Thirty minutes later
The group had migrated to the building's cafeteria. Apparently this abandoned office building had come equipped with a full cafeteria setup, and the team had converted it into their personal dining and social space.
The room was pretty huge, easily able to seat fifty people at the scattered tables and chairs, but everyone just congregated at the front near the kitchen entrance, clustering together naturally rather than spreading out.
Marco and Polo were busy in the kitchen, their argument apparently having evolved into a competitive cook-off. The sounds of clanging pots, chopping knives, and occasional insults drifted through the serving window.
Eric was still out driving the U-Haul, presumably dumping unconscious gang members on the other side of the city.
Sven and Sasha were occupied with cleaning duties and taking care of the gang member Ben had stabbed, hopefully keeping him alive enough for interrogation.
That left five people plus Tòumíng sitting around one of the front tables: Ghost Claw with her Rainbow Sparkle Princess Pink Drink, Lucy scrolling through her phone with her split tongue occasionally flicking out, Svetlana sprawled across two chairs because of her height, Think Tink The Tinkerer examining some small device he'd pulled from his pocket, and Ben casually sucking on a new blue popsicle like he hadn't recently stabbed someone.
Svetlana looked at Tòumíng with genuine interest. "So. You becoming part of team? Ve need eleventh member. Good number. Better than ten."
Lucy didn't look up from her phone. "What's he even good for? We've already got specialists for everything."
Tòumíng grinned, leaning back in his chair. "I'm the only one with supernatural powers."
"Bullshit," Lucy said flatly.
Tòumíng sighed. "I actually do have supernatural abilities. Multiple skills, immortality, the works."
"Nuh-uh."
Think Tink The Tinkerer looked up from his device. "He does. I confirmed it in the basement. His eyes produce measurable electromagnetic radiation when activated. Very interesting biological anomaly."
"Still don't believe it," Lucy muttered.
Tòumíng activated Ore Sense. His eyes shifted from brown to glowing bright blue, casting eerie light across the cafeteria table.
Lucy jerked back slightly, her expression shifting from dismissive to genuinely startled. She stared at his glowing eyes for a long moment, then looked away and muttered, "Whatever."
Tòumíng deactivated the skill and decided to change the subject. "So how old is everyone? I'm trying to get a sense of the team dynamics."
Svetlana put a hand to her chest in mock offense. "Is rude to ask woman her age!"
Ghost Claw, still sipping her pink drink, answered anyway. "I'm twenty-eight."
"Grandma," Lucy muttered under her breath.
Ghost Claw's head snapped toward her, clearly flustered despite the gas mask hiding her expression. "I'm NOT a grandma! I was born in 1998!"
Lucy scoffed. "Yeah. 1998 BC."
Ghost Claw took an angry sip of her Rainbow Sparkle Princess Pink Drink, the straw making aggressive slurping sounds. She turned to Tòumíng. "And you're nineteen, right?"
"I think so?" Tòumíng said uncertainly.
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you mean 'I think'?"
Tòumíng shrugged with casual nonchalance. "My parents were the ones who kept track of my age and birthdays and stuff. But they killed themselves when I was sixteen, so I don't really know exactly how much time has passed since then. Could be nineteen. Could be twenty. Somewhere in that range."
The entire table went silent. Jaws dropped. Even Lucy looked up from her phone.
The casual way he'd delivered that information—like he was commenting on the weather rather than parental suicide and uncertain age—hit everyone with whiplash.
Lucy found her voice first. "How the fuck are you so chill about this? You just said your parents killed themselves like it's nothing!"
Tòumíng considered this, his expression thoughtful. "I didn't really talk to my parents that much. Like, we lived together, but we weren't close. It's kind of like... realizing your second uncle died. Never really seen the guy, barely knew him, but I guess I'm sad? It's that level of emotional connection."
The uncomfortable silence stretched.
Ghost Claw looked like she wanted to say something supportive but didn't know where to start. Svetlana's usual grin had faded. Even Ben had stopped sucking on his popsicle.
Think Tink The Tinkerer, apparently sensing the mood had gotten too heavy, immediately pivoted to something else. "Today is Cfuar's birthday!"
Tòumíng raised an eyebrow, grateful for the subject change even if it was confusing. "Who the fuck is Cfuar?"
Think Tink The Tinkerer's face lit up with excitement. He jumped up from the table and ran toward the basement stairs, his bare feet slapping against the floor. "Wait here! I'll bring him up!"
Less than a minute later, he returned carrying a large Asian Water Monitor, a lizard easily four feet long from nose to tail, with dark scales and a powerful build. The reptile was draped across Think Tink The Tinkerer's shoulders like a scaly scarf, its tongue flicking out to taste the air.
Tòumíng's eyes went wide. "Are those even legal to own?"
Think Tink The Tinkerer shrugged. "I've had him for two years now. Got him when I was fifteen. Nobody's complained yet."
"Wait." Tòumíng processed this information. "WAIT. You're SEVENTEEN?!"
Think Tink The Tinkerer nodded casually, stroking the lizard's head. "Yeah. Is that surprising?"
"YES! YOU'RE A TEENAGER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE LIKE TWENTY-FIVE!"
Ghost Claw interjected, explaining: "We found him about a year ago in the warehouse in front of this building. He'd suffered severe head trauma, probably from being attacked or falling from somewhere high. The injury caused acquired savant syndrome, giving him exceptional abilities in engineering and chemistry but also erasing most of his previous memories. He doesn't remember his old name, so he chose that extremely convoluted name instead."
Think Tink The Tinkerer's expression became defensive. "It's actually a really smart name! Think Tink The Tinkerer! See, I THINK a lot when I TINK, which is like tinker but shorter, with stuff, which makes me a TINKERER! But you can't just call yourself 'The Tinkerer' without acknowledging your roots, your process. You have to remember that you THINK and you TINK, and those actions are what MADE you The Tinkerer in the first place!"
Everyone at the table stared at him with deadpan expressions for a full minute.
Finally, Ghost Claw turned to Tòumíng. "We're like ninety-nine percent sure he's also autistic."
"I figured," Tòumíng said.
He looked around the table at this absolutely bizarre collection of people, a gas-mask-wearing vigilante who drank pink sparkly beverages, a Russian woman who could carry five people at once, a British guy who stabbed people while keeping his clothes pristine, a purple-haired skip tracer with a split tongue, and a seventeen-year-old savant who talked to his giant lizard.
"Does everyone else have pets?" Tòumíng asked, genuinely curious now.
They all nodded.
"Can I see them?"
"Sure." Lucy stood up. "Mine's in my room."
Svetlana followed. "I show you my pet too. Is very cute."
Ben pulled out his popsicle long enough to say, "I've got a tarantula named Margaret Thatcher. Very political." Then he put the popsicle back in his mouth and walked off.
Ghost Claw stood as well. "I'll show you mine."
They all left the cafeteria, heading toward their respective rooms, leaving Think Tink The Tinkerer alone with his lizard.
He sat down at the table, gently stroking Cfuar's scales, and whispered conspiratorially: "They just don't understand us, Cfuar. They don't appreciate the brilliance of a well-chosen name or the beauty of a good birthday celebration."
The lizard's tongue flicked out in response.
Marco emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Food will be ready in four minut—"
He looked around the empty cafeteria.
"Where the fuck did these fuckers go?"
He scanned the room and spotted Think Tink The Tinkerer huddled in the corner, having an earnest conversation with his giant lizard about the philosophical implications of naming conventions.
Marco sighed deeply, the kind of exhalation that came from dealing with this team's eccentricities on a daily basis, and walked back into the kitchen.
"POLO! They all left again!"
"AGAIN?! We literally just made dinner!"
"I KNOW!"
The sound of renewed arguing drifted from the kitchen as the twins blamed each other for the group's disappearance.