"Which one of the 'stans' are we in?" Max shouts at Cody over the sharp reports of automatic gunfire. "Uzbek? Tajik? I miss Kyrgyzstan. They didn't shoot at us in Kyrgyzstan."

Grinning, he flexes his metal hand and it begins reforming into a familiar blade. Halfway through the transition, the sun seems to abruptly and completely wink out.

No longer magnetically attached, the misshapen lump of steel falls free from Max's body and plops to the ground. "Uhhhh…" he says, glancing at Cody.

It's almost like a tennis game. When one volley of gunfire comes from the other side, it's answered by the blonde at Max's side. Well, used to be blonde.

When the lump of metal lands at her feet, she looks down, only to watch as large clumps of braided hair fall heavily on top of it. For the first time since her power manifested itself, Cody is ashamed. The rifle is slung over her shoulder and she ducks down behind the stack of crates they'd been using as cover.

"Don't look at me! Don't— Just— don't look at me."

Of the many fine restaurants in city, he chose to have her meet him there. With a sneer, Vasha follows the host through the crowded room as she surveys the low lives who regularly visit the place. Even worse, those that come here as a 'treat' to themselves.

"A house of waffles," she complains as she takes her seat in the cramped yellow and brown booth. "Everyone who is anyone knows that crepes are the superior breakfast food." She garners a few raised eyebrows as she voices her complaints to absolutely no one.

Though the sky grows dark outside, the lights inside the tiny Waffle House keep her space lit.


The complaints are cut off mid thought as her head hits the table and the soft breaths of one who never sleeps stares at the back of her eyelids.

"Hey… Hey. Wake up!" Porter is at Vasha's side in a flash. He gives her a brisk shake, but receives no response. "Great," he mutters as he eyes her sleeping form. Then, resignedly, he picks her up and slings her over his shoulder.

"Nnnng," he grunts as he staggers toward the door with many curious eyes on him. Them. Whatever.

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