The Average Superhero

Superhero Starter Kit

I snap back to reality when Corrosion responds. "Look I know what I'm asking you to do is unorthodox and what some may describe as idiotic. But all the other heroes are busy and you're the only other person that I can think of that can help me fight them."

Wait did he just say all the other heroes? As in he asked?

"Hold up, did you just say other heroes? Like you spoke to them?" I ask, kind of shocked and the fan girl inside me is starting to stir.

He finally looks up to me and all the seriousness is wiped away and replaced by an excited stupid smirk. "Yup. I'll tell you about as soon as you agree to help."

Dang, I so just gave him the upper hand didn't I?

I take a hesitant breath, already knowing my answer, a sure answer. I don't know why I'm being hesitant. Maybe because I know that there is no backing out of this. Maybe because I still don't know what his real motives are. Maybe because I don't even have a plan. But I have to do this. For the city, no screw the city. For the lives that infest the city. "I'm in."

Corrosion let out a small chuckle that made me immediately regret my life decisions. "Great," he tilts his head and a chunk of hair falls in his eyes, right between the little crease in his brows.

____________

After Corrosion oh-so-dramatically said "great," he pulled up a roll-y chair out of no where and a cartoonishly large black chest that resembles one of Black Ops'. drop boxes. "First things first, get you supplies for the missions." He starts to rummage through the box after ushering my to take a seat. 

"So it's a mission now and not just a big clean up for your mess?" I smirk a little, knowing that it'll get under his skin, but in a playful manner.

"No." He stops and stares straight at the wall to my right, then continues whatever business he's up to. "Well kind of, more of an operation really." Still throwing stuff from different corners within the chess, bombarding the walls to where the thumps were almost visible. 

I feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips. "So... Do you have a name for this operation?" Hoping that I can trick him into giving me an opening to name this so called "operation." Just to make a reference that he'll likely miss. I just can't help myself.

I'm a nerd, deal with it.

The glossy light bounced harmlessly off his pale upturned nose as he scrunched due to the bizarre inquisition. "Uh...no, not really-" he cut himself off, "well, not officially." A faint. reminiscent smirk lingered on his face, almost like the memory was fond. I choose not to poke the bear, I don't want to mess up whatever made his smirk turn ghostly.

Before I can continue on with the not-exactly-small-talk-but-not-really-a-conversation, Corrosion laughed triumphantly, and turned to me with his hands full of random everyday objects. 

"Is that the 'supplies' I'll need for the operation?" Evident in my restricted voice that this just seams ridiculous. 

I tilt my head and look at everything. The base in which he's effortlessly balancing the items on is wrinkly black cloth. 

Please tell me he is not making me wear a skin tight suit like he is...Ew.

He walked towards his desk once again and told me to follow, I did. Immediately he started to lay the objects onto the polished wood. 

Why must he be so dramatic about everything? He's probably in the drama club. Haha, I would like to see that. Imagine him doing a Shakespeare play wearing tights and a feathery hat...Wait he is in tights, never mind.