Realistic or Modern The padawan and the superhero

[NiceKid]

And so it begins.

 

[Toacho]

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A soft morning glow was set across the city as the sun began to rise, still just dim enough to hide away most of the buildings and alleys in darkness. In this darkness, a couple of small shadows skittered across the pavement, one of them knocking a few droplets of water to the side from the puddle it had darted through. Hissing lightly, it sped up before pouncing on the second shadow, it returning a loud and threatening howl of a mewl before skidding off while the other recoiled from the sharp noise. It began to prepare itself to take off towards the first shadow, tail swinging gently through the air, before a soft patter sounded behind it and it turned its head to the noise -- slit eyes watching the darkness intently before finally resting on the larger figure crouching in the shadow. The cat gave a soft meow of curiosity but did not approach the figure.

The cat watched it for a moment wearily before the figure lifted a hand out from its seemingly cloaked form, the off-whites of its bandage contrasting against the darkness of the surroundings. The whites of its eyes peering through the bandaged mask only served to make it all the more unsettling in appearance when one compared the darkness of its pupils. Softly, the figure made a soft noise, much akin to a gentle clicking before hesitating. "Here, kitty, kitty." It whispered softly.

The cat hissed, arching its back and turning talk before sprinting off to its playful companion, leaving the figure behind in the shadows.

It remained in place for a few moments before giving a soft sigh. "Damn," it hummed before straightening its back and lowering its arm. "Every time." He mumbled before lightly kicking a discarded can beside him and turning his gaze around the alleyway.

Most night patrols were like this. Quiet, somber, little more than the alley cats and the occasional street kids chattering away from below the rooftops to ease his boredom. Of course, it was pleasant in comparison to the times when it was not so serene. An attempted bank robbery. An escaped villain. A sludge monster or wizard with quips and one liners cheesy enough to put Father Piero's dad jokes to shame. Sometimes he just wanted to kick them in the mouth every time they started rambling about how they were going to finally defeat him or how there were no gaps in there plans -- specially hint -- there's always gaps in their plans. Still, he'd humor them every time. Listen to them rant while he slipped a paperclip or bobby pin into whatever they decided to bind him with before breaking out and actually getting to kick them in the mouth. Hey! It's not like they didn't have it coming.

But tonight? Tonight was one of the dull nights. Enough so that he almost wished a villain would strike. Alas, that would not be happening today.

Morning was already beginning to rise.

He looked up briefly to select a point before striking his waist, a thin wire hitting one of the buildings before beginning to quickly tighten, sling-shotting him up into the sky and beginning to retract, the hero quickly selecting another point on the far edge of another building and striking a button on his waist again, it pulling him down towards the building. He tucked himself into a roll as he went for the landing, feeling a slight jolt in his ankle from the impact. He mentally cursed himself but completed the endeavor, coming to a stop and then pulling himself back into a standing position and dusting himself off. He looked across the city line before letting his gaze fall on the sun peering over the edge of the buildings. He stared at it for a few moments before walking to the edge of the building and resting his arms on the ledge, watching the sun rise for a few minutes before sighing.

"All in the days work, I guess." He hummed, disappointed at the lack of activity over the night. He looked around the rooftop before spotting the small shed-like structure at one of the sides. He approached it and opened the door, letting his eyes fall on the bright red backpack sitting leaning against the wall. Just beside it, a single crutch lay resting against the corner of the room. He pulled it out and began to fish through it before retrieving his old clothes -- a simple and slightly bulky jacket along with the more nicely designed school-uniform styled clothes. Closing the door behind him, he changed into his clothes.

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As he left, he slung the backpack over his shoulder, the gear weighing him down slightly, and grabbed the crutch that he would tuck under his other arm.

He found his way through the building, navigating the hallways of the old apartment complex and listening to the quiet morning sounds. A baby crying some parents awake in one room. A few alarm clocks going off to send students to their classes. He could hear some laughing from one room. Some arguing from another. All typical noises.

He reached the final floor and briefly waved to the elderly woman sitting at the front counter, her giving a polite wave back. "Have a good day, Miles." She said sweetly.

"Thank you, you too ma'am." The door dinged softly as he left.

He couldn't remember the schedule, but he was pretty sure he would be checking in with her the next few nightshifts too. It's not like she was a bad station -- the contrary. She was sweet and intelligent, quick to make up excuses if any of the strange children that seemed to show up randomly were to ever run into trouble nearby. Of course, that's not quite difficult when one has an ability for deception like her. He just liked her station because of how close to the center of the city it was; completely surrounded by giant buildings to maximize his tools with.

It had taken him a little while to change and descend all the stairs, as noted by how bright is was by the time Miles had arrived outside -- squinting slightly in the morning light as he began dragging himself down the street, only a few people stirring this early. Miles appreciated that fact. It's always harder to navigate the trains when he can barely swing his crutch out a a foot in front of him from all the people.

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[NiceKid]

It was an accident! He never intended for that! But it happened. He had crashed, and he had no idea where he was. He didn't even had a clue in what solar system he was, considering the sensors were the first to go when he hit an ion storm or something. Regardless. At the very least, he was alive and well, and he had that to thank for. He managed to land in a dense forest, providing some shielding, that hid the fighter. And, every control was dead. He tried to re-initialize the systems, but he had no luck whatsoever. When he looked at the fuel reserves, it was empty. "Impossible", he muttered, and he left the fighter to check it out.

His space fighter was damaged, the fuel tank had ruptured, and the fuel that had left just vanished, just like that: leaked towards the ground, and there were no way to recover it. He sighed, looking at it. There were also minor problems in the power core, and other systems, in which he would need to fix. At least he took consolation from the fact, that nothing important was damaged. If this place was civilized, the fuel was common and all he needed to go was to arrange more. Furthermore, the spare parts could be arranged as well, with simple machining if he had to. One thing was clear to him, he was stuck, unless he could fix everything and find more fuel. He couldn't even call for help: to send a message this far it was required the reactor to be fully operational, and, it was not. And even it if were working nicely, there were no fuel anyway, and thus no way to generate usable electric power.

Before crashing down the emergency landing, it was detected some sign of civilization at some distance from there, several kilometers, several miles. He had no choice. The boy hid his lightsaber beneath his padawan uniform, discrete dark-yellow long sleeve shirt, and pants, of the same color, which now were a little bit burned, and dirty due to the crash rough landing. Shoes as well, a bit darker, but around the same color. He took off his gloves, because, he kinda disliked them, and stored them back in the ship. He took a pocket computer, and stored in his pockets, and he was ready to go! He hesitated a bit, looking behind at his ship. It was best that no one knew about it, or some junk yard owner could quickly dismantle it and sell it, and then he would have no easy way to get back.

He breathed the fresh air the forest offered as the sun was rising, and he took a few fruits along the way, feeding himself. A river? Well, excellent opportunity to drink some water, especially because it was clean. He didn't know about it, but he crashed inside the Delaware national park, a big area which was under preservation, close to the New York metropolitan region, well, 88 Km (55 miles), a total of 18hrs of walking. Needless to say, upon arriving at the city, at night, he was so tired, that he just slept in a square, lied down in a bench. It was cold.

He woke up, still in the night, by the alarm clock from the pocket computer. It was a phone-like device, except, it was much better: it could take measurements, scan things, and perform computations for him. It was a really useful tool, especially now. Well. Civilization! There he was! And all he had to do, was to find fuel. But first, he really wanted a shower. After asking around, he found out there were public places one could privately have a shower scattered across the city. He went to the nearest, and had a shower, and, he also washed his clothes there. There were no way to dry them, so he just waited a bit, and wore it off again, even if it was a bit wet. And his journey began, across an unknown city: New York. It was a calm place, just the way he liked it. Not many people in the streets, not much noise, except perhaps an occasional transportation vehicle passing by.

Calm place?!? He was mistaken. As the sun started to rise, noise, cars, the streets literally flooded with people, especially considering how close he was from the finantial district. Well, he was at the center of the city already. Shops were opening, business were opening of all kinds, and the city was huge, with tall building at every direction. Well. If he were to find the so needed fuel, he was in the right place. There had to be a shop around here, that had the fuel he required. But the place was so huge, how was he supposed to find out? By the way, he was also so hungry. Oh, and this boy was finding that crowded already? Just wait a few hours. It would get worse. He even had the idea to check one of the car fuel stations, but, the fuel is told was methanol, alcohol, and organic like chemicals - not what he was looking for.

The sun rising, the wind, and all the activity, helped to dry his uniform. Because of his uniform, however, he was receiving uncomfortable unnecessary attention higher than normal, as people looked at him, as he passed by, before going to do their actual business. He tried to ignore the fact, as he kept walking, looking around, and trying to find a shop, or anything, that could be potentially selling what he wanted. But no luck so far. He had to ask.

He stopped, looking around, checking where everyone was going, and change his strategy, following the mass of people, soon finding their destination: a transport station, similar to a Metro, train, or something alike. He didn't get inside, he just stared at it, sighing. This place was definitely huge, yeah. And he had no time to explore everything by his own. He looked around, and Miles was coming at his direction. He once again tried to ignore the fact that his clothes were not alike what everyone was wearing, and decided to go towards Miles.

"Hi. Um. Excuse me. Sorry to bother you", he began, speaking with Miles, or, with the random person that he found.
"I am looking to buy deuterium oxide. Can you please help me and point me a direction?", he asked Miles, innocently, just like that. Really, the thing was so common, it had to have a sale somewhere.
"Any deuterated enriched substance is fine actually", he pointed out, just in case there weren't the specific deuterium oxide, even if it was the most common one.
"Also, do you happen to know of a place which gives food for free?", he asked. Well, he had a shower for free, it only made sense to have food for free as well, and he was just unlucky to find it.

The teenager then looked at Miles, waiting for a positive reply.

 

[Toacho]

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As Miles limped towards the train station, he noticed the increase in the amount of people and did his best to shift through them, mumbling a short 'excuse me' with little thought when he had to push past a small group of fresh eyed and bushy tailed tourists. Why in the world would they want to visit here anyway? Still, with a soft sigh when they did not hear him and kept chattering away while looking at a map, he canted his body before pushing through the group, his nose scrunching slightly in distaste as he set his foot down on a rotting and half-eaten bun from a burger.

His eyes drifted around as he continued to walk and briefly, for just a second, was caught on a small bit of tan cloth right before it vanished behind another group of people. He looked for it for a few more seconds, the material being rather out of place for the area, but could not find it so he kept moving, letting his sight land back on where he was placing his steps in order to avoid anymore city-typical garbage. Perhaps it was nothing. A canvas bag. A strange coat. Something ordinary. He still couldn't help but be caught slightly off-guard by the figure. His time as a hero had caused him to constantly be on watch -- even at his tired and somewhat sleep-deprived state.

What he was not prepared for was to find himself stopped in his tracks by the strange figure only a few moments later just as he was approaching the train station, nearly walking straight over the other boy and feeling himself briefly jump in his skin as he looked up to see the boy. The boy gave a quick apology for bothering him, Miles' furrowing his brow and barely even noticing as he looked the boy up and down, taking particular notice of his strange wardrobe. It was surely not something that normal people wore here. He nearly missed the boy's entire question, his eyes only flickering up about halfway through the statement and recognizing that he was speaking to him.

Deuterium oxide? What in the world would this kid need with that? Miles was pretty sure he had heard about the compound at some point, but could not put his finger on what it actually meant. He was an engineer, not a chemist.

He stood there for a few seconds, just squinting at the other boy as he let his mind buffer and try to piece together any sort of explanation for this boy's oddness. School experiment maybe? Why wouldn't he just Google it like the rest of the sane population? Maybe he wasn't sane? "Huh?" He finally settled with asking, still squinting at the teenager. "I don't.." He trailed off, recognizing his pause before pulling together his composure. If this boy was insane, then Miles had to perform his duty first and foremost. "I don't know what you're talking about, but as for food," He said, recalling the brief final comment. "There's a food shelter down the street. Are you homeless or something?"

He knew that he would have gotten backhanded by Father Piero for that comment, but realistically, the former hero wasn't here. Besides, it's not like he was in his hero uniform. Like this, he was just another snobby kid roaming the street before school. He didn't have to be polite. "What are you wearing?" He asked, the second comment coming off similarly harsh -- this time unintentionally. He instinctively reached out and lightly touched the fabric, still furrowing his brow as he felt the rough texture. His eyes fell on the boy's singed pant legs. "Are you burned?" He asked as he looked back up and raised an eyebrow.

It was an odd situation and while he figured that it was likely best to not be as rude as he was, he also figured that it could be an easy way to analyze if this teenager was a threat. Most villains -- after all -- did not react well to criticism, and oh boy, Miles was certainly a big critic.

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[NiceKid]

He was indeed waiting a positive reply, but instead, no reply came. He was desperately trying to ignore the fact that, instead of answering his simple questions, this guy was continuously looking at him, up and down, as if the other one was seeing something completely out of the ordinary. Well. Maybe it was true. John kept waiting for the reply nonetheless, especially after Miles had done with the complete look and was now looking at John's face. Not even then an answer came! And when finally something came out, it was just a disappointing 'huh?'. Well, the boy didn't say anything and merely kept waiting for a useful reply of some sort.

He didn't what? How could he not know what was been talked about?! That was like the number one fuel if somebody required to achieve thermonuclear fusion with a certain degree of safety (along with neutron shielding). Boron rich compounds were also used for this goal, and perhaps that was an alternative for him, but, that was a bit less common (at least where he came from). He looked around.. there were a metro right there?! How it was powered? Steam? All that power had to come from somewhere! He knew that, for the look of it, this society seemed to be less advanced technologically than the average, but still! They were talking about a lot of power to maintain a city this size. Besides, even if an ordinary civilian wouldn't know the details or inner-workings, still, deuterium oxide was supposed to be pretty common! Like gasoline was pretty common there! He just seemed to be somewhat frustrated with the answer, especially because it wasn't even 'I dont know where to find it', no, instead it was: 'I dont know what you are talking about'.

At least something of useful came out of this. A food shelter. That was something. Homeless? Well, probably that was true. Maybe he would even need somewhere to stay if he wasn't able to find the fuel in that day.

What he was wearing? Tricky. This place had less technology than average, they could find the ship to be a milestone. He previously thought there would be junkyard owners wanting his ship, but no, the threat was much greater: governments were always seeking technology, and therefore, he had to do absolutely whatever it took to keep the ship hidden, and with that came his identity. So he had to come up with a reasonable excuse to justify the different clothes, or perhaps to acquire better clothes somewhere. Are there places that distributed clothes for free? He was thinking in what exactly to answer, when another question came.

If he was burned? He then looked at his own uniform, and yeah, there were burn marks, even if he had washed. A little wash would definitely not take the burn marks out. "Um.. no", he instinctively replied. What was he supposed to say then? He placed a hand on top of the most prominent burn mark, to hide it, and looked at the man. Then he gave up of that, and just lowered his hands. "It was an accident. That's all", he then replied. It was the truth, and it was purposely vague, and he wouldn't elaborate on that.

John was still very surprised about the lack of knowledge on the fuel..
"How can...-", but he interrupted himself. He was going to ask how that guy didn't know about deuterium oxide? Really? But, he decided it was better to avoid any kind of exposure. If he were to ask that, well, he would be revealing information about himself, even if it was just a little bit, and as was mentioned, he had to avoid it.

"Um.. Sorry", he apologized for the interrupted question.
"Anyway. Thanks. I'll go check the.....", how did that guy called it anyway?
".... food shelter", he suddenly remembered, and then nodded his head, indicating he was grateful for the directions.
"Thanks very much", he completed.

And with that, he just began to walk away, towards the direction of the food shelter. He'd stop if Miles called him or stopped him, or anything. But if not, he wouldn't look back.