Industrial Strength Magic

Chapter 39: Tactical Hugs

Chapter 39: Tactical Hugs

***Hardcase**

Natalie grabbed a burger from the grill and sat down at the plastic picnic table beside Wraith, visible across the entire pool because of her halo of beautiful red-gold hair.

Wraith was slouched on the bench-seat, her back against the edge of the table, looking out at the party itself with a mildly amused smirk.

The confident attitude Wraith had towards life just...looked good on her, and Hardcase often found herself wishing she could have a fraction of it. Natalie worried about everything.

“How’s it going?” Natalie asked, sliding her plate in beside Wraith’s spot on the plastic table.

“This place is a powder keg. I count at least three pairs of sworn enemies mingling in the crowd right now.” Wraith responded, glancing over at her. “You got hyperweave on under there?” She glanced over at Hardcase’s blouse and jeans.

Natalie’s face heated up as Wraith expressed interest in her clothes.

I knew I should’ve worn something different!

“N-no, just regular clothes.”

“Then you should stick close to me. I think Perry’s about to start a fight.”

“Huh?” Hardcase craned her neck to see what Wraith was talking about.

Perry and some random guy were squeezing each other’s hands, expressions murderous.

“That guy’s too hot,” Wraith said offhand. “he’s obviously a gene-edit, cyborg or illusion, and you don’t wanna touch those with a ten-foot pole. Too much baggage. Plastic isn’t really my type, either.”

“So, umm…” Natalie’s heart hammered in her ears. “What is your type?” She took a bite of her burger to hide her nerves.

“Well, I-“

“Oh, my God, this burger is so good!” Natalie shouted, triggering a giggle fit from the redheaded girl beside her.

***Perry***

Well this sucks, Perry thought as his hand folded like a wet tissue. He couldn’t measure it objectively, but it seemed like Chemestro was at least 40% stronger than him, and it was making his bones creak with discomfort.

But they weren’t breaking.

The two of them glared at each other for a moment before Perry offered an out.

“Care for a burger?” Perry asked, dropping Chemestro’s hand, the cowl doing the same.

“I like eating common food every now and then, sure.”

“I’ll fix one up special for you.” Perry said, heading for the grill with every intention of poisoning his guts out.

Probably wouldn’t work on someone named Chemestro, but it’s the thought that counts.

Oddly enough, the guy decided to follow Perry to the grill, watching impassively as Perry assembled the black bean burger, making it impossible to add even the smallest amount of rat poison or spit.

“Here,” Perry said with an amiable grin.

“Thanks,” Chemestro said, taking the paper plate and a plastic knife before removing both buns and scraping off the condiments with the knife.

Perry’s eye twitched as the bastard desecrated his burger.

“Too many carbs,” Chemestro said by way of explanation, cutting the burger into bite-sized pieces and stabbing them with his knife.

“You could’ve just…passed that to someone else and taken one off the grill!” Perry blurted. “Or told me to stop!”

“That would’ve been better, but I was curious about how you people make burgers.”

“What do you mean by you people?” Perry asked, genuinely confused.

“Civilians.”

Perry glanced around at the party, where he spotted Andy the Giant giving women shoulder-rides, one of whom was waving a death-ray in the air as her mount stumbled around the pool in a drunken haze.

“Most of the people here aren’t civilians, and they all make burgers the same way.”

“Depends on how you define ‘civilian’”. Chemestro said, pointing at him with the knife before tossing the plate with the STILL PERFECTLY USABLE buns in the garbage.

Dear Lord, you’re irritating, Perry thought, scowling.

******

“Looks like our kids are getting along great!” Darryl said, beaming.

“…seriously?” Neuron asked.

“What’s his weakness, Neuron?” Darryl asked, turning back to the brain-in-a-jar with a manic expression. “Could he make me fall right out of my armor? Can he control the direction and permeability to generate lift? Can he fly, Neuron?”

“No, you can’t fight him until he’s been in the business at least a year, Darryl,” Neuron said through the tiny speaker in his jar, rolling his eyes.

“C’mon, man, just tell me if he can fly.” Darryl pleaded.

“You’re going to have to find out the same as everyone else.” Neuron shot him down again. “In the meantime, I look forward to seeing my creation destroy yours…metaphorically.”

“That goddamn bun was still usable!” Paradox shouted in the distance, his voice disappearing into the din of the party.

“Sounds like your boy has a short fuse,” Neuron said, wobbling in place.

“Better than trying to raise a child into a robot,” Darryl said.

“That’s rich, coming from you, Darryl,” Neuron said.

Darryl glanced off to the side, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit, my mother-in-law’s here. Time to make myself scarce.”

***Perry***

“I don’t see why you’re so upset about a burger bun.” Chemestro said.

“It’s not the bun, it’s the four MILLION dollars worth of equipment you stole from me!” Perry said. Nemesis had been created for less.

“Mmm,” Chemestro pursed his lips and shook his head. “I still don’t see why you’re upset…I’m using it better.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Perry said. There was no way a bit of fancy filtering would compensate for Perry’s raw boost in performance.

“I guess we’ll never know,” Chemestro said with a shrug. “What with you taking after your emasculated weakling of a father instead of your mother.”

He reached out and flicked Perry’s forehead.

“What are you gonna do without a suit of cardboard armor, Paradox?”

Oh, I’mma show ya, Perry thought, his vision gradually narrowing to Chemestro’s smug, punchable face.

Out of the gradually dimming corner of his eye, he spotted Hardcase shaking her head and wildly gesturing to get his attention. That provided him a heartbeat of clarity which allowed him to unravel the spell.

He’s deliberately trying to get under my skin, Perry realized, the anger snuffed like it’d been doused in cold water.

One of the unwritten rules of supers was hospitality: Thou shalt not attack invited guests. There was a rash of that kind of behavior in the eighties and early nineties, which lead to the common acceptance that any attack on a guest could be construed as an actual, honest-to-God ambush with intent to kill, because the two were a hair’s breadth apart when dealing with superpowers.

Nothing would get Paradox more bad rep within the community than having him throw the first punch at someone he’d invited. That would invariably be seen as luring them there with malicious intent.

He hadn’t actually invited Chemestro, but given the open-invite nature of the event, it would still cast Perry in a poor light.

Well, If me getting mad is what Chemestro wants, then obviously I should do the opposite.

Perry took a page from his dad and put some Paradox spin on it.

“You’re right, I’m a harmless weakling, like my dad.” Perry said, smiling. “Definitely not dangerous, and someone you can totally let your guard down around without worrying about extreme retribution leading to loss of limb or defenestration.”

It was Chemestro’s turn to frown, looking genuinely confused.

“Is…is that sarcasm? Are you serious?”

“I’m totally serious.” Perry said with the straightest of faces. “I’m a pathetic worm who couldn’t bring himself to hurt a fly.”

“I feel as though you’re lying to my face in a hyperbolic way designed to irritate me.” Chemestro said.

“I would never.”

“I find it irritating.”

“I’m truly sorry you feel that way,” Perry said. “If there’s anything I can do to be a better host, please, letmeknow. Would you like me to fix you up some nostalgic childhood food to put you at ease? Nutrient slurry from a beaker, perhaps? Steroid injection?”

Perry was taking a stab in the dark based on what he knew about Neuron and Chemestro’s seeming inexperience with real food, but it seemed to be working, because Chemestro reddened, his brow lowering.

“Do you actually have a bed or would you describe it as a cot?” Perry continued.

“Comfort breeds weakness,” Chemestro blurted, his words coming out in the measured cadence off a someone who’d had it drilled into them from a young age.

Perry recognized a weakness.

“Oh, you poor thing,“ Perry said, spreading his arms wide and giving Chemestro a big ol’ hug. “Bring it in man,”

Pat, pat.

For just an instant the super stood stock still, then Perry’s head rocked back as the cowl’s knuckles impacted against his face.

HP: 2

Yay, I win! Perry thought as blood began to gush out of his nose, staining his shit-eating grin red. There was no serious damage thanks to his HP.

“There’s more than one kind of weakness, Chemestro,” Perry said as the party ground to a halt. “Did your daddy miss that one?”

“AAAH!” Chemestro charged forward as the surrounding supers began to cheer.

******

“What are we doing under here?” Neuron asked as Darryl peered furtively out from beneath the tablecloth.

“Hiding from my mother-in-law, obviously. She kind of wants to kill me.”

“Let me rephrase,” Neuron continued. “Why am I under here?”

Darryl opened his mouth, finger raised, before frowning. “Did your son just punch my son for hugging him?”

“Yes, that was outside my calculations.”

“Did you ever hug your son?” Darryl asked.

“Do I look like I could do that?” Neuron asked.

“Did you ever get a surrogate hugger? A wet nurse, kindergarten teacher or maid? Childhood friend?”

“There was no need,” Neuron said.

Darryl sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I think my son knowingly stole your son’s hug virginity.”

“Yes, I did not expect it to elicit such a strong reaction. I shall take steps to rectify the weakness your son has exposed.”

“I suggest you outsource it,” Darryl said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I fail to understand if your sarcasm was intended to convey that that was a good idea or a bad one.”

“Totally serious actually. I can recommend some good therapists who – oh shit, she’s coming this way!”

Darryl began crawling the opposite direction.

***Perry***

“FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!” The surrounding supers chanted as Perry got his butt kicked.

It wasn’t even a close thing, really.

Every time Perry took a swing it felt like he was briefly trying to force his body through molasses.

Then he got punched.

Chemestro burned through his HP in two more punches, then Perry really started to feel it.

Perry got tossed around like a rag doll, slamming into the tiled floor outside the pool. He grabbed a nearby wooden club left leaning against a table by a barbarian-looking fellow, swinging the massive instrument at Chemestro’s face.

Perry’s arm was seized by the air itself while the club disintegrated into dust.

Then he got punched.

Chemestro kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backwards into the grill, burning lines across his forearms. Perry hissed in pain and staggered away from the grill’s surface before he became part of the menu.

He glanced over and spotted the Elysian Attendant watching with wide eyes. “My very being prevents me from engaging in violence, so…do your best!” Sophie said, clutching a trembling spatula in front of her as she gave him a thumb’s up.

“How we doin’ on burgers?” Perry asked.

“We’re running low, but because of the potluck, we should be fine until the end of the day.”

“Cool.”

Chemestro waved a hand and the grill exploded into searing heat behind him, forcing him stumbling forward into a telegraphed punch.

Perry tried to raise his arms to block, but they were held at his side by the air. He tried to lean out of the way, but his entire body seemed to be doomed to be a punching-bag.

The hit flung Perry backwards and he just barely managed to avoid hitting the hot metal by sliding under it.

Then all the hot coals dumped over him.

“Agh!” Perry gave a strangled scream and scrambled out of the pile of coals, straight into a two-hit combo that left him staggering in place, bleeding from a split lip and sporting a swollen eye, hair singed and patchy.

Chemestro was smacked in the chest by Heather’s iron club, causing him to reel back in pain.

“Oh, it’s getting good now!” Andy the giant rumbled, holding a beer between thumb and forefinger.

Perry saw Heather freeze in place as the air around her locked down, and Chemestro wound up for a punch.

In that moment, Perry forgot that Chemstro was bigger, stronger, and had more powers immediately on-hand.

He tackled the prick into the pool.

Or at least, he tried.

Mid-fall, Chemestro slipped through Perry’s grip, floating above the surface of the water while Perry went flailing into the drink.

“I knew it!” he barely made out dad’s voice before the water slammed into his face. All sound was cut off when Perry was engulfed in chlorinated water aggressively stinging every cut and burn across his body.