Not A Very Scary Monster (J.D.)

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Wally did not like being at Hammel at all. He didn't like Pilot Ridge, he definitely did not like Vermont, and he certainly did not like being in any other state than the one he had grown up in. He'd had almost six months now to adjust to his new status as a meta-human and his new school/home, it was rough (an understatement). For a boy who already had such a hard time dealing with interruptions to his routine, it was almost way too much to ask of him to overcome. But....somehow, he was managing.

Managing, but only barely, currently he was tackling one of his biggest problems with the new environment. The weather. He'd managed to brave it through the winter with the thick clothing his parents had managed to buy and pack up for him before his departure, but they were beginning to approach the less harsh side of the season and he couldn't stay thickly bundled forever.

The major issues here being: 1) his sensitivity to the cold, and almost more restrictive was, 2) his dislike of heavy or tight clothing as well as the feel of certain fabrics. Typically, his mother or sisters would have been there to make sure he found some balance between his comfort and looking decent...Wally was at a loss for what to do without their input and found himself staring at racks of clothes.

The look on his face was different from his typical one of cheer, it looked like he was almost in pain, mixed with a severe confusion. This, however, was wiped away and replaced with frustration at the sound of plastic hitting the floor. "Not this again!" he cried out, whirling around to gather the computer mouse he had accidentally stored earlier that day, but it was quickly joined by a lone sock, and then a shirt. The number of items falling out only increasing with his growing irritation.

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Jared had to give credit where it was due. Hicksville, Vermont was civilized enough to have a mall that had more than just a few local businesses in it. Apparently some commercial bigwigs thought that the middle of nowhere was worth their time enough to actually spend some thousands (millions?) of dollars setting up shop. Jared would never have come to anyplace like this voluntarily, so the revelation was somewhat enlightening.

Only a little bit, though, because just because they had an Abercrombie didn’t mean that they had anything else. Like an arcade. Or a Go-Kart track. According to his sources, if he wanted that sort of thing, he’d have to somehow haul himself down to Burlington, some 50 minutes away by bus, and even then that was still just a large town masquerading as a small city.

Still, Jared found (barely) enough to keep him entertained. The local high school didn’t suck, though he was starting to think that everybody’s idea of after-school fun was going down to the lake and playing kick-the-can until dusk. Mind you, Jared had done that before, and it wasn’t half as interesting as it sounded. Jared decided to ditch the country bumpkins and cruise around the mall for a while. The ‘mall’, the length of it being only about half the size of a football field, he guesstimated, was about as exciting as he imagined. As in, it wasn’t.

The 14-year-old was browsing through the racks of some faux-name-brand store, thinking he was about ready to go home, when he heard the signs of distress. Followed by the sound of several things hitting the floor. Kid must’ve knocked over a display or something, he guessed, peering around the rack of clothes to spy on the commotion. (Anything was entertaining at this point, this place was lame).

Seeing the collection of items, though….those weren’t from this store, were they? With a sly smirk, he nodded to himself. So there were kids around here who weren’t always on the straight-and-narrow. This kid’s technique was terrible, though. “You a novice?” he called out to the other boy, keeping his voice low so as to not attract the attention of the sales associates. “If you’re gonna lift, you ain’t supposed t’let the stuff drop outta your jacket.” Though it was amusing how the stuff seemed to keep coming from nowhere. “You’re like one of those ninjas. You know, the ones who’re always hiding a buncha stuff in hammer-space.” He wondered if he had a hammer in there, along with the rest of that random crap. Jared could only hold on loosely to the clothing rack beside him as he struggled to not laugh too much. It was a challenge though.