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[COLOR=AF7AC5][indent][sub][B]Location:[/B] [COLOR=white][I]Navapo, New Mexico[/I][/COLOR][/sub][sup][right][b]Seeing [color=228B22]Green[/color] – 1.04[/b][/right][/sup][/indent][/color][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][color=AF7AC5][sub][B]Interaction(s):[/B] [COLOR=white][I]None[/I][/COLOR][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][b]Previously:[/b] [COLOR=white][I][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4968627]1.03[/url][/I][/COLOR][/right][/SUP][/color][/INDENT]
[indent]Showered in dim light from the TV, the monitor display captured from the nearby laptop through a cable, Bruce leaned back on the couch, footrest extended. Wireless keyboard and mouse at work, Bruce occasionally glanced at the window, the continuous barking continuing to drive him up the wall.

Rubbing his eyes, he continued to strain them as he worked on the promised time tables. Sadly he hadn’t found any other pair of glasses, leaving him stuck with slightly blurred vision until he could get his eyes checked. This also meant he didn’t feel comfortable driving, so he’d be carpooling with Rick. Mind straying away, Bruce revisited that day before he knew it, soul weighted with a sense of guilt he still didn’t know where else to aim. Every breath matched by a pulse of his heart, Bruce nearly gasped out when he came to, from the sound of the door opening. Calming down as he saw Betty come in, he set his laptop aside, getting to his feet. Heat from outside following her until she kept it at bay with the closing of the door, Betty shot Bruce a look. [color=F1948A]“Don’t get up.”[/color]

[color=AF7AC5]“I’m feeling better,”[/color] Bruce insisted. Even as he said that, his steps were still ginger as he walked past Betty to the kitchen counter. It wasn’t a lie: Bruce was recovering quicker than he thought it would take. His burnt skin was already nearly peeled away, and many of his cuts and scrapes were closed up already, even if the skin was still raw. Bruce had always been the cautious, quiet type, not prone to really getting hurt, so he didn’t really have much frame of reference. Mostly he was just glad he would be back in fighting shape in a few days: for the rest he just tried to be cool. As she went to the bedroom to get into something more casual, Bruce asked, [color=AF7AC5]“Want some cereal?”[/color]

A few minutes later, the two sat on the couch, both in light, comfy clothing, munching on Grape Nuts in soy milk, Bruce leaning back while Betty took the mouse, bumbling around their bookmarks. As she meandered, Bruce began, [color=AF7AC5]“I’d ask how work was but usuall-”[/color] Betty’s head flopped backwards. [color=F1948A]“AuuuuuuuUUUUUGH.”[/color]

Scooping up another bite, Bruce nodded, continuing, [color=AF7AC5]”Yeah, that.”[/color] Despite her preemptive complaints, Betty’s hand was already working, pecking at the wireless keyboard, pulling up a video. Bruce caught the word ‘gold’ before Betty full screened it, letting it play, gripping her bowl in hand as she focused.

Full-screening the video, it started to play, Bruce witnessing shaky smartphone footage of the opening to a bank, in a large city from the looks of things (New York?). The ‘opening’ was in fact, a smoky black hole. The camera kept swapping between the entrance and something on the other side, but the movement made it too blurry to really make anything out, until the camera settled back on the entrance, where a figure emerged, clad In black armor, the onlooking crowd (many of them filming as well), going into a fearful buzz. There was a flash of blue and gold, with some shouts from the crowd as people scrambled, the phone clattering to the ground, things becoming hard to parse for a minute, Betyy skipping through with some keyboard commands. When things came to the camera showed the two battling, after some exchange of glowing weapons and tossed cars, the blue and gold hero called out that she was here to protect them, before one last clash ended the battle, the hero subduing the man in black armor. At this point Bruce was uneasy: nothing seemed wrong with it: the line was a little corny, maybe, but what was there to really be mad about? Then she began showboating and:

"But I can't do it without the power from Roxxon Energy, and the great taste of Vitamin Water!" 

Bruce felt his jaw drop in...awe? It was certainly a bold line in just how completely out of left field it was, even some in the crowd had been given pause. Beside him, Betty let out a low whine, the hero flying off and the video coming to a close, recommended videos popping up with more superhero antics and videos of elderly reacting to things. [color=AF7AC5]“Well that was...forced.”[/color]

Betty kept her eyes on him, expectantly, before letting out an exasperated, [color=F1948A]“If it was just corny and forced I’d just be lamenting the usual soulless capitalism, with them jumping on, really, the [i]worst[/i] trends. But of [i]course[/i] the one to jump on the hardest would be fucking Roxxon. They’re so blatantly trying to get more half-assed points with the progressive crowd, just like their limp dicked foray into solar, but this is just...ugh, I feel gross. I’ve always hated the precedent of corporations stepping in where the federal systems fail, but people are legitimately going to overlook a lot of [i]bullshit[/i] because of a few unrobbed banks. And the fact that it’s a superhero. I mean she’s doing good, well, as much good as any of them bother to do, I’ll say that but...AAAAA.”[/color] Betty’s strangled cry cutting short, Bruce just let the storm blow through as always, nodding at appropriate times, but not having much to add nor the courage to ask for elaboration, even though he imagined Betty would be considerate with it. His bites of cereal even came slower: she’d never snapped at him for not paying attention, but it’d still be rude if she thought he was…

[color=F1948A]“It’s like so many of my least favorite things in one: Roxxon, forced marketing, and this stupid vigilante and meta craze. I don’t [i]hate[/i] metas or anything, but-”[/color] And times like this Bruce kept his mouth full. At her most fervent she wouldn’t notice Bruce having to keep his head down to weather the storm. [color=F1948A]“-they are dangerous! I think it’s fair to say they need to be monitored or watched in some way.”[/color] Bruce just let the storm blow until it would peter out. She always did eventually, though this time maybe a bit more forceful than was typical. Even if the feelings in his gut sometimes churned the wrong way in response to her words, he still couldn’t help but to admire her passion, the woman blazing through so many topics: climate change, corporate interests and democratic systems, superhero exploits, metahuman rights: she might not have stopped if it hadn’t been for Bruce’s reaction after she brought up the volatility of mutants unaware of their powers, and the drastic consequences that could happen when they discovered them.

The topic led Bruce’s mind back to the morning. Driving about Navapo, they found the shopping center Bruce’s pickup was stopped at. While it had been easy enough, they couldn’t help but linger on the ruined smoke shop nearby. Betty had looked up the incident to find out that a green coupe had crashed into it, something she readily dismissed, but Bruce...couldn’t.

Milk burning his sinuses, Bruce hacked out what he’d accidentally breathed in, setting his nearly emptied bowl aside as Betty stopped herself,  looking over him with concern as Bruce steadied himself. Cough still coming on, Bruce raised a hand, sputtering, [color=AF7AC5]“J-just went down...the wrong p-pipe.”[/color] As he tried to recover, Betty placed a hand on his back, Bruce mentally recoiling from touch, his back bending away slightly. Standing up, he coughed, [color=AF7AC5]“I’m fine.”[/color] As he finally went quiet, she nodded, finally cooled down, allowing the subject to shift over at long last.

Let her think that. As long as she believed it, Bruce didn’t have to think about whether it was true or not.[/indent]