Staging
“It’s a fixer upper, she said.”
“It is a fixer upper!”
“Luna, I realize that we need a new base of operations after Racer Death blew through our old one with his murder car, but this is a burnt-out brownstone, not a place with ‘potential’.”
“It’s got good bones!”
“It’s condemned and leaning ten degrees to the north!”
“Yeah, but for Manhattan it’s dirt cheap!”
Luna Fuega and Qilin, discussing a potential site for a new base.
"Eh..." Ryan wiggled his hand in a 'kind of' manner. "The suit would qualify, if Wish sold super-suits, but we don't do the fancy custom look thing." He opened his phone and pulled up a picture of them in matching outfits that resembled motorcycle armor, just in different bright colors. "This is what we use. It's protective to a fair degree and some hard armor sections for those places that most need it. We wear helmets so we can mount lights and cameras on them, and often take night vision with us too. If you can't avoid a trap, it's better that the trap leaves a bruise than a hole. Plus they have lots of pockets to carry little tools and extra flashlights with us."
"It might look a little basic, but my wife is a Tailor, public face but still uses the good stuff."
“Oh, that explains it. I thought it was part of your brand, as it makes you look much more professional than other people. That’s one of the reasons why you were my first choice to reach out to. How much do you want for the job, I can bill my boss. She’s pregnant, so she’s dumping all the hard jobs on me, including this.”
"We'll put it on the invoice." He chuckled. "About a grand or so, not counting secondary gear that needs replacing if you break it."
"It'd cost more, but Cassidy gets the materials wholesale." Emilia chuckled.
“Hey, I work on commission, I am all about the discounts. Now what other fees are we looking at? Because I know filming is an important aspect, I did look into the site. There are no other videos of Mr. Lizards home. Unfortunately, there’s also never been a lair identified, either.”
"There wouldn't be people looking into his real ID post-mortem. He wasn't A-list and went off the radar too long ago for the internet set. I doubt it occurred to anyone to look into him even if they had heard his name." Ryan said, thinking. "And assuming there's no weird monster stories coming out of that area, I mean other than the Lake Superior Dragon, anything he's bred is likely not running around the property. Slicer beasts tend to get noticed, if only due to the people shaped holes they make."
"On the positive front, a lot of traps will have failed just by being left unattended, most likely. Or tripped by a household pest." Emilia pointed out.
“So, I pay for the gear and with access to filming the house, we’re set?”
"Yeah, we get the video rights, and you agree to appear. If this works out, maybe we can do more real estate jobs. Pay some bills around here." Carl said.
"We generally make our money by salvaging tech left behind. It's shockingly valuable. That and the video income, of course."
“I’ll have to talk to Hannah about salvage rights, but I think that should be okay when talking about weird super stuff. My understanding is she purchased the property ‘as is’ so step one is going to be getting rid of anything without value, or that is dangerous, Then go through and get rid of everything else by donating it, trashing it, or consigning it with our friend Becky.”
"What consignment shop is that? Just so I can avoid it, just in case we donate something with teeth?" Emilia said, leaning on Ryan, glancing up at him. "This could be fun."
"Hopefully it's boring as hell, and we have to explain why supervillains don't trap their own damn houses while running spooky music and over reactions to mice." He chuckled. "But when have things ever been that simple?"
“Hey, Becky gets some great stuff, and she upcycles I bet she’d make something freaky for Halloween if we gave her something with teeth.” Lisa said with a chuckle. “I might have crumbled and bought a candy pink and black set of Avon bubble bath cats that were turned into lamps that she had made.”
“I can’t imagine that. Are they creepy or awesome. I could imagine it going either way.” Carl said.
“Awesome, or so I think anyway.”
"Since we're doing this at your request, we'll invoice for some time and destroyed equipment, but nothing too major. Besides, he was a splicer, so I doubt there’s much to recover.” Ryan said. “But for your boss’s purposes, just compare it to paying for a home inspection, just taking potentially longer."
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“I can agree to that.” She looked at the team. “Tell you what; to sweeten the deal I’ll also cook a couple of meals for us to eat out there. Looking at the take-out containers in your trashcans, you could use something home made before you die of MSG poisoning.”
"That actually sounds amazing. Go ahead and pack your bags and get the groceries you'll need for the next few days. We'll get everything else together and do the research on the way. Fortunately, our RV is comfy!"
“Okay, will do. How long do you think we will need to cover the property thoroughly?”
"If it's just a house, a day or two considering the property size. If it's a horrible trap fest, could be a week or two. I doubt we're talking something like a volcano death-laser base. And no, I’ve never seen one of those.
“So pack enough food and clothing for three days. If it takes less time, you can take the leftovers home.” Lisa mused. “Hannah already called, so the electricity is good to go. When do you want to leave?”
"Tomorrow is good for us."
“Alright can do. I’ll meet you here around noon? I’ll need a little time to cook.”
"Absolutely, lets us take the time to get the gear loaded, and your suit made. See you then."
Lisa loved cooking, and it worked well. Tradition held that nothing sold houses like the smell of fresh cookies, or a nice apple pie, baking in the oven. When Lisa knew the people she was showing the house to better she’d tailor the experience to be more specific. She’d cooked roasts, chicken noodle soup from scratch, and once a gluten free vegan thanksgiving loaf to make the house she was selling smell like home. It’s also true that full people are easier to convince.
She packed a small portable grill that she could use as a stove if the one at the house was broken. And she had two coolers, one full of beverages and the other with the food she’d prepped and loaded into her huge SUV, her overnight bag tossed in beside them, then drove out to the school.
Once there, Carl caught her eye as he was walking up, carrying a few grocery bags of his own. "Oh hey, come around to the back of the building. You can park in the garage." he said, gesturing around the building.
What she found was less a garage, and more a pair of wide, tall doors that opened onto what must have been a gym. The vehicle inside was no less unexpected, her having imagined a simple motorhome but instead discovering a double-decker bus that had obviously been converted from its original role. Just into what its new nature was, was unclear.
“Okay. What am I looking at?” She said getting out of her car and opening the back hatch without taking her eyes off of it. “Is this the so-called RV?
"Well, it's the best name we have for it. Technically I think it’s a tiny house, though that seems wrong somehow too." Carl admitted. "It's a double decker bus we converted into a mobile headquarters. It's got an equipment room, bedrooms, a kitchen, and is as heavily armored as a Bradley Fighting Vehicle. Well, when we drop the shutters. That's only come up a couple of times, though."
“That is a bit disconcerting. Do I want to know what made you need to turtle up? And do I need to worry about traps in there?” she asked, unloading her coolers and cook top. She was mostly joking.
"As for why, killbots poured out of a base we were going to explore a couple of years ago and trashed our more conventional rig. That, and Ryan sometimes has issues with his father, that get awkward. Right now, his old man is in jail so that's not really an issue. For twelve to twenty months.”
"Yeah, and we were actually not actively plotting the others death before he got busted, either. I sent him a card for Father’s Day and everything." Ryan said, walking up.
“I saw the card. Are you sure he didn’t want to kill you?” Carl said.
Ryan ignored him. "It's mostly the killbot and occasional external defense our research doesn't warn us about. A lot of these guys prep for the feds or ATF or something turning up, and thus a bit of armor on your vehicle is helpful. Most of the time, it's just kind of a cool show piece."
“It films great for the videos.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Where do you want me to put the coolers? I might have over packed, but I got on a salad binge.”
"You're fine." Ryan took one of the coolers and led her inside. That was a surprisingly pleasant sitting room with a hard wood floor, comfy looking couch and chairs, and a good-sized TV. Further down there was a compact but complete kitchen, including a slim but full-sized fridge. He set the cooler next to the fridge, the counter being a bit too small for the large container.
“Well, this will make cooking easier. I hadn’t imagined this nice of a kitchen. The lasagna just needs warmed, but this will work way better than a microwave.” She said patting the range.
"Lasagna... Ryan, I may have to leave you for her." Emilia said as she came down the narrow stairs.
"Thrown aside for Italian food. I can understand that, hurt as I am."
Lisa laughed. “I’d say wait till you try it, but I know it’s damn good. I stacked it with Five cheeses and a good, mild Italian sausage. I figured we’d eat this tonight. I also have garlic bread and chocolate cake. I love to cook but cooking for one isn’t much fun.”
"I could get that." Emilia said, leaning towards Carl. "So, how do we get her to visit regularly?"
"Ryan broke all his dads brainwashing gear, so we just have to be nice, and give her sad kitten eyes."
Both turned to her, with self said sad kitten eyes.
She laughed. “Keep me safe on this trip and I’ll have you out for thanksgiving. I do a full spread and invite all my friends.”
"Oh yeah, we're protecting you. And not just for the food." Ryan nodded. "I don't think I've ever been to a thanksgiving dinner." He frowned. "I mean, not a real one."
“Well, you’re in for a treat. I make Everything. Turkey, ham, potato’s, stuffing. If it’s a thanksgiving classic is probably on my table. I just have everyone bring two drinks to share and one needs to be non-alcoholic. You’d be shocked how rowdy a bunch of realtors can get off of chardonnay and limited supervision.”
"I'm beginning to think this is a very elaborate trap." the redhead said. "And I don't think I care!"
"I sure as hell don't." Ryan agreed.
"Well, while everyone starts falling into a pre-thanksgiving dream state, I'll go get this whale on the road." Carl laughed, heading for the front of the vehicle. Before long the sound of a massive diesel engine kicked to roaring, but surprisingly muted, life, and the bus lurched as they pulled out.
"Come on, I'll show you to your… I don't know what to call it. Cabin? Probably cabin." Emilia offered.
"I'll put stuff in the fridge." Ryan promised.
“I know that look, and if I find a cookie missing your not getting desert! Lisa teased
“Dang it.”