The beat hits heavy.
๐ต โProtect ya neck kidโฆโ
A low hum of magnetic clamps stabilizing a floating chassis forms the undercurrent to Wu-Tang Clanโs โProtect Ya Neckโ, blasting from a sleek speaker embedded in the wallโone of Michaelโs first audio upgrades,
A black cat? That tracks. Heโd run probability simulations but heโs positive heโd get the same result.
Apparently being emotionally stable, morally responsible, and able to build a gravity lens in his garage isnโt what the people are looking for. Go figure.
even on a dating app, thereโs no luck. maybe she should blame it on the black cat she copied a few weeks back, that feels like the only thing that makes sense. was he having just as much trouble ? the universe can be cruel like that.
The beat hits heavy.
๐ต โProtect ya neck kidโฆโ
A low hum of magnetic clamps stabilizing a floating chassis forms the undercurrent to Wu-Tang Clanโs โProtect Ya Neckโ, blasting from a sleek speaker embedded in the wallโone of Michaelโs first audio upgrades,
The beat hits heavy.
๐ต โProtect ya neck kidโฆโ
A low hum of magnetic clamps stabilizing a floating chassis forms the undercurrent to Wu-Tang Clanโs โProtect Ya Neckโ, blasting from a sleek speaker embedded in the wallโone of Michaelโs first audio upgrades,
Terrific doesnโt flinch when the sparks hit his goggles.
Heโs shirtless, muscles taut with the stillness of focus. His T-mask glows faint, scrolling data across his retinas as his gloved fingers tap across a workbench keyboard with surgical rhythm.
โ โ โ โ โ โ
mouthful of white hot fire, tongue coated
in poison, ragged nails painted in my own
blood; thereโs a hunger in me, something
vicious, a thirst to be celestial, GODLY,
divineโ and yetโ โ โง โ โ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฆ๐ต . . .
โ โ โ
A beat of silence, then. โWhich means either I need to update my security protocolsโฆ or youโve found something I havenโt.โ
A long pause.
โThat doesnโt happen often.โ
โI noticed.โ
His voice is even, dry, less impressed, more noted. He doesnโt need to raise his tone; the weight of knowing tends to be enough.
โYou should know, this lab has a biometric lock, a chronometric seal, and three quantum alert points. None of them triggered.โ
โLast time we did drinks, you stole the jukebox and rewired it to play only 80s punk. Took three hours to get it to stop screaming.โ
The corner of his mouth twitches upward again โ more smirk this time.
Mr. Terrific doesnโt look up right away. The click-clack of the keys keeps its rhythm, precise and deliberate, but his mind stumbles โ not on the data, but on her. Her voice. That familiarity.
Tapping her fingers across the table....
Veeeery, very long night at the JSA building, absolutely nothing is happening besides the click-clack of keyboards, and some research happening.
"...Sooo, @ATerrificHero...
Waaaanna go get some drinks, or?"
โYou saying that because youโre bored, or because youโre actually offering?โ he says dryly, lips pulling into the ghost of a smile.
One of his T-Spheres floats quietly past, casting a subtle glow across the research table. But itโs not scanning anymore. Justโฆ hovering.