Greg Veder vs The World

Mob 5.1



Mob 5.1

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

April 17, 2011

2:16 PM

"You know, a girl has to wonder," Emma paused her sentence, spearing a rather juicy shrimp with her fork as she raised her head, "Just how are you paying for all this, Greg?"

"Hmm?" Blinking, the blonde stared across the table at Emma, mouth full of food. After eating in relative silence for the last few minutes, a probing question like that from Emma was… well, it was unexpected to say the least.

"Uhh… ummm, wh- how?"A quick swallow and a gulp of iced tea left him with his mouth free but his tongue still tied, Greg deciding to crack a slight joke in lieu of anything else to say."Well… -w-with money? How else would I pay for it?"

Green eyes regarded him curiously, the softest of smiles on the redhead's lips.

After a moment, she spoke up again, brushing down her poofy green blouse as she did so. "You're not a drug dealer, right, Greg?" Emma raised an eyebrow at him, lips pursed as the blond continued to blink at her. "Because I really can't go out with a drug dealer.

"No, no, no. No." Greg dropped his own fork and knife on his plate and shook his hands from side to side. "Why would you even think that? Drug dealer? Me?" He spluttered, shaking his head for a moment. "Come on, Emma. Do I look like a drug dealer to you?"

Emma's lips quirked upwards, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she continued staring at the boy across from her. "I don't think drug dealers really wear corduroys, so I guess not."

Greg glanced down at his trousers curiously. Why does everybody hate corduroys?

Emma didn't give him a moment to marinate over the general public's distaste for the fabric, continuing with, "Still, Greg, you do spend a lot of money. On our dates, on me, on… well, a lot of stuff."

"I don't…" The blond paused to clear his throat, shutting his eyes as he took another sip from his ice cold drink. "I don't think I spend that much money, honestly." Desperately trying to change the subject, Greg glanced down at his food again, once more picking up both fork and knife. "You're so silly, Emma but… uh… how are you liking the food?"

The redhead tilted her head to the side, raising her eyebrows slightly higher at Greg's awkward attempt to shift the conversation into a direction he felt far more comfortable with. "You know you're just giving me more questions."

Son of a… Greg sighed, one eye closed in a pre-emptive wince. "More?"

Emma shook her head slightly, raising the straw in the glass of water in front of her to her lips. As she let the white piece of plastic fall, she let out a sigh of her own. "Greg, sweetie, you're fifteen and you don't have a job. How do you just happen to have the money to pay for a thirty-eight dollar salad?"

With a slightly raised eyebrow of his own, Greg glanced down at the seafood salad that Emma was currently picking at, confusion on his face as he tried to parse the question. That thing is thirty-eight dollars? Jesus Christ on a cracker, these guys are running a scam here. I could eat that thing in like ten, maybe twelve, big bites.

"I mean, look at where we are," Emma continued, her voice low as she subtly gestured to the area around them. "This place looks expensive. How are you affording this?"

Greg glanced around, wondering what she was referring to. Several tables adorned with flowers and white tablecloths surrounded them, the entire room done in shades of white with long and wide elegantly folded pieces of cloth hanging from the windows. A few people here and there milled around at their tables as they enjoyed their food but for the most part, the place was nearly dead. Sure, it's kinda doing too much with all the decorations but I wouldn't call it expensive looking. Maybe elegant, I guess.

Truthfully, despite the fact that this place looked nicer, it was actually less expensive than where they had gone to on the last date so Greg really didn't understand what the big deal was. Still, he figured he had to say something.

Shaking his head, he stared back up at Emma and blinked as he simply replied, "Allowance."

The word left his mouth in a rush, Greg fighting the urge to wince as he said the first thing on his mind like so many times before. Oh great, now I have to explain that.

"...You don't have to lie to me, you know," Emma began, rolling her eyes.

I kinda do, Greg thought with a slight frown. Lie to your parents and your girlfriend. It comes with the whole superhero lifestyle. Lies, deceit and the American Way.

"You could have said anything else and I might have believed you," the girl continued, spearing another shrimp with the tines of her fork, "but 'allowance', Greg? Really? If you were getting that type of money as allowance, I'm pretty sure you'd be going to some boarding school in Europe or something."

Greg closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he did so. You know what, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm going to get as much mileage out of this as I can. "Well, you're right… it's not exactly my allowance."

"Thank you." Emma let out a grateful sigh, nodding her head. "See, you don't have to lie about it."

"It's allowance, birthday money, Christmas checks…" Greg wiggled his hand from side to side as he did his best to keep a straight face. "Basically all that type of stuff put together." How many half-truths can I push together until it makes a whole truth? You'd assume it would only take two but apparently, it doesn't work like that.

Emma raised her eyebrow again, the thing rising so far up her forehead Greg wondered if it would actually vanish behind her bangs. "Honestly?"

The boy nodded, closing his eyes again as he took another sip.

"Honestly," he lied.

In all fairness, he wasn't being all that deceitful. Greg did have a lot of money in a bank account that his parents had set aside for him since he was a toddler. If his mom was to be believed, though, he wouldn't see any sign of it before he hit eighteen. To be honest, Greg didn't think that was exactly fair but his mom always bought him the stuff he asked for so Greg had never felt like making a big deal about it.

"I still don't get this." Emma obviously wasn't quite convinced, though, as she continued her questioning with, "Isn't your mom a nurse?"

"She is, yeah," Greg nodded, poking at his steak with a fork, "but it's not like she actually needs the work. I mean, not really. Being a nurse was what she always wanted to do, I guess."

Emma's mouth pursed into a small 'o', the girl tilting her head to the side. An almost visible gleam came into her eyes, the girl looking absolutely entranced by Greg's words. "Are you seriously telling me that…" Emma paused, lifting a hand to her mouth as she continued in a more hushed tone of voice, "...you're rich?"

"Well, no." Emma blinked once again, obviously dumbfounded by Greg's sudden walkback of his previous statements.

"Not me, at least. I'm not rich but my Dad is," Greg replied flatly, glancing out the window for a moment. "...or was, I guess. I mean, he still kinda is but it's a long story and you probably don't wanna hear it anyway."

"What?" Emma's eyes widen in a look that Greg couldn't really parse, before she reworked her face into a smile and shook her head slowly. "Why wouldn't I want to hear about it? You're my boyfriend, right?" She fluttered her eyes at Greg, waiting for him to respond.

"Uhh… uh, right."

"Exactly. So, of course I want to know all about you," Emma continued, a hand on her chest. "What kind of girlfriend would I be if I wasn't curious? Now, spill."

"Well," The blond shrugged, turning back to stare at Emma again with the slightest of smiles on his face. "Okay... I guess. Well, uh, I guess I kinda have to go a bit further back to like… I guess, the 1930s, I think. Not super sure on this, but I think it definitely was sometime around there."

Confusion fluttered across Emma's face for a moment, only to be quickly replaced by an encouraging smile as she nodded for him to continue.

"Basically, my great-grandparents basically left Europe after World War I ended and came to America with like a ton of money. Don't ask me what they did to get it, I don't know. Like a couple years after World War II was over, they bought a shipping business and put a lot of money into it, made it bigger and became like Brockton Bay's biggest business back then, White Feather Line." Greg let out a slight hum and tipped his head to the side again. At least I don't have to lie to her about this stuff.

"Other than that… well, they just did a lot of boat-based stuff, I think. They weren't really big outside of anywhere past Boston but they were big enough that I'm pretty sure they also also owned a chunk of the Docks too, basically a ton of warehouses and… um, yeah. Anyway, skip ahead like fifty years to 1996 and my grandparents - not great, just… you know, the regular ones - are on vacation in Norway." Trying to recall all of this only deepened the frown on his face, Greg forced to remember all the times his father had gone on and on about their family with a tumbler of scotch in hand. "So, you can guess what happened when Leviathan showed up for the first time and sw-"

Greg paused, blinking as he realized he had been about to say 'swung his giant water lizard dick around'. Wow, that was close. I really gotta watch what I say sometimes.

+1 CHA

"That's…" Emma let out a slight gasp, her hand rising from her chest to her mouth. "That's so sad…"

"I mean, not really," Greg shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda, I guess but I mean, that was a long time ago."

"But," The girl across from him tilted her head at him, staring at Greg with questioning eyes. "...they're your grandparents."

Again, this elicited nothing but a shrug from the blond, Greg screwing up his mouth in an expression too conflicted to call an actual frown. "Yeah, but I was,barely, like, a year old when they died so it's not like I remember them."

As the redhead continued to stare at him, Greg shrugged once more, unsure how else Emma expected him to answer. "Anyway, with my grandparents missing and all the confusion with Leviathan showing up for the first time, Dad wasn't able to really take over the family business or get his parent's stuff yet. By the time he did, he barely managed to sell it for like almost nothing compared to what it was worth like half a year before. He had to sell off everything too, all the warehouses, all the ships and even my grandparent's house in Captain's Hill.

"I mean, god, he hated doing it, you know. My dad expected to inherit everything his parents and their parents builtand all of a sudden, he basically had to get rid of it all before it was worthless. God, you have no idea how much that man hated it." The blond let out a stream of air from his mouth, his neutral expression turning into a smile as he let out a small laugh with just the slightest note of bitterness.

"Either way, even after he divorced my mom, we've never been hard up for money. I mean, sure, the prenup basically kept her from getting half of everything but she got the house, the car and of course, me. Mom still gets alimony and she only works because she always wanted to be a nurse anyway. So, she basically buys me whatever I ask for anyway and I always get everything I want for my birthday and Christmas so… yeah."

"Wow." Emma blinked, green eyes wide as Greg's smile brightened in an instant, widening with the last word until he was basically grinning."That sounds like a lot to deal with it. Is your dad… Is he okay?"

"Dad?" Greg snorted, the sound leaving him as he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the guy's fine. He's living it up in Palm Beach right now. He does send me birthday money… and Christmas money, too," He punctuated the sentence with another snort, his smile fading away. Not that it matters when Mom won't let me even have it, anyway.

"It's almost always money, too. Rarely any actual gifts, cause why put in the effort, right? I mean, Dad's always thought money was a good substitute for actually…" The blond let out a sigh, raising a hand to scratch at his nose, "well, actually being a dad, I guess. I mean, either way, I'll end up with all his money when he finally kicks it, so… yay, me?"

Closing his eyes, the blond shook his head. Ughhh, what am I doing? Why'd I dump all that on her? Hell, why'd I add that last part? Now, I just sound like a greedy weirdo. Just change the subject, Greg. Change the subject.

"So, Emma, what about you?" Greg spoke up again, a grin back on his face as he opened his eyes. The blond spared a moment to glance down at the half-eaten steak on his plate before looking back to Emma, his appetite suddenly gone.

"Me?" Emma raised an eyebrow as her face shifted into a teasing expression. A finger roamed to the side of her mouth as she fluttered her eyes at the poor boy. "What else do you want to know about little old me?"

"W-w-well," Greg stammered slightly, clearing his throat after a single moment of silence, "how'd your modeling thing go on Friday?" His smile brightened slightly with the question, thinking that he'd finally found a safe subject.

"Actually," Emma's eyes flicked up, the girl glancing at the ceiling before looking back at Greg with a wry smile, "It didn't work out all that well."

"Uhhh," Blue eyes shot her a slightly worried look. "Did something… happen?

"The company I model with barely has any jobs for me anymore and it's…" Emma rolled her eyes, visibly sighing as she leaned against Greg, "It's getting to me a little."

"Wait," Greg blinked, leaning away from Emma to look her in the eyes. "Why wouldn't they want you to model for them?"

"Apparently, I'm not the type of girl they're looking for right now. Basically, I'd be lucky to get anything else until I graduate." She let out a slightly bitter laugh, a single hand covering her mouth for a moment. "They just don't want me anymore, I guess."

"What?" This was enough to throw Greg off entirely, the blond trying to wrap his head around how Emma somehow wouldn't be pretty to someone. "Are they frickin' nuts? You're beautiful. You could be on a hundred magazines!"

Emma shot Greg a look with her lips pursed, eyes gleaming in a way that sent a tingle down the blond's spine. "A hundred? Me? Really?"

"Really." Greg nodded fiercely, desperate to make sure Emma understood how serious he was being. "If it was up to me, you'd be on the cover of every magazine."

+1 CHA

Emma let out a giggle, her smile shifting from bitter to amused. "Oh, you're just saying that."

"I really am not," Greg replied, shaking his head. "Why would they even say that they don't want you? You're perfect model material."

"Not exactly," Emma's smile disappeared for a moment as she let out a huff. Both of her hands went to her chest, stopping just short of cupping it as she stared up at Greg. "Yeah, these are out for high fashion models. They want girls looking like tall 10 year olds forever for those jobs and the ones I would be good for, I'm too young for. Ridiculous, right?"

"Yeah, ridiculous," Greg began, his mouth suddenly dry as the blond did his best not to stare below Emma's neckline. He leaned back in the booth, face gaining a light dusting of red as he turned his face away from her before she could see.

Think, Greg. Be cool. What can you say that won't sound creepy?

Before he could come up with anything, Greg blinked as something brushed up against his arm, his eyes opening wide as he felt the same something slide all the way down to his lap. His face reddened as Emma pressed up against his side, having slid across the booth in the short seconds he had looked away.

"You know," Emma whispered, "If it was anyone else, I'd think they were just trying to talk me up." Her lips quirked up into an alluring smile as she turned her head to look directly at Greg. "Get me to like them because they want me to… loosen up, you know what I mean."

Greg very much did, if the rapid beating of his heart was any metric to go by.

"Uhh… no, I'd never… never do that."Blue eyes blinked rapidly, his breathing getting quicker as Emma leaned closer against him in the booth, her hand still resting on his thigh. The hand let go of him before returning back in the form of a finger, Emma's digit quickly tracing a lazy finger onto his thigh.

"No," Emma smiled, another manicured hand coming up to caress the side of his face with a soft palm, "you really mean everything you say, you know. I can see it on your face."

Why do people keep saying th- "Hahahaa," Greg let an awkward laugh spill out of his mouth as one of his legs inched over the other at Emma's continued touch, the corduroy rubbing together as Greg slowly crossed his legs in a way so as not to draw Emma's attention to his lower body.

I need to… He blinked again, licking his lips nervously as the girl next to him continued to squeeze his leg with surprising firmness.

I need to be calm here, Greg thought to himself, well aware that he was not at all calm. I need to th- Ohhhhh, she's squeezing again! Shuddering at the touch that inched a bit too close to his upper thigh, Greg did his best to lean away. Why did I get a private booth? Why did I payfor a private booth? These are the important questions here.

The blond shuddered again as Emma tilted her head up, capturing Greg's mouth on her own and pulling him down as her hand held onto the back of his head. Think, Greg! What would Sparky say?

'Romeo, oh Romeo… keep thy dick in thy pants.'

Greg marveled at the odd thought. Would Sparky ever say that?

Most of Greg couldn't find it in him to even care about what Sparky would or would not do as Emma's grip on his hair tightened further, pulling him deeper into her kiss.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Emma Barnes was enjoying herself.

That was something she never had imagined she would ever think with her tongue in a boy's mouth, at least past the first few seconds. Most of the mouth breathers that chased after her were always far too forceful with everything they did past that point, bringing the enthusiasm of a football field into their interactions with her. Far too enthusiastic, really, almost as if they thought she had given them permission to do whatever they wanted.

It was frustrating and more than a little annoying that the cutest boys often treated her like she was a piece of meat, only caring about her as long as they could hope to make it to second base. The fact that Greg Veder, of all people, was the one person who she actually didn't mind locking lips with was another thing she could never have imagined.

It wasn't just the fact that he was a cape. A cape with powers that she was still not sure of, sure, but Emma wasn't going to deny that the boy she was currently kissing had some sort of powers. It also wasn't the fact that Greg seemed to be a never-ending font of money, considering the extremely expensive phone she had seen him with today, and was apparently - potentially - loaded, either.

It wasn't even the fact that he was actually kinda cute, his look and behavior reminding her of a golden retriever puppy she used to dogsit for one of her neighbors.

No, it wasn't any of those.

Or, maybe it was all of those. Emma couldn't really say for sure.

Regardless of the specifics, Emma Barnes actually liked Greg Veder and she could no longer deny that as much as she could deny the actual color of her own hair.

The redhead pulled away from him, hands trailing through his hair as she winked at him, licking her lips slightly. Wide blue eyes stared back at her, Greg looking more stunned than anything as he looked back at her with a glazed expression.

She couldn't lie. The sight was like a booster shot to her ego, the fact that she could make this cape completely and utterly hers with just a few touches, kisses and whispered words.

Tight muscles trembled ever so slightly as she pressed herself up against him, the memory of one of their last date strong in her mind. Greg may have looked scrawny in his usual clothes, mostly baggy shirts, long-sleeves, and hoodies, but underneath all that, the boy was one solid hunk of muscle. These muscles, Emma knew for a fact, were the same muscles strong enough to damage a machine designed to be battered by thousands of people just because her date couldn't help but impress her.

Idly, Emma wondered if they ever fixed that Whack-a-Mole machine.

The thought was driven from her mind as Greg pushed back slightly, his mouth meeting hers in a kiss that sent a jolt of passion through her. As passionate as it was, Emma couldn't shake the feeling that Greg was holding back something.

After a moment, she realized what it was.

Greg's hands seemed to be sticking out ramrod straight at his sides, almost like a robot with how stiff he seemed.

Now, that wouldn't do.

Not even bothering to pull away from the kiss, Emma grabbed the boy's hands and pushed them low on her waist until his palms were just hugging her hips.. There we go.

As her tongue dove further into his mouth and she pushed him up against the back of their private booth, Emma felt the blond's movements still, his hands inching away from where she had placed them until they were at his sides again. Unable to fight a groan as Greg pulled away again, the redhead stared into his eyes.

Green met blue, a slight tinge of annoyance visible in the former eliciting a slight wince from the latter. Aware of Emma's ire, Greg let out a nervous laugh and stared back at her, an awkward smile growing across his face.

"Wow. So, uh, Emma… Uh, not that I'm not like, a big fan of this whole situation right now, but…" Emma raised an eyebrow as Greg paused, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips, her lip gloss still visible on his mouth. "Uh, uh, well… uh, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing right now."

Unable to help her annoyance at Greg's continued interruptions of the moment, Emma growled her displeasure. Granted, the sound came off as more sensual than angry but it had the effect of shutting Greg up regardless. Placing a hand on his undeniably well-muscled torso, a practiced smile grew across Emma's face.

The redhead leaned forward, her smile only increasing as Greg shuddered when her chest met his, and whispered into his ear, "You could just shut up and let me show you."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

"You could just shut up and let me show you."

Oh my god.

The first thought on his mind was surprisingly borne of terror, rather than eagerness. The level of implications that Emma managed to fit into ten words was admirable, if it didn't also send a slight shiver down Greg's spine. Greg wasn't sure when he had realized this but he had recently begun to feel a bit more aware of certain things, namely the looks Emma often gave him and the way she acted. It wasn't too long ago that he wouldn't even have noticed certain things she did, but now, they tended to make him squirm more than a little, creating butterflies in his stomach where there were none before.

Frankly, he blamed both his WIS and CHA for this, creating even more problems for him.

The teenage boy blinked again, mouth open as Emma grabbed hold of his hands and placed them firmly on her waist. Both of his hands were stiff and clammy as they rested on the girl's hips, the blond's feeling of stress intensifying as Emma purposely lowered herself into his lap, her knee-length purple skirt pooling around her. Oh no.

As her behind met the fabric of his trousers, she grabbed hold of his collar and pulled Greg up until he was sitting straight against the booth and she leaned in close again. "See? Isn't that better?"

Rendered unable to cross his legs by Emma's weight, he couldn't find it in him to agree with the redhead. Oh no.

His breath came in a quick sharp gasp as he felt Emma's breath on his neck, the girl continuing to whisper things that Greg could not pay the slightest bit of attention to, far too focused on the movements she was making in his lap.

"Em… em… E-Emma… could we… uhh… maybe n-not do this h-h-here?" His stuttered breathing made it that much harder to talk, the situation made even worse as his voice jumped up an octave when Emma somehow placed even more pressure on his lap.

"Why?" She didn't pull away as she spoke, her voice a breathy giggle. Greg let out another breath as he felt her hands in his hair again, a light kiss on his cheek eliciting another soft giggle. "What's wrong with here?"

"P-people can see us."

"It's a private booth, Greg," Emma pulled away slightly, shooting Greg a look that told him she wouldn't be dissuaded. "They can't see anything from this angle."

I feel like they can hear, though, was the lone thought that went through Greg's mind. He didn't get a chance to voice it, though, as Emma's lips met his again. Whatever conscious thought he had faded into a haze, Greg getting lost in whatever Emma was making him feel.

His eyelids slowly began to shut as Emma gripped the back of his head again, pulling him deeper into a kiss that he had no control over. Greg's eyes finally began to flutter closed as he fully relaxed, his hands easing around Emma's back, only for him to shudder violently and pull away from the kiss, taking in a deep gulp of air.

Kissing Lvl Up!

9→10

Breath-Holding Lvl Up!

14→15

Wha- He didn't have a moment to complete the thought as he shuddered again as if stepping outside on the coldest day of winter with no jacket. Wide blue eyes stared past Emma, Greg suddenly struck with a deep sense of fear as he tried to think for a moment. That was… That was my...

Before another shudder could hit him, Greg turned to the confused redhead in his lap who was staring at him questioningly as Greg put a sudden end to their makeout session. Greg shook his head, quickly breaking out into a smile that was far more nervous than it was reassuring. "Emma, w-we gotta go. We… we can't be here right now."

He didn't even give her a chance to say anything, simply plucking her out of his lap and placing her down next to him as Emma gave a sudden yelp of surprise once she realized what Greg had just done. Apparently not willing to waste a single moment, the blonde emphasized his point by patting the seat rather quickly. "Come on, Emma!"

The blonde slid across the circular booth until he could finally stand up and quickly dropped a few fifty dollar bills on the table, enough to cover the costs of their food and then some. Licking his lips nervously as he stared back at Emma as she began to get up from the booth herself, one hand gripping her small purse, Greg was suddenly glad that he had the foresight to remove the money from his inventory ahead of time. "Emma, let's go."

Just like that, the blond started walking at a rather quick pace, his gaze focused directly on the exit and the white-suited maitre'd standing there. In just a few seconds, he had walked past two tables of adults, both of them shooting him appraising looks as if wondering what an underdressed adolescent was doing in such a respectable eating establishment.

Before the blond could even take another step, he felt a relatively hard tug on his arm, Greg coming to a conscious stop at the feeling. Forcing himself to ignore the feeling of another slight shudder down his back, Greg turned around to face Emma, despite being well aware that he could easily have tugged back on her arm and pulled her along with him. His worried expression quickly shifted to confused as he stared into Emma's face as she looked back at him with an expression that was equal parts smug, seductive and teasing.

"Something wrong?"

The girl rolled her eyes, holding fast to Greg's arm as he continued to slightly tug her forward, trying his best not to do anything that would attract too much attention. "I should be asking you that. Are you that nervous about a little PDA that you want to go somewhere else that badly? We didn't even finish eating yet."

"Emma," Greg began, his expression falling apart as the girl continued to give him a knowing look. Just go with it, man. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know what? That's exactly it. I'm super nervous about kissing in public and it's just too weird for me so,uh..."

Greg let out a nervous laugh, one dress shoe tapping nervously against the restaurant's carpeted floor as he glanced around to the two nearest groups of people watching the drama playing out. Should I warn them? Can I warn them? How am I supposed to-

Shaking his head to push away the worries over people he had never met, Greg turned back to his primary focus and shot the girl what he hoped was a pleading smile. "Can we please get out of here? Like right now?" Greg made to tug Emma's hand with the last word only for the redhead to let go of his hand, folding her arms over her ample chest as if scolding Greg for even trying.

"There's barely anyone in here, Greg", Emma replied, rolling her eyes again. She cast a glance at the nearest table, shooting them a glare fierce enough to convince the foursome to pay attention to their food. "And they're all adults. They've been young before. Just sit back down and stop being weird."

Greg's fists clenched at his sides, the blond struggling to breathe as he held himself back from just throwing Emma over his shoulders and making a run for it. Holding back the urge to scream, he stepped forward slightly, Emma taking several quick steps back in response. The teasing smile on her face told Greg that she was goading him, trying to lead him back to their table.

"Em- Emma", Greg pleaded, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to convince the redhead to listen to him in a way that wouldn't sound insane.

It really did not help that Emma only responded back in a sing-song tone of voice, purposely teasing him. "What is it, Greg?"

"We have to go right now. Seriously, you have to listen to me. It's-"

Emma let out a slight hum, interrupting Greg's pleading as she tapped her chin with her pointer finger, winking at Greg as she did so. "I'll listen if you sit back down."

Oh my god, why won't you listen? I'm trying to keep you saf…

Blue eyes widened as another shiver went down Greg's back, the blonde feeling a definite chill as something seemed to change in the air.

The blonde looked up, noticing that Emma seemed to have felt something as well as she glanced around like Greg. Not only her, nearly everyone else in the restaurant seemed to have noticed an odd shift in the environment.

"Oh, this is not good."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Greg stumble slightly as the entire restaurant building seem to shake, several people - Emma included - letting out startled noises.

Greg's eyes widened further, stumbling back and away from Emma as another sudden tremor seemed to hit the building, followed by a noise like a crack of thunder. The startled noises turned to screaming and Greg whipped around, trying to figure out what was causing all of this and setting off his Danger Sense like crazy. An earthquake? Brockton Bay doesn't get earthquakes!

Before he could do so much as let out a shout of his own to warn everyone to run, a thrumming noise was heard from all directions, and the sound of something cracking apart caught Greg's attention, the blond raising his gaze to the ceiling. He let out a gasp, glancing back down to the girl several meters away from him as she stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Emma! RUN!"

The ceiling split apart above their heads with a sound that Greg couldn't even think to compare to anything else, the entire building seeming to rumble one more time as sunlight poured into the restaurant from above. Before he could even move, an intense flash of light, brighter than any he had ever seen before seared into his vision.

The scream was torn from his lungs as Greg was suddenly knocked off his feet, something striking his body all over several times with force intense enough to knock the air out of him as it sent him to the ground. The entire restaurant was silenced in seconds, similar screaming voices quieting instantly as the entire building collapsed on top of them in a rain of debris.


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