Dexter Grif (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whyarewehere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2016-07-09 10:58 am
whyarewehere) wrote in legionworld2016-07-09 10:58 am
Entry tags:
Cool Your Heels
Who| Grif and Brainiac 5. After Brainy's thread, open.
What| Screwing around on the beach (and additional consequences for Grif being a dick on the comms)
Where| Grif's section of the habitat deck (it's a beach)
When| Around the start of Brightest Day Plot
Warnings/Notes| Grif being forced to deal with things
Running on water? Actually not terrible. It had extremely narrow applications, but Grif could do it. He'd been coming down here to his section of the habitat deck in his spare time to work on it, and was now used to navigating the artificial waves and keeping his balance. It wasn't training. Sure he may have been practicing, sure he may have been improving, but it wasn't training, it was just fun and therefore nobody could criticize him.
There was a satisfaction in doing the speed thing. (It would always be "doing the speed thing", because trying to name it would be embarrassing.) It was easier now, it took less out of him, and he could sustain it for longer these days. It was nice to step out of the normal bounds of being human for a few seconds at a time. Things just felt more manageable at speed. In a world where events always seemed to be moving too fast, Grif could be faster.
He still couldn't overdo it, not for long, and it was time to stop. Grif came back up off the water, panting, uniform wet with spray, and decelerated to a controlled sprawl on his back in the sand. (He was getting better at stopping too, come to think of it. He hadn't faceplanted himself in a while.)
Grif lie with his arms behind his head, breathing hard, and for a few minutes he wasn't an alleged superhero in a galaxy full of weird awfulness with confusing, frustrating people who didn't get him. He was just Grif, lying somewhere warm and comfortable. And that was very okay.
What| Screwing around on the beach (and additional consequences for Grif being a dick on the comms)
Where| Grif's section of the habitat deck (it's a beach)
When| Around the start of Brightest Day Plot
Warnings/Notes| Grif being forced to deal with things
Running on water? Actually not terrible. It had extremely narrow applications, but Grif could do it. He'd been coming down here to his section of the habitat deck in his spare time to work on it, and was now used to navigating the artificial waves and keeping his balance. It wasn't training. Sure he may have been practicing, sure he may have been improving, but it wasn't training, it was just fun and therefore nobody could criticize him.
There was a satisfaction in doing the speed thing. (It would always be "doing the speed thing", because trying to name it would be embarrassing.) It was easier now, it took less out of him, and he could sustain it for longer these days. It was nice to step out of the normal bounds of being human for a few seconds at a time. Things just felt more manageable at speed. In a world where events always seemed to be moving too fast, Grif could be faster.
He still couldn't overdo it, not for long, and it was time to stop. Grif came back up off the water, panting, uniform wet with spray, and decelerated to a controlled sprawl on his back in the sand. (He was getting better at stopping too, come to think of it. He hadn't faceplanted himself in a while.)
Grif lie with his arms behind his head, breathing hard, and for a few minutes he wasn't an alleged superhero in a galaxy full of weird awfulness with confusing, frustrating people who didn't get him. He was just Grif, lying somewhere warm and comfortable. And that was very okay.
no subject
Finally, she exploded back to "life" again.
"Up where they walk," she sang, opening her eyes and holding up her hands. "Up where they run. Up where they stay all day in the suuuuun..."
no subject
"Jesus Christ!" he yelled, scrambling backward. It took a split second for Grif's suddenly wounded dignity to arrive on the scene and all he could manage afterward was: "Don't do that!"
It was going to take him even longer to catch up to the fact that was a freaking Disney song. He was too busy being upset about getting tricked into believing in something as stupid as space mermaids for all of five seconds.
no subject
"Don't do what? Make you actually believe you killed a space mermaid and sing Disney songs?" She shook her head. "Of course I won't. There's no way I could convince someone to buy that twice."
She sounded almost as if she was insulted by him assuming she'd try the same trick more than once.
"I'm surprised I got someone to buy that once."
no subject
"I've seen some really stupid crap. I can't afford to rule things out."
He scowled at her like this joke was some incredibly low blow.
no subject
"And I once almost got assassinated by the Stingray Mafia. The ridiculousness of there being a Stingray Mafia and them having a hit on me still didn't lead to me getting my sense of humor surgically removed."
It was just a joke, etc. etc. Come on, Grif, you've heard it all before. If you can't stand the heat...
"But I appreciate your serious concern for my mermaid people."
no subject
"So who are you really?" he asked, hoping to move past the part of the conversation where they talked about how dumb and gullible he was.
"And what can you do?"
Because even in embarrassing social interactions, Grif was still all up in everyone's business about whether or not their superpowers were cool.
no subject
She held out a hand, making a 'gimme' gesture.
"And I'll tell you what I can do if you give me a dollar." She elaborated, "Like a space dollar. I want to see what they use for money. It's the future, so I'm thinking crystals or shells or holograms or something."
Credit cubes? Laser beams? She was curious.
no subject
"And even if I give you a space dollar," because he was just going to roll with calling them space dollars, "I'm gonna want it back then before I tell you anything about me."
He stopped himself with a wave of his hand. "Actually no, too late, now it's two space dollars."
He might as well turn a profit on that, right?
no subject
She held out her hand in a gimme gesture again.
"Space dollar. If you want to find out stuff, anyway. Then I'll find a way to give two space dollars back."
no subject
"They're not all that exciting," he added, back onto space dollars. "I mean, they could've had lasers for currency. That would've been cool. Instead it's just credit transfers and shit."
no subject
She stuck out her tongue.
"Goddamn, that's boring. Credit transfers. It should come in cubes. Future stuff always seems more future-ey in cube form."
She mimed a little cube with her fingers and looked over at Grif with a sly expression.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured out my deal yet. It's pretty obvious." She finally caved and explained. "Just 'cause I come from a weird, little magical world doesn't mean I was born there. I was born on Earth -- an Earth, anyway. A perfectly normal, average Earth with normal non-hover cars and reality TV. Then I hopped on over to an alternate Earth, got me this --"
She tugged at her collar to show him the strange necklace melded to her neck.
"-- which gives me precognition. And I had adventures and whatnot. As one does in alternate Earths."
no subject
He began a list, counting them off on his fingers. "I mean, we got your superheroes. We got your people who learned to fly because everyone can do that. We got your kid with a dragon. We got your huge dude with power armor. We got your dude who dies and comes back. We got your talking animals in three flavors and then a bonus turtle guy."
"In the grand scheme of things, somebody who did the whole Neverending Story thing isn't all that weird?"
He shrugged.