Just Another Fishing Trip? Right. (IC)

[Raveled]

"Any team in the NFL would not be happy with having a T-Baby on the team," he pointed out. "Unless that's what you meant by going ballistic." He shrugged, rolling his shoulders, then uncrossing and recrossing his legs. He was not looking forward to trying that fish... "Nah, I think the hero gig is what I'm going to be doing. At least until I'm all old and wrinkled, at least." He glanced at his hand in the firelight and wondered briefly what would happen to him when he got old. Would his powers fade as his body got weaker? They hadn't been tied to his physical abilities so far, but he'd only had them for a year. Who knew what would happen in the rest of his life? Would he stay as powerful as he was, grow weaker... or maybe some day, lose control and just explode?

[Quinn]

He winced and shrugged, looking away from the fish longer than might have been advisable to watch the setting sun's light play over the lake water. The T-Baby thing wasn't something they brought up often; same with John's original home or his parental...issues. Morgan'd long passed the point of concern over it (Crow hadn't), but it was hard seeing his friend like that. Just because he had some rather awkward powers didn't make him automatically a bad guy. He'd known him long enough to cement that fact in his head (that, and it was impossible to view Brian as a bad dude after watching him stumble-bum around worrying about upcoming dates with Flora).

Morgan snerked. Then stuffed that down, hoping the low light covered it, and resumed a sympathetic look.

"Man, forgot about that...bah. Look, you're a cool dude. Doesn't matter if you sling some bad mojo around or not. And any coach or exec who'd be a jerk about it would be getting some rather awkward press."

Wicked grin. "Big-time awkward press. And same-same; sticking it to...no. No, sorry. I shouldn't say that. It just...feels right, y'know? Every time I go out and stop a robbery. So I'm not about to stop now either. Heck, we haven't even saved the world yet! Can't retire until we get one of those missions under our belt, right?" Grin changed to a warm smile.

[Raveled]

"I don't know about that, man. I mean, a big world-saving job means there's got to be a big world-threatening baddie, right?" Brian cast a practiced eye over the burning logs and picked up a long stick to turn them, exposing fresh wood to the flames. "Maybe it's better for the world if all us heroes have a reason to stay small-time, you know? No more threats than muggers and purse-snatchers and bank robbers."

[Quinn]

The teen shrugged again, rummaging around his pockets for a package of marshmallows. Quick rip, and he stuck two onto the prongs of a metal fork; holding them a decent height over the flames. The package then covered the distance between him and Brian with a mild toss; good thing he hadn't forgotten these...

"Amen to that, man - I'd live happy if the worst thing I had to worry about was the degree to which my name struck fear into the hearts of ye common mountebank." Crowe mimed swinging the fork like a fencing sword, then chuckled. "Price of admission, tho'. Bleh."

Beat.

Idly, he squinted out into the dark; still toasting the marshmallows a nice golden-brown (in theory). Huh...could have sworn... "Hey Bri, you hear something?"

[Raveled]

Brian poked at the strips of fish frying in the pan. "All I hear is the soul of this sushi crying out in horror, man. 'What did we ever do to you, Morgan,' they're crying. 'We just wanted to be delicious, why do you cook us so poorly?'" He started pawing through his pack, and when he didn't find what he wanted there he went into the tent and checked the bags there. Eventually he came out holding a long-handled fork triumphantly in the air. He went back to the fire and squatted down next to it, poking at the fish. "See, you've got to keep turning it, like this." The long metal tines speared the fish expertly and flipped it, pressing down on the meat to force some of the fluids out. "Hm. Did you remember to bring any garlic or anything?"

[Quinn]

Morgan stuck his tongue out at Brian - damnit, he was a fine cook. This pan was just of poor quality. Heated the fish up too fast. "Brian, you're talking - might want to look into that."

Still, the teen bent over and started rummaging through the cooking kit; digging into the pile of supplies that had been brought along...fish spices, spices, where were th-AHA! Crowe pulled free a small bottle of a spice labeled 'g' and tossed it over. Though for a moment he was wondering if garlic was supposed to be a brown powder. Meh, of course it was. Not like there was another spice starting with 'g' in that box...

He cocked an ear to the wind again, listening for that sound he'd thought he'd heard. Weird...really didn't sound like a bush rustling or a tree - more like ruffling fur. Maybe a raccoon was out there or something? "Hey Bri, remember to hang the food from a tree before we crash tonight, a'ight?"

[Raveled]

Brian laughed and caught the jar of spices. He opened it easily and sprinkled a pinch on either cut of fish, then turned them over and smeared the spiced sides on the pan before flipping them back again. He didn't want to let one side get over-seasoned on one side, but he didn't want to let one side get under-cooked, either. "Not sure how effective putting it up a tree will be in Wharton," he said. "With our luck there'll be flying squirrel-bears that will snatch it mid-air." He chuckle and poked the fish a bit.