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[arsiento]

[ The feed turns on shakily and abruptly, showing at first a view of mostly sky, but then it catches more blurry glimpses of scenery -- what might be recognizable as downtown Nonah, if someone were to squint or was just very familiar with the area by now -- as it moves again, as if being wrestled from someone. Voices can be heard above the fainter sounds of traffic, although there's the steady pulse of a nearby car stereo playing loudly and, occasionally, an engine revving.

Then the communicator steadies, being held at its owner's side; the camera now gives an un-aimed view the street, though at a somewhat diagonal, catching about half of the car in question in the shot. A guy's voice, about a foot away, says: "--the sickest shit I ever seen, man! Orale, show the guy, Angie!" And then the communicator moves again, the man holding it taking a step back as Angie breathes fire about five feet into the air. Only the fire and not Angie herself is visible on the screen, although within moments the speaker is stepping close again.

"You see that? It's legit, right? Just one selfie, man! Just one, come on!" ]

Then what, you'll finally beat it? [ Diablo's not speaking into the communicator, obviously, so his voice is muted, though still audible. ] I got nothing to say about no heroes, kid. Whatever you want? It ain't got nothing to do with me.

[ "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Damn, why you got to be such a bummer, dude?" The communicator raises again, rotating around to show two people: #1, a heavily tattooed man in a letterman-style jacket, "Diablo" embroidered on it like a nametag, looking impatiently at #2, who appears to be a teenager with slicked back hair ("AA" shaved into the sides), a lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, and large mirrored sunglasses. ]

Okay, how--

[ But, smiling delightedly, the boy waves into the camera, declaring: "Heeeey, imPorts! Que onda, stay crazy, guys -- we still believe in you! We got your backs now, so take it easy! Ride or die, man!" before he laughs and runs out of frame to join his off-screen friends; the car motor revs again. Diablo, still holding the communicator, does nothing for a moment except flick his eyes irritably and skeptically in that direction, then turns the camera around to capture the kids driving away. The car's plate reads "DOUBLE A". ]

Man, the hell was that. [ And now the camera once again rotates, his skeptical gaze gracing the screen. ] If that's what you all got around here, then no wonder they be importing in heroes like furniture.

[ Well... "heroes," as the still-dubious expression on his face may go on to suggest. He shrugs, then shakes his head. ]

But hey, y'know-- it's whatever. Anyone know where's a good shoe place around here?

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

They're not for walking, they're for looking dashing in, and -- What is it to you, anyway? This footwear fixation is out of hand.

[arsiento]

If you don't want no one knowing you paid for shoes you can't walk in, should've just answered my question normal, then. How hard is that, man?

[slightlyoffchilt]

How hard? Well it is certainly below my pay grade.

[arsiento]

Yeah, I bet. You like to sound like you a big man, huh?

[slightlyoffchilt]

My professional and financial stature intimidates some, sure.

[arsiento]

[ Thank god he wasn't drinking something just then. ]

Who'd be intimidated by you?

[slightlyoffchilt]

[A hard stare.]

Historically, my patients. But only the criminally insane ones.

[arsiento]

[ He bristles, almost imperceptibly. ]

They gotta also respect you, man -- even if it's just a little bit. Without that, it's only fear.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Mm, well. Carrot or crop, as long as the mule yields.

[arsiento]

Yeah? Where you work, a prison?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Why? Familiar with the technique?

[arsiento]

You said you got criminals for patients, so-- it just a question, you know? [ A pause, then: ] Not really.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Most people don't focus on that detail. In fact -- those who do are projecting. Historically.

[arsiento]

Oh yeah, man? How you figure? I ain't say nothing that wasn't true.

[slightlyoffchilt]

It is just experience talking.

[arsiento]

Okay. Let's hear it, then -- what you think I'm projecting?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Incarceration experience.

[arsiento]

[ A pause, and then a shrug. ]

I ain't hiding it.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Interesting.]

What did you say your powers were, again?

[arsiento]

I didn't. [ But: ] It's the devil's power -- fire.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Like -- pyrotelekinesis? Control over fire?

[He'll let the devil thing slide without comment.]

[arsiento]

[ That sounds like a made-up word. ]

Like that, yeah.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Hm. An explosive ability, no doubt. The sort of thing that cannot be removed from your emotions... How confident are you, in controlling your ability?

[arsiento]

[ He stares flatly into the camera. ]

Ain't nothing you gotta worry about. I'm handling it.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Are you, though? Because I have absolutely no doubt that people in your... Position, with what we already know about your history, well. No shame in extending a hand for a little help, is there?