Adrian liked mornings, usually, if all the factors met up. Adequate sleep. Temperature. Cause of awakening. If not, then no, he didn't think so. Mornings were filled with coffee wafting through open, flailing windows, though in actuality it tasted like absolute garbage, and waffles. Possibly waffles. He didn't have time for that shit, making breakfast every morning. Who the hell actually wakes up at four just to make waffles in time to leave. It takes hours to make and figure out the batter, then not screw them up. Nope. A better alternative was stopping by Starbucks for tea and a sandwich, or something.
Mornings were blissfully quiet, no other souls in a somewhat small house. He pried his face from a brown comforter, which had moth shapes decorating it's exterior, which was on the floor, on the opposing side of the room from his bed. Casual mornings. Soft clouds illuminated his room through a yawning window, carrying the scent of... vague ominous seasonal muffins, specifically. Oh okay. Deciding to aim for the bathroom, with intent of a shower, he then walked suddenly, and blindingly towards the doorway, falling sideways, promptly smacking his face against the wall.
"I see," he said, carrying on.
Out of the shower he fixed his bed and found a grey button-up to throw on, paring it with brown trousers and a pair of black boots. He shoved a cactus into his bag,
"This will come in handy in the future," He whispered.
A loud knock echoed through his house, causing him to jump in spook. Peeking from the window to insure his life stability, and it not being taken by a murderer, he luckily spotted a familiar face; a boy with black hair his age.
"Yes hello, I would like to talk to you about Norbert Ferdinand the 2nd," Desperation in his eyes.
"Of course,"
"I don't think that he's doing too well these days."
"Really?"
"When I woke up this morning he seemed even more lifeless than usual, he hasn't been bearing fruit this season,"
"Norbert Ferdinand the first requires to not be in direct sunlight so I do suggest doing the same."
"Thank you for your insight." He turned, on his way to nurture his plant.
Adrian closed the door, opening it again after realizing he must leave as well. So on his way he went, to do things.
The Oatmeal Famine
The mourning doves' morning sing-song carried along the winds, through the leaves of trees on the corners of streets. Something was off on this fine morning, however - a sudden quagmire in the day-to-day nature of the city of Prickly Pearis. Unsettling… chilling, even. An unabolished sense of dread. Something was off, wrong. It was no simple urk in the back of Pearisians minds, it was a stab, a violent stab. The unbearable tick of a silent clock. And as the world slowly slipped into insanity, three people stepped out into the open air, ready to start their day, unaware that the apocalypse was upon them.
Today was a fine day for relaxing, Adrian thought, and ordered a Chai Tea Latte from the nearest Skcubrats, and a sweet, sweet tomato mozzarella panini. He took his place beside a wide window to watch the world do things. The boy noticed how the grocery store down the street was a tad crowded. Skcubrats was normally bustling and lively, filled with people. But today it was empty, eerily empty.
He watched as a man clutched a bright yellow umbrella in his quivering hands, his eyes twitching and dark circles lined underneath. A woman kneeled on the ground, her head gripped in her shaking arms. A hooded figure shoved oatmeal into their pants. Besides the off feeling that something was not right deep in his soul, he saw a citizen in desperate need. A man chased a kid in intense pursuit across the street. This was terrorism and it would not go unpunished. He shoved the panini into his face and smashed open the door, proceeding in a mad dash to a bush.
Marla was speeding down the street on her bike, on her way to a piano audition that she was nearly 5 minutes late to. She rode down the bumpy sidewalk, the cool air straining her tired lungs as she whispered to herself that she was almost was when she felt her bag vibrate. Knowing what message awaited her, she dove off of her moving bicycle and straight into a ditch.
They were just normal people with normal lives, but what people don't know is that, they all shared one secret. And a secret weapon, that was a secret.
Adrian burst from the bush, fist pumped high in the air. He wore a red cape with the shape of a potted cactus embedded, socks, a black mask, a sash that held prickly pear gas bombs, and finally, a glorious cactus speedo.
"I am Nam Sutcac, Defender of Justice, Banisher of Evil! And I have a secret weapon, that is a secret!"
Nam Sutcac thrust his hips to the side, spun, looking to the skies, he shouted "Dream Team, unite!"
Marla punched a fist into her bag to pull out a music sheet and jumped to her feet. She shoved it into the air and sparkles consumed her.
"I am Onaip Lirg, and my purpose is to fight against the forces of evil!" A white mask appeared on her face, as well as a black cape rimmed with piano keys. It fell to her ankles in a swift movement to complete the transformation. Before she knew it she was airborne, throwing piano keys into the air where they grew to the size of steps.
"A quick stop to the store won't do any harm," Mom said, pulling into a nearby Erots Yrecorg parking lot.
"Only if I get to stay in the car," Meredith smiled, hoping her mom would agree to it.
Mom sighed, "fine, but lock the doors. It's a mad world out there." She proceeded to slam the driver's side door and walk through the packed and manic chaos of the lot.
As soon as Mom was out of sight, the radio was on and vibrating at almost full blast.
Nowadays, the radio was all "teen pop", just electronically edited voices and instruments played by trained professionals instead of the artist. It was a heaping pile of bull crap. 80s and 90s music was more Meredith's type: Green Day and Blink-182, however stereotypical other people thought they were. They are famous for a reason.
But, in the blink of an eye, a child slammed into the front of her car. Not by force, like a shove or hit, but he flashed by as if being chased by a bloodthirsty lion. Well, it wasn't a lion he was running from; a man quickly followed in pursuit, shouting words of profanity and threats at the child.
At that very moment, her phone buzzed. Once, twice, three times, the screen pulsing red with each vibration. Oh, no, not right now please, Meredith thought, certain of the oncoming dread but hoping that it just was not right now.
She picked up the sticker-covered silver phone.
"Dream Team assemble. Effect of immediately. Street Road, burglary and theft. Danger: 3," the alert read.
Meredith groaned. "Not right now, not right now." But of course, all she needed to do was remove her shirt and pants in order to take care of this, because don't all superheroes wear their suits under their outfits?
The outfit consisted of a black bodysuit, a little bit too tight than what Meredith preferred, but the inside was fuzzy (which nobody else knew about) so it was enjoyable to wear. The matching black combat boots fit perfectly and were somehow always available, no matter when the call came. Completing the look was a cape, classic for superheroes, except they didn't usually have a celebrity posted to it, nevertheless two of them. Hence the name, Steve Degeneres, as half of the face was Steve Harvey, and the other was Ellen Degeneres. It was too long of a story for Meredith to explain to anybody, nor did she ever really want to.
Suddenly, Onaip Lirg slammed into the ground beside him with Steve Degeneres, who had also just recently arrived at the scene. Steve Degeneres was the most beautiful woman to have ever walked the face of the earth, her flowing brown hair went unmatched.
"'-And we are, the Dream Team!" Their voices combined in unison as they formed a Sick Pose. They ran into the street, and all in a flash, Onaip Lirg outstretched her hand, releasing a blast of piano tiles at the man initially in chase of the kid. The noise of smashing piano keys rang through the air. Steve Degeneres tackled the man, and Nam Sutcac, halfway across the street, got hit by a car.
The man had been yelling something about how his wallet had been stolen, but that wasn't important: Justice had been served. Another day saved.
The empty building had a large, gaping hole blasted in it from the piano key blasts' collateral damage. A key fell with a tiny "clack" in the distance. Onaip Lirg planted her feet on the man's back, her cape waving gloriously in the wind with raw justice, gleaming at another one of the team's victories. Nam Sutcac unstuck his cactus speedo from the car and got smacked in the face by the wind swept yellow umbrella.
The three walked casually down the street, capes swishing behind. The clouds blocked the sun out of the sky. It was a fine day to go on a walk, they had all agreed on. The plan was to go buy ice cream, but that was a fate the world had not planned for them. An angry mob of citizens gathered at a market, flooding the streets. A woman fell to her knees and grabbed Steve Degeneres' boot's in dire need.
"Please," she pleaded, "please help us, the oatmeal famine has struck, it's our staple food here in Prickly Pearis, I need to feed my children substenance, and it's… gone" she broke into tears, releasing Steve's boot, crumbling to the ground in anguish.
The population was on the brink of insanity, society, crumbling like a feeble, delicate graham cracker. It was time, once more, for the Dream Team to grace the world with its presence.
"I know who's behind this," Nam Sutcac whispered. "There's only one way this could have happened…"
Suddenly, the wind halted in its very tracks, the streets fell silent, and bone marrow was chilled.
Onaip Lirg's eyes grew as a wave of dread washed over her, "It's… got to be…"
"That's right, Meneral Gills!" A voice declared from the roof of the market. "Heir to the Oatmeal business, cripplingly terrifying villain and world-wide terror!" The shoppers gasped in horror, yet too desperate for Oatmeal to run away as Meneral Gills, Heir to the Oatmeal business, villain and world-wide terror loomed over them, a black silhoutte.
"I'm the one who increased the oatmeal prices to $80; I'm the one who claimed that the oatmeal business would shut down for good; I left everyone to wallow in their emptiness!"
Steve Degeneres stepped out of the shadow of a larger building, and floated to the ground. The beautiful picture of Steve's cape flapped in the wind as she descended. Another collective gasp echoed. Steve then ripped her cape off, throwing it to the ground. A chain reaction took place, and in an instant, a red cloud of smoke whirled around their once beloved comrade.
The smoke cleared to reveal the true face of Meneral Gills. A cereal box covered her head with her company logo in the center, a gold cape pooled on the ground behind her. A very long cape, she might even trip on it if she wasn't careful.
The two heroes wiped gentle tears from their eyes, yet they realized that when disaster struck, they had to protect, even if it meant fighting against who they thought was their best friend.
"I am Meneral Gills, and I will finally prove to you two just how much stronger I am than you petty weaklings!" Then, Meneral Gills sprung into action, a brick flew into her hand, and she chucked it at Sutcac. The bricks from surrounding buildings disconnected and flew after the first. He and Onaip Lirg formed what could be the last Sick Pose and attacked in unity. Onaip released a burst of piano tiles at the villian, and Nam Sutcac swished his cape then fabricated a potted cactus from nowhere, his secret weapon. He pried a prickly pear from his sash and threw it at the bricks, exploding in a pink puff of smoke and thoroughly confusing them, they plummeted to the ground instead of finding their target. Meneral Gills was blasted through the wall, but she jumped back into battle, cartwheeling over and dodging a roundhouse kick.
But the effects of Oatmeal deprivation backfired on Meneral Gills. Those who ate oatmeal as a staple food must consume it once every two hours. It appears that Nam Sutcac and Onaip Lirg's secret identities did not eat Oatmeal, and they were the only two in the whole of the city that remained unaffected. Nam Sutcac held a potted cactus, still.
Meneral suddenly looked at all the people lined up for oatmeal - she had not eaten it in FOUR hours. She needed oatmeal. The people were flooding every street, blocking her from reaching her own hoarded supply at her home. It was too much. She sank to the ground with the feeling of overwhelming sad. Foiled by her own plan, she realized she may not have thought this out thoroughly. And that was it, that was what finally drove the evil Meneral Gills, heir to the oatmeal business and world-wide terror, to give in to the power of raw justice.