(no subject)

[blindbirdboy]

"Yeah, they're real. Left one's ...hurt."

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[zealots]

Privately, Bennet is impressed when Iggy neither becomes disoriented nor even starts babbling questions, the two most common reactions he's observed from those experiencing teleportation for the first time. Perhaps the lad has simply experienced such effects before, but such sturdy constitution is still to be commended.

It's more than he can say for Harlan Kleinstock, who at present is eyeing Iggy with a squinty-eyed, piggish suspicion, as though he's not sure yet if this kid is trying to play a joke on him or not. There are no sandwiches laid out, peanut butter or otherwise. There's plenty of dehydrated fruits and vegetables, shelf-stabilized pork chops, and a crudely-made pizza. But no sandwiches.

"You tryin' to play head games with me, chicken wings? You think you're being smart? You want me to kick your face in?"

"You will do no such thing, Harlan." Exodus's voice is mild compared to the rough baritone of Harlan Kleinstock, but ther's a note of dangerous warning there that makes the huge mutant back off instantly. His eyes flare as he pins the junior Acolyte with his gaze, and what he says next comes out more as command than suggestion. "I'm sure we have some of this peanut butter among the condiments in the pantry. Why don't you fetch some, that I might forgive this momentary lapse in decorum?"

"O-Of course, Exodus," Kleinstock stammers. "I'll get right on that." And he doesn't waste time either, practically tearing out of there. Unlike Iggy, he has seen personally what Bennet can do to those who displease him.