Mithril_Zeta

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“So Newton, what’d you do to get thrown in front of a judge to start with? And I gotta know what you said to him or her.”

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Newton chuckled. "Well, I was actually a witness for the state in a case of a Family tax evasion case. The judge's name is Richard [censored]. I'm pretty sure he's on the take. Apparently I was much to friendly with him in the courtroom. I kept on calling him [censored] - in the most unfriendly meaning possible." Newton looked up at the ceiling. "Then he had me arrested for contempt of court. I told him I didn't have contempt of court, just contempt of a real [censored]."

He sipped some more of his tea. "I guess I probably shouldn't have made his judicial robes float, though. How was I to know that he wasn't wearing pants under the robes." Newton grinned viscously. "It was caught on Court TV, of course."

"Essentially, I treat people with respect until they disrespect me. After that, all bets are off." Newton's tone was light, but there was a hint of steel in the chubby man's voice.

Newton looked quizzically at Coolant. "You were 'put' in this can?" The mutant then looked at the container. "Okay, the caffeine is kicking in. What is that thing?"

"And the fact you haven't killed me yet is quite comforting. I'd miss me," Newton said, grinning at the insect-man. "Me, I'm a mutant. Born with green hair. At adolescence, started making myself float and the bullies stay still in their tracks." He sipped some of the hot tea. "Was in Seacouver during the Rikti War; it was a mess there, too. Came here because this is where the trouble is, and I love trouble. I'd say it was my middle name, but it's not. Unfortunately, it's Horace." Newton shuddered. "Gravity manipulation is my thing. I'm here at the two-six because I have a sense of humor and certain members of the judicial system take themselves way too seriously." Newton rolled his eyes with a certain amount disgust.

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“And a little warmth in here would help too. I tend toward cold-bloodedness when I sleep so even a little chill and it takes me a while to get going.”

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"I wish I had that excuse," Newton said, looking up at the tall, lean insect man. "I just hate mornings. The only reason they exist is to keep evening and afternoon from crashing into each other." Newton put his face back down in his hands.

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"Tea's on. And there's an important announcement about to be made in the lobby."

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Newton turned back over and stared after the mystic. He looked up at the ceiling and implored the powers that be what he had done to deserve an six o'clock wake-up call.

The universe was notorious for giving him a tough time. Why else would he have been born with green hair.

The chubby man stumbled up off the couch. He groggily wandered down the stairs, thumping every one with the natural grace and dexterity of a hippopotamus.

He reached the lobby, and sat rather abruptly on one of the chairs. "Please tell me you have coffee as well as tea..." Newton said as he put his head in hands. "Black coffee with extra caffeine for a 6:00am mission..."

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One small incantation on the stairwell and the tea was quite warm by the time he was pouring it. "Gentlemen, and those who prefer to be addressed by other titles, we appear to have our first mission, as if were. If everyone wouldn't mind gathering around, I'll fill you in on the details."

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“Just as long as coherence is not required, I’ll be fine,” the muffled voice of Newton’s Apple said from between his hands.

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"Kidding? No, that's not frowned upon. In case your wondering about eating people, what I don't see I can't report. Honestly I've tried arresting them but people tend to burn so quickly. I'm afraid I'm not very popular with the Freedom Phalanx and crew."

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"We do seem to be quite the popularity crew, don't we," Newton said as he pushed a floating soda machine across the room to the pile of bad furniture. "I can tell we're all going to be called over to Stateman's mansion for tea and crumpets quite soon."

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It was minutes later when

“Boss!” Sting shouted from a back room on the ground floor. “We got weaponry stored back here, what’dya want done with it?”

"What? Weaponry?" Mystic, one shoe off and in his stocking foot, came out of the bunk area. "Oh my. They must have missed... Well, I suppose, can you carry one of those big lockers into the bunk room? I hate to impose on you, but you're both much stronger than I, and Newton, could you make the task easier? I'd rather have any weapons in our main room, which is likely to be the bunk room until we can get to the rest of the building. This way we can keep the weapons locked up until we can take stock of them. Sting, would you mind inventorying them when you have the time? Or I could do it. It just doesn't seem like you get tired easily. Plus I wouldn't know a .38 from a .39"

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"One lighter than air gun locker coming up," Newton said, focusing his attention on the gun locker.

When Mystic finally went to bed, Newton rearranged the furniture up against the doors and windows to at least slow down anyone trying to enter the dilapidated building.

"Night, gents," the green-haired man said as he walked up the stairs. Bending gravity came easy to him, but after hours of constant use, he was exhausted. He found an open office with a couch that was still in pretty good condition, unrolled his sleeping bag, and collapsed on it.

((occ I'm assuming that since we're living there, he brought a duffle bag of clothing, a sleeping bag, and other necessities))

Early in the morning, Newton was woken up by the pounding of pipes. He groaned, rolled back over, and tried to go back to sleep.

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“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to shout, Apple was it? And poison? Oh, I suppose that would make this third gentleman the evil godmother or some such.

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Newton burst out laughing, eying the big man in the blue costume. ‘I wish I had seen that pattern,’ the chubby man thought. ((occ – lovely. I really wish I had seen that pattern. Brilliant))

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“I’m just someone sent here to pick up the pieces… like you. And I don’t expect you to follow me or take orders. Let’s just clean up a bit, if you wouldn’t mind helping, and hopefully, by nightfall, we’ll have a place to sleep. I saw a shower room upstairs that looks mostly intact.”

Mystic sighed a heavy sigh, took the papers from the table and stuck them into his robes. Then he walked around the table and tried to lift it from his end.

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Newton raised a hand and the table gradually became lighter, and Mystic was able to move it with ease. “Sounds fair to me,” he said. He pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up further on his arms and cracked his knuckles. “I don’t supposed we can just blow all this refuse outside, can we?” he sighed. He pointed at an area in the far corner of the room. All the garbage and trash floated up of the ground about four feet.

Newton grabbed a trash can – made it lighter, of course – and walked casually around the room, scooping litter out of the air as he went.

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“Yeah, the name’s Poison Sting, but you can just call me Sting. I was just condemned to this hellhole. And just so we don’t get off on the wrong foot, I don’t take @#%$ from anyone, so don’t go getting on my case.”

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‘Oh, this guys going to be fun,’ Newton thought, his grin widening. ’He seems to take himself much too seriously.’

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“Hello. Would you gentlemen be part of the area cleanup program, or are you just here to cause trouble?” he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, “Either way, it looks like I have a lot of work to do here.”

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At the sound of the menacing voice, Newton whirled and back-peddled, his hands spreading out towards Mystic and Sting. The air shimmered around them as waves of gravity bubbled around each of them. He moved quite quickly for being a bit overweight. “Always looking to cause trouble,” Newton said from behind Sting. “Keeps life interesting.”

Newton's Apple glanced quickly around as he entered the buildling. A large insect-like man was in the lobby ahead of him. Newton swallowed hard. ‘I was expecting cockroaches,’ he thought, ‘but I didn’t think they’d be quite so big…'

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The mage stood as strongly as he could, chin up and eyes darting across the two newcomers, scanning for any signs of hostile intentions. "Can I help you two?"

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“G’day,” Newton said, smiling brightly at the robed figure. “I’m Newton’s Apple. You must be Mystic Inferno, judging from the glowing runes and such. I’m reporting for duty; the lovely Judge [censored] decided that I needed to come and work with you for a while.” He reached into the pockets of his sweatshirt and pulled out an envelope. “Here you go.” The green-haired man handed it to the mage. “Don’t believe everything the judge says, especially the part about ‘little respect for authority’ and ‘not comprehending the chain of command.’”

Isaac Cutler checked the address again. This didn’t look right. The building was in terrible shape. It did have the precinct numbers on it…sort of. The two was cockeyed, and the six looked like it had been seared into the brick.

Isaac, or Newton’s Apple, was a chubby man with green hair pulled back into a ponytail and muttonchop mustache. He had a red sweatsuit with a green tree screened into it. He had decided long ago that if a helmet was a good idea for motorcyclists, it must be a good idea for superheroes.

He looked despondently at the decaying building. One too many practical jokes, Apple thought. They all said that it would get me in trouble. You’d think that a Judge named Richard [censored] would have a sense of humor, but no.

So, in contempt of court. Community service. The two-six. With a deep sigh, Newton’s Apple entered the crumbling brick building and went in search of Mystic Inferno, his new supervisor.

Maybe he had a sense of humor…

Okay, Prof, if you say so...

(of course the jaded English teacher in me is wondering how many people still know what an adjective is...)

:Connie: :Etch: :Zeppelin: :Odious: :Grovel: : DVD Burner: