( Don’t stare, don’t stare— okay, he’s staring, ice forming from the back of his head, in case she’s to punch him. )
… Right, OK. Because this isn’t even a little bit creepy. You go ahead and stare. Get it out of your system. I’m just gonna count down from five and hope you’re done by then.
[Coughs, clearing her throat] Five…
The shield-maiden stands there, surprised for a moment. Not by the flight (even Diana could fly, though she made little use of it at home) but by the strange eccentricities in the way this woman holds herself. It seems familiar. But, when she notices the lack of fabric on her chest, it finally hits her. She smiles, waving the visitor down so that they may stand on the beach together.
“You are on the sands of Greece,” she began. “I think I recognize you from somewhere. An acquaintence of Princess Diana. Power Girl, yes?” Again, she offers a hand.
“I am Andromeda of Themyscira, it is a pleasure.”
“Greece? Killer. I was just thinking that I could totally go for a Gyro. Point me in the direction of the best place for that, and we’ll be off to a great start.” Peej reaches for the proffered hand, giving it a firm (but not too firm) shake.
"And yeah, that’s me. What gave it away? The cape? My rugged good looks? Or my bone-crushing grip? … Sorry about that, by the way." She then releases the other woman’s hand when she realizes she might have shaken it a little too hard.
"Diana and I go way back. Long story made confusingly short, I once had some trouble with creepy children rummaging around upstairs," as she motions to her head with one finger, indicating ‘upstairs’, "… who made me do some pretty rotten stuff. Ended up punching your princess straight into Canada. Odd thing, though. She wasn’t even mad so much as she was… reluctantly impressed.”
"I’m sorry. PayDay for your trouble?" Who ate these? The question drove him crazy. It’s not like nobody loved caramel and nuts mixed together, but when it came to Halloween candy, it was best left at the bottom of the bowl to spoil. "I don’t think I get that very often, but, no, you were around some several months back. I tried to make a compliment about your chest not sound like it was completely centered around your chest. I’m good like that, but I apologize for an unoriginal compliment. You’re… what was it again? Power-Girl?"
"… I’m good, thanks. I’m a firm believer that PayDay and candy corn are the garbage dumps of the candy world. The only thing I hate finding more than either of those in my candy assortment is probably pennies. Seriously, who gives out pennies?!" Kara coughs, covering her mouth when she realizes she’s rambling. "Anyway, yeah. That’s me. Good memory."
“Exactly. You can eat ten more and it don’t matter. Can’t eat ten regular snickers without turnin’ into a tub of lard.”
"Uh huh. Right. Okay, first of all, some of us exercise. Second, the whole point of a real Snickers is that you don’t wanna eat ten more when you’re finished with one.”
[ Nobody expects the zombie apocalypse or…a random gathering of real zombies on Halloween. Hell, Clint didn’t think of much of it until he noticed they were actually eating each other. Luckily, the archer had decided to bring his quiver full of arrows and his trusty bow with him. Not that it makes any sense as Leon Kennedy. He was just doing it because he was dying for some action.
As he avoided being eaten himself, he continuously use his trusty trick arrows to clear the area. Often times causing zombie guts to fly everywhere. It was almost fun. Almost. You know, if he wasn’t going to be eaten for his fresh brains.
When he found himself with his back against the wall, he noticed Peej. Someone he’d…befriended? Or met or something a while back. Hopefully she’d be of some help. He could swear she’s got super strength or something. ]
Hey! A little help!
[At first, Peej thought that New York had merely lost any and all creativity when it came to picking out Halloween costumes. The first few zombies had been pretty convincing, but the gag got real old real fast when “first few” turned into “countless dozens. Having her hands bitten while attempting to hand out candy didn’t help matters.]
Creepy scumbags… I know Snickers are good, but that biting-my-hands-to-get-them stuff is just unnecessary. [She sighs, her red cape flapping about behind her as she soars a few dozen feet above fround level]
Eh? [Her ears twitch noticeably when that bro-tastic voice carries up from above and reaches them, her keen vision immediately picking out… Leon Kennedy? OK, that has to be a costume. A disturbingly appropriate one. In any event, it’s not long before she zips through the air, boots smacking into the pavement beside him, hard enough to knock down any standing creature within ten feet. Clint included.]
Yo. Ordinarily I’d be here to present you with the Best Costume award— because really, that is so appropriate— but I think given the circumstances, you might just wanna grab onto my waist and hold on tight. … and if you make one lewd comment, I’m dropping you on top of the Chrysler Building.
"Happy Halloween, b—…"
"Uh. Are you dressed like Batman?”
Sometimes, I miss 70s comics.
You know. Back when the Mighty Thor sold you Twinkies at the end of every issue, by teaching the Allfather to overcome his lust for gold (because gold collects dust, you see), and to replace it with a lust for golden cream-filled snack cakes.
"The creamed-filling is worthy of the gods!”
… then I realize they were campy as hell and I immediately regret missing them.
"That a fact? Huh! Someone get this kid some candy. And a ‘best costume ever’ award."