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Rysen was at the store, not at all unusual. Everyone needs supplies and food and all the annoying necessities. What was unusual was the time of day. Very few decide to do their shopping in the dead of night. He was one of those very few, not that he would ever willingly admit it to another soul aside from a cashier paid far too little for the bullshit they put up with on a regular basis. He just needed the usual things; coffee, creamer, sugar, bread, peanut butter, the works. A fruit or two maybe.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d brought his wallet along.
Fuck, not again.
Last time he forgot his wallet they put all his items back before he even got to his apartment. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should take that personally. Never mind that for now.
His hands jammed into his pockets, barely keeping from frantically emptying them onto the self-checkout in front of him. His old burner phone, yet to be burned. Pocket lint, been meaning to clean that out. Pocket knife, fitting comfortably in hand yet not in public view. Lucky coin fifty cent coin, loved it, but he was in a near constant argument with himself as to whether or not it was too cheesy for a villain to carry around. Heads or tails decides your fate and all that jazz. Ho, and his lucky rock! And his lucky marble… maybe he had just one too many ‘lucky’ items. Ow, damnit, old toothpick. He’d have to pick up some more at a later date, he was too lazy to go back now. Caffeine gum, a must when on the go. Old wrappers from said gum, been meaning to clean those out too. No wallet, however. Where could it be?
The man checked his back pockets, despite the fact that he never stuck anything in them. Nope, nothing. Left cargo pocket? Again, nothing. Right cargo pocket? Of course, where he always put it. He needed some sleep. Well, need certainly, want was a different matter entirely. He preferred to keep the nightmares at bay for as long as he possibly could. They were… less than pleasant. Of course they were, they were nightmares. No one likes a nightmare. Not even horror flick junkies. Ok, well, maybe some of them, but none that he had met. Not that he cared to familiarize himself with the people he met in the first place. No surprise there. It would surprise some people though, some people who knew him a long time ago.
Shit, speaking of which, contact ten o’clock moving right. Now twelve o’clock.
Julia. He’d recognize that hair from anywhere at any distance. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she shopping at midnight? Why was she… so damn pretty?
No. No, no time for that. Not now. Not ever. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. This was just supposed to be a shopping trip, not a game of hide and seek. Her bag swayed with the motion of her arm as she walked. There was a smile on her lips, but it never reached her eyes, not like her usual self. There were bags under them too, the whole deal more than a little concerning. It was always the subtle details which spoke the most truth. Before he could even consider (rather foolishly) to walk up and say something, however, she vanished through the automatic doors.
Phew. He was free to stand up again, though he could feel a pair eyes or two resting on him. It was more than… a little uncomfortable to be the subject of anyone’s attention. Not that it mattered, he could just make them forget they ever saw anything, and he did just that.
Now, time to pay. He flipped his wallet open (in a rather dramatic fashion). A fake ID… another one… a third. How many of these things did he have? That credit card didn’t belong to him. Neither did that one. Then there was a nice, standard pre-paid in there too. He decided to use that one as using stolen cards too often was more than a little dangerous.
Before he swiped, however, he was overcome with curiosity. Cursed memories coursed through his skull and he did his best to force them out. It didn’t always work, but this time he was successful.
The telepath gazed from one side to the other then back again, making sure there were no more onlookers (of course there weren’t it was midnight) before cautiously unzipping the very top of his hoodie, pulling down the collar of his shirt, and offering the barcode upon his skin to the red light of commerce as if it were a tribute to an elder god of old. A beep, and then yet another cost upon the screen.
101 Bananas $69.69
Nice