maskormenacelogs | time isn't the same for everyone there is

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time isn't the same for everyone there is

WHO: Max Crandall (or Max Mercury) and you!
WHERE: Maurtia Falls, and well, everywhere, really.
WHEN: The month of August!
WHAT: Mostly a lot of running. With and without superspeed.
WARNINGS: None thus far, will change it if anything applies.

In Maurtia Falls, Max can be found at dawn or near sunset in fairly normal exercise clothing- shorts, a plain shirt, and jogging-running shoes that are on the more expensive side- alternating between a jogging speed and run. His route runs from the imPort housing to alongside the canal for a distance before he reaches one of the larger downtown parks, before he makes a return on the other side of the canal, making for a decently long circuit- roughly four miles one way.

If there's something going on that might require a bit of speedy assistance such as a mugging, well, it's easy to lose track of the older man running, when a masked man appears nearly as quick as lighting to help out. Alternately, you can join him on his path. Nothing more healthy than a run, after all.

Elsewhere

Nonah. De Chima. Heropa.

While the regular non-superspeed running might be to help him get back into swing of things, now that he's healed up- besides the fact that Max has always liked running, even at the speed of a normal human- there's something about running at superspeed that makes everything right with the world.

Here, there's no connection to the Speedforce, which, as frustrating as it can be to Max to not be able to tap into it, confer with the speedsters that have gone into it and learn things from them he wouldn't be able to otherwise, is as much of a blessing as it is a problem.

It means there's no reason to be concerned about glancing off of it, of going too fast.

As a result, and because he needs to familiarize himself with this world, Max Mercury runs.

A streak of white and blue can occasionally be spotted through any of the imPort cities, gone as quick as it was there in the first place- Max occasionally stopping to save the occasional person from a car crash or other kind of accident in Heropa, preventing someone from falling from a building under construction in Nonah, sucking the air away from a quickly growing fire in a multiuse building in De Chima.

Another speedster can probably keep up on the run itself.

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Max didn't get his file immediately- it was prepared, but ending up in the hospital delayed him receiving it. The manila envelope with the file arrives in the mail roughly a month after he first got here, just as more confused people are showing up on the network.

He opens the file with some curiosity, looking over the information they had compiled before the information on the powers catches his eye- one more than the rest.

Max resists the urge to sigh- though it certainly explains a lot- and instead reaches for the communicator.

"Bart, do you have the time to come over here?"

Bart's communicator goes ping! right as he is in the middle of masterfully crafting the Eiffel Tower of sandwiches. Naturally, he doesn't respond until construction is not only completed, but the first bite has been taken.

When he gets the request, he sends back a brief clip.

"Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so," Bart says around a mouthful of multi-colored cold cuts. He swallows and holds up the Scooby Doo sandwich. "Three minutes?"

Max shakes his head at the sandwich, but doesn't include that in his reply, instead showing the file to the camera. "Take your time. Try not to choke."

"Uh... OK." Bart doesn't know why Max needs to show him that. Bart got one too. It's... somewhere around here. He read it! It just didn't tell him anything he didn't expect. Blah blah blah, you're a speedster, hooray.

He doesn't get why Max is making a Thing about it. It's not like Bart told them about the Speed Force.

Oh my god, he totally thinks Bart told them about the Speed Force. Bart smacks his sandwich against his forehead. "I won't choke."

Only because his mouth wasn't full when he realized it.

He ends the feed and, true to his word, three minutes later there is a windblown Bart Allen standing on Max's doorstep.

"Right on time," Max says, when he opens the door. The file is still in hand, and he waits for Bart to enter before doing anything else.

"They finally sent this to me. The contents are... interesting. To say the least." He offers them over to Bart, to let him read it.

Considering that only one of the powers is original to him, one can be of potential use, and the last he could do without entirely, he could've come off worse.

Bart suspects that is sarcasm. He's probably at like 3:01, or something like that, because he had to stop and add more mayo because there was a dry spot.

"Let me guess, you've got the power to make grass into chocolate, and now you're worried that you won't be able to use your power for good. That selfishness will set in and soon you'll be 900 pounds. Or is that... just... me..." Bart trails off as he literally flips through the file like an animation flip book. He turns a few pages back and stares. Stares. Stares. He's actually reading it several dozen times, just to make sure.

He mouths his own full name: Bartholomew Henry Allen. "... I am so screwed."

Only a bit of sarcasm, but for a completely different reason than the one Bart is thinking: Max wasn't actually keeping track of the time at all.

He lets Bart babble and wonder without saying anything, letting the milliseconds of reading and rereading soak in.

"It explains why I keep feeling like someone's been walking over my grave," Max says, his voice steady. "Though, I'd like to think you aren't the only cause."

"Can we blame Barry for all of it? 85%," Bart is already negotiating down, so this probably won't end up in his favor.

He really wants to know more about this - like what the limits are, how stupid does it have to be, does it have a sarcasm-ignoring method, etc. "Uh. So. How stupid does it have to be? Like is it going off when my shoelace comes untied or does it need to be something more active like... hey it's really hard to come up with stupidity examples on the fly. Running on the railroad tracks. Which I DON'T DO, but it's an example."

Running on such an uneven surface, especially with the gravel in between the crossbars, would be so dangerous.

"He's not that young," which is going to be Max's only concession to Bart's attempt to negotiate on it. He already said enough on it probably not being only Bart to begin with.

"I haven't figured that out yet, and I'm not sure I want either of you to test it. Just knowing it's there is enough. My guess would be that it would have to be for something active." Like Max really needed to know for sure, but apparently that's how this world wanted his life to be.

He does raise an eyebrow at Bart's example. "There's a trick to that one, but it doesn't rely on being fast."

Bart raises his eyebrows because, for Barry who seems to always be the same age in every photo Bart has been shown, this Barry looks baby-faced. Speedsters age funny, too, look at Uncle Max and Jay Garrick. "If he was any younger, I'd be in hiding. I'd have to call myself Teddy Higgenbottom and dye my hair black."

Testing it hadn't occurred to him in so many words, but, now that it has, that might not be a bad idea.

Ugh. No. Testing it involves being an idiot, and he does that enough. Bart does stupid things frequently, despite making an effort to be taken seriously since he swapped to the yellow-and-red. It will be inadvertently tested. That's bad enough.

"Does it involve vibrating free when your foot gets caught between the ties?" He's curious. He knows there's a trick, and he'll find out what it is. "Again: haven't done it! I'm planning for the future."

Bart with black hair... Now that's something Max can't quite see. "Stick to your normal hair color." Though dye is easier to fix than Bart deciding to shave his whole head.

Max shakes his head a bit at the question. "No, but it's a good idea for if it does happen."

But, since Bart is obviously curious...

He runs out of sight to his room here, and returns in costume. Something that would be nearly instant to the normal eye, but would have immediately keyed Bart in.

"Do you want to find out?"

"Yeah. Teddy's life is an unfortunate tale of getting kidnapped, taken across state lines to Gotham, and gang-pressed into 3 years of bird servitude."

Whoo! Field trip! TO....the train tracks! OK, they've had way better field trips, but they've also had really boring field trips that turn out to be biology or history lessons. Learning how to run safely on the tracks is automatically not boring.

It's not as cool as knowing how to run on power lines, but it's still not bad in case he ever has to chase down 1930s hobos. BE PREPARED. "Yes! Do you even have to - "

Bart is suddenly in costume. Technically, he too left the room to change, but it was only because Max did. Really, you get used to changing in front of people. That's what underwear is for.

" - ask? I'm looking up train tracks online." He's playing with his comm as he says this. "I found an old-timey steam train in Pennsylvania. To Strasburg! Said no one before today."

The only reason he changed upstairs was because he had left his costume there. That and it's easier to just leave his civilian clothes there.

"Better than assuming," he points out. "Strasburg sounds like a good option. Let's go."

With that, he takes off.

Peter almost missed it. He was sitting on a parkbanch texting like six people at once at probably just under the speed of sound or something. It really was a wonder that his communicator didn't explode from all the stress quick fingers put on it constantly. Of course he hadn't had it all THAT long so there was still plenty of time for it to do just that.

He glanced up at just the right moment to catch sight of someone in blue and white running by. Like actually running and not the running that normal people did that wasn't ACTUAL running but more like the casual stroll of a snail.

Which was awesome. He always wanted to 'run' into someone as fast as he was.

So of course he made a mad dash after him.

"Hey!" he yelled, "Your shoe's untied!"

Perfect greeting.

It was nice to know he was right- all the signs had been there, the sped up music being the immediate giveaway.

Max turns his head only long enough to confirm who it is, letting a grin slip onto his face.

"You want to wear boots when you're going this fast!"

Max doesn't slow down, but he doesn't speed up any, either. Right now is a good pace. See exactly how fast this other speedster is.

Edited 2016-08-14 15:51 (UTC)

He probably would have bumped into him eventually. Peter's never been one to hide his powers, it'd be like hiding a part of himself. He did blatantly lie about to the faces of people who saw him use them when he was a teenager... but that was mostly just him trying to be an edgy asshole.

"Boots?" he had no problems talking as he loped along. He didn't have any issues jogging along at this kind of pace. Nothing breakneck to it, it was leisurely almost, "I always wear running shoes. On account of the the running."

And nothing beat his obnoxious silver Nikes in his opinion. (Debateably) Stylish AND comfy.

Max enjoys the ability to have a quiet life- it isn't about trying to hide, he just prefers anonymity. Let the newer superheroes have their time in the sun.

"Laces aren't the greatest idea once you've hit a certain speed," he responds. There's that, and the fact that when it comes down to it, Max prefers the overall sturdiness, though that could be argued as him being old-fashioned.

He pushes the speed a bit further. Faster. "Run that often?"

"Double knots all the way!" he laughs. Course he has some boots too but those only go with his new X-men uniform. Which he hasn't really worn outside the Danger Room back home. It's so cool looking he's just afraid he'll wreck it. So it was for special occasions only.

He had no problem keeping up, in fact he was already getting antsy but he was trying to be patient.

"Often? All day everyday 'less I gotta slow down for someone else," which was often. But that was a part of life, sadly. Gotta slow it down for the sloths, "Never met anyone who could keep up with me before. You play Ping Pong?"

"Can't say it's really a hobby of mine," Max tells him. He cocks an eyebrow, it rising up out of view behind the mask.

By now, they're out of Heropa, on one of the more sparse side-roads going in the general direction of Central Florida. Max has been gradually going faster the whole time, while still keeping an interested eye on the young man's reaction.

"Hadn't met anyone who can keep up with you before now, huh? How about you set the pace, kid? I go by Max Mercury for a reason."

And with that, Max shoots ahead, making the original speed they were going at look slow in comparison.

"Max Mercury, huh? What a coinkydink, I like to call myself Quicksilver."

This was fun, he was having fun and when told to set the pace he smirked and tugged his goggles down. Then with some raucous laughter he took off after him, not a top save all the childrens from an exploding building in a tenth of a second fast speed but his usual need to get somewhere far fast speed.

"I'll teach ya how to play," he waved as he passed, "Then I don't have to play against myself."

He didn't really run in a strait line unless he was going really superduper breakneck, which he wasn't. It was a distracted sorta zigzaggy run that spoke of someone just having fun and wasn't taking things all that seriously.

Fast. But not pushing it to the point where Max can't keep up, and he's soon running beside Peter again, a step or so behind to continue letting him decide the direction and speed, just the slightest grin present.

"Quicksilver, huh? I used to go by that myself." Decades and decades ago.

Barbara's not quite there with yet powers yet, plain and simple. She can get where she needs to go a faster than before, her reflexes are maddeningly quick, but her time as Batgirl hasn't changed, not yet. She's not ready to, not when she knows something like superspeed can cause more hurt than good when it's not used properly. She's met up with Barry a few times, the basics are finally seeming more ..basic, but there's still so much room for improvement, without a doubt.

So when a fire starts in a multiplex just a few blocks down from where she's working at the library, her instinct is to be there, help. There's that split second of move, go that since she's gotten here, she's had to learn to control. But she's there in a heartbeat, just in time to watch another whirlwind of a speedster do what they do best. It's hard to tear her eyes away, to not take it as a learning experience, but she does. She zips to the nearest first aid kit and finds the people with minor injuries, the people who need help until the ambulance gets there, and does her part that way.

No mask, no costume. She's not Batgirl right now, she's Barbara Gordon, the imPort who was gifted with speed and was just there in the right place at the right time. Which.. actually feels really good. But she'll think about that later.

Once Max is done with his run ( done saving that whole building from burning down, damn ) he might notice Barbara running between the people who need medical attention, patching them up as best as she can until the professionals get there. But there's also that chance she's noticing him first, what with the sudden chorus of "thank you"s coming from the people who had mad it out of the building because of him. Barbara won't chime in until he's closer to where she's wrapping someone's arm with a bandage before joining in, but she so does.

"That was incredible. You're incredible."

Max noticed her flitting back and forth- it's hard not to, between the superspeed and red hair- but the focus is on getting the work done. Getting civilians out of the building and making sure it's clear. Isolating the fire. Pulling the area of the rooms in question and smothering the flames through a lack of oxygen. Funneling all the smoke out as much as possible (there's still a smoky smell in the parts of the building affected, but it's breathable in there, afterwards).

Eventually though, modestly replying to the thanks (it's never been about the praise, and definitely not the attention) he makes his way in her direction. His attention had been primarily on getting the building taken care of, but the brief seconds he had spent outside and seen her moving around, helping with first aid, had been enough.

"You didn't do too badly yourself." She really hadn't, though he can tell by her movements the superspeed is new to her.

Barbara isn't exactly the most modest person around, she does love when people acknowledge if she's done a good job, but she's realistic about things, and that's why even as she smiles, she's waving off the compliment.

"Thanks. I'm still learning what I can do with my speed, but I saw the smoke- Gotta do what I can, right?" It's weird, normally when she has to split up Batgirl from Barbara Gordon, it's in a negative way. A coping mechanism, a way to deal with making impossible decisions. But right now she's being so herself, it's hard not to consider that for a second. It's just so- honest. She's not used to it.

"You've obviously been at it for a while, right? Did you have your speed at home, too?"

"More than a while," Max admits, readily. "It helps to not have to adjust to something you already know." Like having to learn how to slow down again and not go crazy from it, or make the transition from moving faster than the blink of an eye to the same speed as a normal human and back smoothly.

"You had a good handle on the first aid out here." He had noticed that she had a steady hand for it, and had sorted who needed it the most earlier, when he was zipping in and out to pull people away from the building. Fires were always tricky- the easiest way to tell they were there was by the smoke, which already meant they had been going on for awhile.

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time isn't the same for everyone there is

Bart

Video response via communicator.

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Somewhere in Heropa maybe

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de chima!

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