying very hard not to think about too much.
So he's sitting a little towards the back, nursing a drink and watching the door from his booth. Looking for anyone who looks a little lost and out of place, like they're searching for someone.
He'd actually showed up pretty early, thinking he might scout for other newbies with fresh powers they might like to get rid of, but he's felt far too anti-social to actually approach anyone. His anxiety's been kicking in, much earlier than he'd like. It's a worrying trend that he's trying very hard not to think about too much.
So he's sitting a little towards the back, nursing a drink and watching the door from his booth. Looking for anyone who looks a little lost and out of place, like they're searching for someone.
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"Well, hey," he says lightly. "I'm here now, right? And the plus side is, well, people who threaten to freeze your insides solid just don't scare you the way they used to."
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"Was he.." Seth assumes it's a he based on the name. He tries to think of how to describe the man Gabe had shown him. "Was he like, bit taller than you, short blond hair.. Late 40s or early 50s, strong brow...?" he asks. This would really be a lot easier if he had Gabe's power of illusion and could just show it.
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That takes him a minute. He sits, mouth open as he processes, torn between horrified realization and, ridiculously, fascination.
"Okay, so no wonder I didn't like him."
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Daniel's final comment makes Seth unexpectedly snort into his drink. No wonder indeed.
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He pales a little at that last part, not so much in regards to the dying as the unpleasantness the dying no doubt would have entailed.
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"You might want to just avoid him from now on," Seth suggests mildly. That is definitely Seth's strategy. He knows he wouldn't stand a chance, and he figures he's probably enough of a coward to follow through on this strategy. (Never mind the time he stopped a zombie apocalypse, or the time an alternate version of him apparently defeated the Nazis.)
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"Fine, but... At least figure out what you're up against first, and team up with the other people who have the same idea," he says finally. "Don't.. get your insides frozen." Just.. please, Daniel. Just don't.
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He drives his thumb into the bridge of nose in an attempt to ward away the seeds of a headache. The next beer is on its way and he can't remember how much it takes before his low tolerance starts working against him. Better slow down.
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Thankfully the new drinks finally arrive to provide a distraction. He knocks back the rest of his drink, then makes a noise of surprise and displeasure. Then he spits out a paperclip. And then he just stares at it for a moment.
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"Inconvenient, what'd I tell you? Gotta say, though," he struggles for a second with his second beer because motor functions are evidently already proving troublesome, "That one's a first."
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It's not spoken like a question but the question mark hovers there regardless.
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"They do know about me though, but at this point, with powers of my own and powerful friends, they probably figure I'd be more trouble than I'm worth," he answers. And he simply hasn't caused all that much trouble for them yet. Though that may change, of course.
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Seth has some form of protection by relation, and Daniel believes him.
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"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he admits, setting the bottle down with its contents half-gone. Right about now he's getting the tingling reminder of why he's a coffee-drinker and not so big on alcohol buzzing away in the back of his skull. Oh yeah, getting back to Lucy's is going to be fun. "I guess we've got the literal Devil wandering around so why draw the line there, right? Although," he pauses, musing aloud, "I did meet a Satan once. Though he...actually went by Sokar. And he wasn't so much the Devil as he was just making use to the title to spread fear and panic and..." And Daniel's trains of thought are getting worryingly difficult to micromanage. "We didn't get along," he finishes seriously.
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"Never met anyone pretending to be Satan, but I did meet someone pretending to be Jesus," he says, and takes another drink, realising he needs to put down alcohol a bit quicker to keep up with Daniel, if he's as light-weight as he seems. (Even though at that size, it doesn't seem like he should be.) "But, considering he got the power to walk on water from me, it wasn't all that impressive."
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Then he pauses, pleased at how the evolution of English slang and its juxtaposition with religious ideology could align to make that joke possible.
"Says a lot about the human brain and its fixation with the idea of a higher power." Daniel can feel the thoughts shifting away as quickly as they spring to mind so he goes even faster to compensate. "Most every culture will have at least some basis in religious standpoint, and it's quite amazing to see how easily that's translatable into real life. Not literally, mind you, but there's always that vagueness and ambiguity that comes with interpretation, and most people are able to bend an interpretation to their advantage and gain a following and -" His brow knits as he tries to remember what this had to do with Jesus. "And then there's performance of, of miracles and such and the walking on water, and. And." He makes a vaguely sinusoidal motion with one hand, as if that wraps up his point nicely, and takes another drink.
uhh sexual assault reference?
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