Crenando
Pencil Neck Geek
Franklin sat in front of the courtroom. He'd been televised for most of his life, being the son of the world's greatest heroes, the Fantastic Four. Being an eight-year-old, though, he wasn't used to being filmed in front of a courtroom.
"Are you a mutant?" Mr. Murdock adjusted his fine red glasses.
"I'm a mutate. Dad says I got my powers from cosmic rays like him and Mom." The Richards boy scratched his face. "Everyone was convinced I was a mutant for years."
"Are you or were you ever a member of the X-Men?"
"Dad says I'm not old enough yet." The lad shrugged. "The teams I'm on work with then sometimes, especially the Power Pack. Everyone else on the team are honorary members."
"But you were the only one in the team that was considered a mutant?"
"Right."
The Legal Eagle stared at the boy. He looked like a lawyer from a bad political cartoon stuck onto the body of a green griffin. Still, it disturbed him, to the extent that any older person might. He certainly wasn't intimidating in the same way most supervillains were.
He was the more normal sort of creep that regular people had to deal with.
"You like insulting other people's appearances, kid? Does it make you feel big?" The metahuman burst upward with his stashed Kryptonian energy and grabbed onto the weird little gerbil fella's hand-stache. "You're on the wrong side of history."
The alien power surged through Parasite's body, tapering out above his lip and forming a sweet mustache of his own. It wasn't exactly a power unto itself, but as long as he was getting fed, he didn't care much.
He realized, then and there, the real power was knowledge.
"So you're not the simple-minded fool everyone (apparently) took you for!" The supervillain released his grip on his insectivore adversary. "Your swatch there is full of all kind of tasty powers. Too bad I can't touch the thing myself."