The Wrong Genre

Petty for Science

Kyle was currently sitting in one of the rooms furthest back in the hero headquarters; it was a room with only one door that he was sitting as far away from as possible and facing so as to keep an eye on it. This way, no one could sneak up on him and get their eyes burnt out by his flailing fingers; said fingers were unsheathed, because knitting was incredibly hard for a guy with six-inch fingers of metal death, forget six-inch fingers of metal death that couldn't bend because they were stuffed in a sheath.

He was hiding out, doing his knitting, because that's what he had taken to doing whenever Maestro and his minions were hanging out and it wasn't necessary he be there (which, honestly, wasn't often anyway). The three absolutely hated him, after all, and he didn't want to be the one causing problems for their makeshift alliance.

The door to the room, which was closed to give Kyle further warning and more time to put his fingers away, opened without him noticing because he was engrossed in his technique.

What did pull him out of his knitting-zone was the three sharp intakes of breath and the exclamation, "What is that?"

Kyle's head jerked up and he came face-to-face with the three people he'd been in this room avoiding. The tips of his ears colored red as he gave them an unintentional scolded-puppy look.

"Um... a scarf?" He asked uncertainly, looking at the woven strands. It looked kinda scarf-like. But it was a terrible muddy green color. "I know it isn't the best color, but it's all I had left..."

"No, the pointy things!" Zakum, still the only one of the trio undignified enough to demand things in this manner, asked.

"Teh needles?" He suggested, quite honestly lost. Romulus and Zakum continued staring at what appeared to be his knitting, but Maestro muttered something that may have been, "who legitimately typos?"

"Your fingers actually bend?" Romulus asked, much more composed than Zakum. His eyes, however, were noticeably wider than usual. Even Maestro, though he technically still possessed his signature smile, had slightly furrowed brows and was blinking twice as fast as usual.

Not that Kyle knew how fast people usually blinked... that would be weird.

"Didn't I tell you that?" He asked nervously, setting down his knitting supplies and reaching for his sheaths.

"Well, yes, but I was thinking Edward Scissorhands, or maybe joints at least... and I've never seen you bend them like this before," Maestro muttered more to himself than Kyle, stepping forward with no fear and absently sweeping the covers away from the man's pointed fingers. He tried to pull back into the chair as Zakum and Romulus followed their boss' lead and crowded around; they noticed his fingers were once more as straight as normal knives. That had to be uncomfortable, it was for real fingers, but maybe that was where his fingers naturally fell?

But the position wasn't for comfort, it was for safety. When his fingers weren't in sheaths, which they were nearly twenty-four seven, he kept them as straight as possible most of the time to avoid cutting things he didn't intend to. Like, for instance, a man and his two minions who didn't see the common sense in staying as far from a man with knife hands as possible.

"Maybe it retracts on one side and extends on the other?" Romulus suggested.

"That would result in a slant, not a curve. Does it feel like manipulating your original fingers?" Maestro asked, scientist face on full throttle. Kyle nodded quickly, hoping the three would leave him be. But instead Maestro began reaching towards his hand; his sharp, deadly, corrosive hand. Zakum said something about how he could never get his knives to be that shiny, and asked what the secret was. Romulus responded that Zakum didn't have knives and that was probably his biggest problem.