Since one can't tube to a semi on the road, Chance had spent the night in one of the few dorm rooms and gorged himself in the cafeteria, mostly on food covered in gravy. He is currently leaning against a bannister, casually watching the morning activities.
Parker adds to Chance's talk about kings, "And the king of horror, Stephen King. There might not have been a single year in the past 3 decades one of his stories has not been turned into a movie, series or miniseries."
Chance laughs. "Well played, and fair. Can't forget the guy that gave us 'The Shining' and 'Stand By Me'."
"Chance Burton," he says to introduce himself as well as a friendly grip. "Seems that way."
”What’s the difference? I thought people in the atmosphere had different people and cities, no?” Uthor replies to the question with a question.
”He’s the king. He decides. I thought that the atmosphere had kings, too. No?”
"Sure, but I wouldn't say someone from Metropolis is a different species. Maybe Gotham. And the only kings we recognize are Elvis and Michael Jackson," Chance replies cheekily.
"What's the difference?," Chance asks with genuine curiosity as he stretches the cheese between two halves of a ham and swiss croissant. "And why does this king care where you are?"
Chance makes his way to the table with an amount of food that only a teenage boy would attempt to eat. "You had me at potatoes, cheese and gravy," he replies as he helps himself. He chews thoughtfully. "Wouldn't mind some bacon bits," he says with a grin.
Seeing fire burst up out of the ground, Chance will fire off a card at a nearby fire hydrant to create a violent jet of boiling water and steam. "Special of the day, boiled lobster!"
Chance slides down the side of the building (Wall-crawling). With a card in hand, he looks for an opportunity to help with distraction as he retreats with the others.
@DM: Anything or anyone not readily visible?
• Vision-Counters Concealment(5): This sense ignores all Concealment effects, regardless of descriptor. Concealed subjects seem slightly “off” to you, enough to know they are concealed to others.
• Vision-Penetrates Concealment(4): This sense is unaffected by concealment from obstacles.
Chance checks for any guards or cameras outside before approaching the building. If he doesn't see anything, he says, "I think that with a little run-up, I can manage." He follows that train of thought and does just that, parkouring up the wall, seemingly finding even the smallest handholds to use.
Chance returns the friendly handshake with a warm smile, as well as any others that are offered.
"Checking out some dusty old warehouse sounds easy enough. Yo, boss, can I have one of those?," he requests, indicating the earpieces. When offered, he puts it in. "Hey guys, can you hear me?", he asks still standing next to the group.
Chance swings his arms to stretch out his shoulders. "Shall we get going?"
In front of Zion High, an out-of-place big rig truck stops, its engine still chugging loudly. It has a distinct logo on the side that reads Pork Chop Express. The passenger side door opens and "Here I Go Again" blares out into the quiet neighborhood. A duffle bag flies out immediately followed by a large black garbage bag. A moment passes and a teenaged boy hops out. He is a good-looking kid with bright blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and a strong jaw. He is wearing well-worn cowboy boots, jeans and a sleeveless Harley Davidson t-shirt. He picks up the bags and turns back to the massive truck. His teen voice cracks as he calls out, "See you soon, Pops. Probably be kicked out in a week." He nudges the door shut with his shoulder before turning and heading into the school.
A sandy-haired teen slips into the room and cautiously approaches the group. Trying to not interrupt, he quietly asks, "Howdy all, Chance, is this for the newbies?"
