Headline Two: The Mating Rituals of a Supervillain

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Kieran (Vast) Winters

When Vast next woke the faint sunlight coming through the window briefly confused him about the time, but then he remembered the previous night and then his body began to wake and promptly started in on the complaining. Sore muscles, hunger pains and oddly his arm burned. Pulling it out from under the pillow he found the place Toxic had grabbed him had darkened and gotten angry since he last looked at it.

Grumbling, Vast rolled out of bed, took a moment to locate his boxers and one of his shirts that were tucked away in the dresser before tugging them on. Then he looked around the room for his knife and came up empty. Scratching his head dumbfounded, Vast rolled back the last time he had it and cursed as he remembered tossing it at the hero. He sighed in defeat, the hero would have no doubt taken it for evidence, it'd be locked away in some police evidence locker.

Vast grumbled in annoyance at the loss of a beloved item as he left the room. He found Clover and Narcissa in the kitchen, both enjoying steaming mugs of pungent coffee. The mildly cheery atmosphere of the space was created with the yellowed tiles of the floor and backsplashes along with barn animals on anything that could have one on it. The apron that hung by the fridge had chickens on it, the container with all the large utensils had cows, the dish towels had sheep, and the rugs by the sink and stove had pigs were just to name a few.

The TV sitting on the counter softly projected the news as it recounted the events that led up to Toxic carrying Vast off but still letting him get away. Blurry street views of Toxic flying overhead with Vast in his arms were shown as the reporters speculated about Vast's connections to the supervillain who owned the now stolen necklace. Vast knew they'd be talking about things the next morning but hated to be reminded he now owed Toxic for saving his life. He'd be dead if he'd hit the ground at that height no matter how quickly his body healed itself.

Narcissa lifted her head up from the stack of papers she was flipping through when he walked in. She set them aside and reached out in front of her, a warble in the air appeared and her hand disappeared into it only for her to safely pull it back out of the distortion with a first aid kit.

"How long have you been up?" Vast asked as he pulled out a chair and plopped down next to Clover, noting the bandage on Clover's cheek and offered his arm up to Narcissa who got to work rubbing a burn slave on the agitated skin.

"Most of the day..." Clover absentmindedly stirred his coffee, staring at it like it would tell him secrets. The spoon clicked against the mug's sides rhythmically.

"What is that? An hour of sleep? That's a record, Clove." Vast sighed and tilted his chair back onto the back legs. Clover looked towards him but not at him, rarely ever making eye contact.

"The necklace is at the jewelers." He pushed his phone over to Vast and returned his gaze back to the black liquid in his mug. Vast grabbed it and glanced over the screen to find a text asking them to meet up when they could find the time.

"That's not good." Vast chewed his bottom lip as his mind considered all the reasons the jeweler would want to meet rather than just continue with the usual plan. Could it be a trap? But Vast had been careful, he'd erased any memories of him and Clover, all most people who they let get close would remember of them are foggy faces and broken conversations and missing time. And so far, no one had talked; being successfully convinced that even if they did go to the cops, they'd have no good memories to offer.

As Vast considered this, Narcissa wrapped a bandage around his forearm and tapped off the end with medical tape then softly patted the top of his hand before sitting back and resuming her business with the papers.

"I guess we can go after the sun finishes setting and I get something to eat," Vast concluded and handed the phone back to Clover who pocketed it and took a long drink of his coffee.

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