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Welcome Wagon (IC)


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February 2012

Steve and John hadn't seen much of each other over the last several months, for all that they were still sharing the same space. Steve was working long shifts at HAX, the high-tech lab where he'd been hired as a security guard, and when he wasn't busy with work he was away walking the city streets for long hours, sometimes moving back into costume to fight various monsters. Archimedes, the cat he'd taken in after the Deep One invasion, had bonded well enough with both men, but she was a solitary creature like most of her breed. Steve himself had seemed more confident and sure of himself the last few days, but still was content to sit home alone most of the time on those rare occasions when he was actually home.

One day, when John returned from work, he found Steve standing in the kitchen and packing a brown wicker basket with food: glass bottles full of the brown fizzy drink favored among many in this new century, the bread wrapped around meat that was so popular as well, and even a few jars of herbs and spices. "Hello, John," said Steve at his roomate's arrival, as ever his voice that flat, dry tone like the voice of a statue discussing human affairs. "The apartment at the end of the hall has become occupied with people. I am welcoming them. It is a custom."

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After a long day of attracting customers into Champions, John was content on enjoying a nice evening of fun. Doing so, he was all about the night's festivities. He met a few new people, hung out with some friends. All the while, he was hiding his true nature. He was not truely John Black of Earth, he was ΗÏων, a satyr from ancient Olympus. Through some complicated events, he ended up in modern times. He was set up in a nice apartment with a roommate by the name of Steve. Steve also had a secret identity he had to keep from the world. A secret kept by them both. And his cat. Archimedes was a nice enough cat, John and the cat would have conversations from time to time. Not very long ones. Cats, you know?

He met a nice woman by the name of Galatea and ended up at her place. John couldn't really take her to his place. It was a place where heroes with identities stayed! By the morning he was home refreshed for the new day. But apparently Steve was up too! "Hey," John boomed joyously, "I'd love to go with you!" He quickly walked over to the kitchen area, petting Archimedes on the way. "How's it goin," he greeted the cat in passing. "Staring at the clock tick," it said uninterested in it's surrounding. John looked at the things on the counter then to Steve, "So, who are we going to meet today?"

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"We are meeting political refugees from a non-human nation-state in the South Pacific. They promoted political change in their native land." Steve closed the basket with finality and put it under his arm with incongruous smoothness. "I believe the colloquial term for their homeland is 'Gorilla Island.' They use holographic disguises to move about among humans without detection." Steve was familiar with non-human sentient species, more familiar than he'd have liked to be. "They will appreciate meeting a man of your personality." And with that, he led the way out of the apartment, his footsteps thudding solidly on the floor beneath their feet. "You have been with a woman," he commented as they walked through the halls, the sounds and smells of the special circumstances housing as always happily alien. "I can tell."

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"Gorillas," John said musing out loud as they walked to the door, "unfortunately those are animals that I have only seen in pictures." John tried going to the zoo once. It was like walking into a human prison. Sure the animals were kept well and were happy, but he couldn't stand seeing caged beings. It was like if Someone put a human in a cage, hence the prison metaphor. "And not even animal gorillas, human gorillas," he said excitedly, but remembering to keep his voice down in the hall, "It will be great to meet these gorillas."

John smiled on the verge of a grin when Steve made mention his last night's escapades. "Yes, her name was Galatea. She was a very fine woman." He quirked an eyebrow, "So, how about you, my man? We have to get you out one day and find you at least one. I'm sure a woman would do you well."

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Steve was the mirror image of his room-mate when it came to women, something that had been a private joke during their months sharing the same space. Normally he would simply have dismissed John's suggestion with a grim remark, or a simple shrug, but today..."...she has asked that I not speak of it to others," replied Steve after a long hesitation. Nervously, he walked quickly to the door of the new apartment, his feet thudding on the floor beneath, and then knocking resoundingly on the door. "We are the welcome wagon!" he called through the door to the occupants within, his back straight as a board.

A few moments later, after the sound of movement from inside, the door swung open to reveal what looked for all the world like a very short, very wide man with a heavy silver beard and thick glasses. He peered up at the two men uncertainly, and finally spoke in a deep voice. "Hello! I am Professor Young. Welcome to my home." He took the basket Steve handed him wordlessly, then looked back up at them. "Come in, come in!" The Professor's apartment, visible behind him, was designed for short people, with legless chairs and couches, low-slung kitchen supplies, and handholds on the walls. "Make yourselves at home."

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