Sorry, The Only Power Left Is Alteration.

A scream issued from the other side of the cave.

Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO:

FATALITY!

“Please state your name clearly and the name of your party members,” Banko said.

The man had paper. He never seemed to run out of it.

“Nancy Folgers, my party members are Fara Gislet and Guy Higgens,” a soft voice said in response.

“Can you spell those please?”

“Fine, my name first, Nancy Folgers, N-A…”

This was the fifth time Ebony heard him ask that since she came to the line. They were smart about this. They had formed a power group but they weren’t trying to hoard the loot. Instead, they were collecting something more valuable, information. They made it seem so boring and innocent, like an emergency room reception office.

The bright rocks all over this cave strained Ebony’s eyes as she stood in line. First murdered by a demon girl, saved a life, forced to wait in line for dog food. What was her life right now?

Ebony yawned so hard her jaw almost cracked. Yet, she remained in some forced state of consciousness. It felt like hooks on strings dug into her body and forced it to move through a fog. Crashing into the granite floor to sink into slumber felt imminent. Yet, even if she had a queen-sized mattress on a luxury bed, she knew sleep wouldn’t come as long as these hooks remained digging in her skin. She yawned again, a loud long yawn as her head felt heavy and groggy. It wouldn’t stop, one yawn after another, no matter how much she tried to suppress them. This wake-up call needed to be released. She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose.

A scream issued from the other side of the cave, “Please, for the love of all things holy, make it stop!”

Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO:

FATALITY!

Whatever forced her out of her cursed slumber was neither gentle or healthy. Ebony could feel her general well-being gradually sliding. If sleep remained out of reach much longer, the same fate as that poor man; God rest his poor gentle soul, awaited her.

Checking her powers and numbers seemed like the thing to do; others were doing it. It wasn’t like she’d never used a computer before. Her boy played those cartoon games too, and he was always talking about them with his friends.

What was her boy doing? How was he faring without his meals? Was he eating right? Was he drinking enough water? The last of the meatloaf she cooked would soon be finished. Where would his next meal come from? Would that deadbeat try to come back into his life and play the hero? Why worry about it now? She couldn’t help but worry. She never thought she’d be able to worry about it. Death was supposed to be clean, as in there was supposed to be nothing. Whatever this was, it didn’t feel like death.

She forgot about checking her powers and numbers as she waited in line. Eyelids drooped like half drawn curtains while she heard more people spell out their names for the dream team. The officer supervised, the CEO organized, and the others just looked threatening except for the skinny boy who looked almost the same age as her son. He looked like someone he might have played those cartoon games with.

Another scream, the same voice from before, issued from the other side of the cave, “Please, not again! No! No! No! No!”

Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO:

FATALITY!

Roaches skittered across the granite in front of her. Ebony backed up lest they try to crawl up her leg again.

Would she stay with roach girl and the old man? The girl needed somebody to look after her. The old man seemed like a decent person, even if he was dull as a bag of rocks and couldn’t hold a conversation when she put it in a box for him.

Come to think of it, they never introduced themselves. Well, there would be plenty of time for that.

Her position in the line moved forward. Looking back, she could see some groups that had collected bars already choosing an exit. Good, the less people the better.

Now about this food. If it could even be called that. What kind of food came from a little brown box. Nutrient bar? More like Sooby snacks. That’s what they would taste like, of which she was certain. Then again, she imagined Sooby snacks probably had flavor.

A tall black man, well built and probably middle aged with no hair, nicely shaped head though, stood in front of her accompanied by a short white girl in oversized clothes. It was their turn. Ebony recognized the beefcake, but not from her previous life. He was the guy growing shields out of his arms and legs earlier. The sleeves and pant legs of his clothes were ripped and clearly stained with dried blood. Even in utter exhaustion, Ebony felt a bit of a tingle just looking at him. He’d fought well too.

“Please state your name and spell it clearly,” Banko said.

“Darrone Roberts, that’s D-A-R…”

Ebony took notes on this one, she was going to look him up for sure. Or she’d just forget his name because her mind remained in sleep deprivation mode.

The fat butcher knelt down as the girl in front of Ebony began spelling her name. His pants strained as his belly bulged against his bloody shirt. He ham-handedly grabbed at the boxes while dropping more than he clutched. Fistfuls went in the middle of his outstretched rounded apron until he had a little pile in the bloody cloth. Boxes threatened to slip out of slices in the fabric.

“Hey! Hey! I thought we were distributing this fairly. Just because you’re some fat lard doesn’t mean you can take a whole mountain of boxes when there’s a line of hungry people!” Ebony yelled towards him.

Nobody behind Ebony dared to join the protest, but with how many boxes butcher mart had just taken, they would have to reduce the rations to one box per person instead of two.

Mark snickered, “Deal with it lady. Big boy worked hard and he needs his energy to heal. Anyone else want to make noise about it!?”

The people who had already received their rations didn’t want to make waves and the people in line weren’t in the mood for a fight. Ebony wondered if she would have risked singling herself out if she wasn’t so tired. Then she was suddenly shoved to the side as two girls pushed past her to the front of the line.

With the frustration from her lack of sleep building, Ebony had to hold back the urge to throw a punch. And she almost jumped forward and pushed the tall woman whose hair was set in dyed gold braids. The mocha skinned girl turned around at Ebony’s first angry step forward.

“Oh no, you’re not gonna try and push me? Are you, old lady?” A hand went on her hip, “Are you looking to die?”

The woman pushed Ebony in the chest to make her stumble back against an old woman wearing loose colorful robes. The frail looking old lady didn’t fall backwards upon catching Ebony.

The woman with the braided hair laughed, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I don’t hurt helpless old ladies.”

Megan shuffled around Darrone for protection when she saw the first people she’d met upon waking up in this cave. The last thing she wanted was for them to see her. She was hoping maybe they forgotten she’d existed or that they would have been killed when the chains came down earlier.

Lizbet played with her gold hoop earrings with one hand while manifesting a pile of small silver coins in another.

“Janele! We don’t got all day here. Let’s get some food and leave like we planned.”

Janele growled at the line, “Try anything and you’re gone,” then she turned and looked at Mark because he presented himself as the one in charge despite the Chinese man doing all the talking, “Hey, you! You some kind of police from the states? Give us our share right now and we’ll get. We want six boxes each.”

Fedor wobbled away with his pile of boxes without looking back towards the confrontation. He moved back toward the stage where Azoria lazed across her throne gently swaying her legs as they folded over the throne’s skull capped arm.

A little bit of a staring contest ensues between Janele and Mark as Lizbet shuffled coins in her palm. The mana cost of keeping the attack ready was quite low, and with her recent training this attack had gained some interesting crowd control implications.

Teeth ground as Mark considered his options, as his opponents looked far too confident of their powers.

“Did you not see the line? It’s two boxes per person. And you have to give your name.”

Janele put a hand on her hip and the other up with the palm out, “You want to go Mr. USA police man? You want to learn Brazilian jujitsu the hard way? I can kick your – without my powers, so you don’t want to even deal with me at my new strength. No, no, no. None of this is happening, so give us our boxes and we’ll get. We're making it easy for you.”

Scuffed black police shoes spread apart ever so slightly as the baton came out and slapped his left hand. For a moment Janele looked taken aback and that was enough for Mark.

“Okay Bonnie and Clyde. Now maybe you have power to cause a whole bunch of problems, but you’re facing my team and a few hundred others behind you who don’t appreciate line jumpers. And they all have powers too. So, I suggest you get that thick hiney of yours to the back of the line and wait your turn.”

Janele glanced at Lizbet, whose fingers clutched so tightly around the coins she had manifested they turned white. Nickey already entered a combat stance, her full focus on Lizbet. Carson tried to look casual and not sweat. Banko focused on the girl with the money and formulated a plan to restrain her. Darrone manifested shields on his arms as Megan cowered behind him after whispering. Behind them, the line had moved back slightly leaving Ebony isolated. Though a few people in the line had their eyes trained on the two women. Ebony backed up slowly, but also kept watch as best she could.

Even Alfredo moved a bit forward, though he looked back toward Circe, hesitant to create too much of a distance from his charge as Fedor approached them.

Mark smirked, “I don’t have all day. So, what’s it going to be?