shatterverse | (no subject)

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Eden is looking pretty. Her sunburn is gone, she has makeup on, and is wearing a form-fitting copper dress with a silver belt. Her feet are bare - she'd rather go bare-foot than wear her sneakers or flip-flops. Eden has committed many crimes, but fashion crimes aren't one of them.

She's looking for an owner of a certain car ~~who's not Gabriel, because no, okay?~~. Is he by the pool? Is he in the bunker? Is he on the boat? Is he in the house? Eden will look.

Who does she find?

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He shrugs, stretching. He gets to about double his regular size, before letting himself snap back. "Think I'll find somewhere quieter for my next nap. Silly of me to get in the way, right?"

Eden can't stop herself from staring at that.

Thomas's comment prompts a small smile from Eden as she banishes her bewilderment. "I think we already established that I'm pro-underneath the bed."

He snorts, trying to hold back a chuckle. "So long as it's not a bucket, right? Had a girlfriend wanted me to do that. Or sleep in the bathtub." he tried that once after his first change. Woke up in the sewers somewhere.

"Wow, that's romantic," Eden teases.

"So - I'll make this quick, I just gotta ask - not everyone can do that where you're from?"

"She had this thing for screwing jokers, but not for loving them." He wriggles a hand, to indicate 'kind of' "Depends on if you get infected, and which way your card turns."

"Card?"

Well, so much for this being quick.

"Yeh, the Wild card-" He shakes his head. Great, another hick who never heard of it. "Let me guess, Wild Card Virus means nothing to you, right?"

Eden shakes her head. "Not a thing."

"Back in the late forties, directly after world war 2, an alien species came to Earth, right? Only, they had this virus, wanted to test it on humans, cause we were close to them. There's a kerfluffle with one of them not wanting to do it, but, end result, virus is released over manhattan." His fingers twitch on their own, as if trying to illustrate. "The Wild Card Virus. People get infected, and, like, out of every hundred who get hit, 90 die. Like, flat out, explode. Turn inside out, melt into solid materials, burst into flames, die in all sorts of wicked ways. Called Drawing the Black Queen. Of those remaining ten, one of them becomes a super powered Ace asshole. Liftin things, torching things, turnin' into elephants, that kinda thing. And the last nine, they go like me. Jokers. Deformed mutants."

"Wow."

That's a lot to absorb. Eden just stands and nods for a moment, then manages to look appropriately solemn.

"I'd say that's shitty luck about the deformity thing, but seems your luck could've been a lot worse."

"You're telling me." He holds out his right hand, and the fingers start to droop, stretching towards the ground without any will behind it. "When I first changed, and I started melting, I was sure I'd drawn the Queen."

Eden winces in sympathy.

"I can see why."

"But, I've gotten used to it." Drawing himself together. "Until, you know, this stuff."

"This stuff does take a while to get used to," Eden replies dryly.

"Probably better when you're not sleep-deprived, though. I shouldn't keep interrupting your nap like this."

"Thanks. I think I'll find a tree." As he peers around.

Eden begins to leave, then stops herself long enough to add, "Oh! My name's Eden. I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Thomas." and he bounces off.

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