xp_logs | Moving Day: Smoked Meat and a Rueben

Amanda and Kevin run into each other at Sol's Deli, a local mainstay that Snow Valley had been customers of years before the move to District X.

Sol's deli on the surface was typical of every deli in New York, it was almost a stereotype. It did, however, have a couple of small differences; the visible mutant server who worked afternoons, and the collage of photos on the far wall, which included shots of the staff providing meals in the wake of Apocalypse's attack on New York, various prominent District X citizens enjoying a pastrami on rye, and a number of photos of former regulars who had disappeared during the M-Day event. Otherwise, it had the scrubbed wooden tables, the slightly tattered vinyl padded seats, the array of smoked meats behind the glass display case, and the cask of sour dills by the cash.

Amanda had been popping into this place quite often over the years, on her visits to DX to renew her various wards. It was the type of magic that always left her hungry, and sometimes city energy didn't satisfy quite as well as a Sol's Reuben sandwich and a can of Vernors. She was sitting by the window, enjoying a well-deserved lunch, when Kevin came in.

Kevin gave the owner, Zane, a brief wave as he hung up his coat and sat down unbidden across from her. "Sefton." He said with a nod. After a couple of minutes, a waitress came by with a cup of coffee for him.

"The usual, Syd?"

"Of course. Give me the fatty cut."

"So you're eating healthy today." She snarked as she went back to the counter.

Amanda chuckled and laid down her sandwich, wiping her face with a paper napkin. “Hey, Kevin. I should have known you’d be here about this time. What’s up?”

"Needed a break. Between Lewis and Topaz negotiating where each individual book goes and Ramsey and Nat who I think are stashing guns all over the building, I set up my liquor cabinet and made a run for it." Kevin said. "Jesus, in my day, New York would be under a foot of snow by now and it would have started in October."

"It's called climate change." Amanda made a face and reached for her drink. "It's ridiculous - people accept there's people who can fly, read your mind, all sorts of things, but they can't agree that we're having an actual impact on the weather of the planet."

"We just need bigger mutants. I'm sure a climate controlling mutant couldn't end badly." He said wryly as he sipped his black coffee.

"We had one that could control the weather, actually, back before M-Day," she replied, reflectively. "I don't know how much she could do now, but I'm sure she wouldn't just be sitting by and watching this all happen."

"Depends. We sat on the edge of destroying the entire planet for my entire adult life and managed not to, without any one coming to save us on their own. Perhaps common sense might kick in at some point."

"Maybe." Amanda's tone wasn't exactly optimistic, but she shrugged and picked up her sandwich again. "I figure I'll find my desk again sometime in February," she went on, changing the subject. "At least Artie gave me a hand with it. Things kind of snuck up on me."

"Happens. Mission creep is a real danger in this job. Blink and suddenly you're spreading yourself over three continents before you know it." His sandwich arrived and he took a large bite of the pile of fatty smoked meat.

"Mmm. Even with my teleporting, it gets hard. Too bad I don't get frequent flyer miles with that - I'd have enough to buy my own bloody plane by now." She picked up her remaining sandwich and took a bite.

"Easier to just use someone else's. I have a few Lears that I can sneak out if I need." Kevin nodded, applying himself strongly to the sandwich while a plate of pickles and coleslaw hit the table.

"Nah, if I have to travel, it's easier to just hitch a lift from New York to whichever major city is closest." Amanda tilted her head at him. "You do know about that part of my powers, right? The bit where I talk to cities and get absorbed by them so I can travel between them?"

"Yes, but I've blotted it out because it is intensely fucking wild and many of the cities I've been to make me assume teleporting involves terrible cigarettes, greasy local 'specials' and bus station blowjobs." Kevin paused. "I may have an especially dire opinion of humanity."

There was a moment of coughing and spluttering, as Amanda narrowly avoided snorting Russian dressing up her nose. “Not so dire,” she managed at last. “Cincinnati is a complete toilet.”

"Not true. The Bengals have had some great squads. Their West Coast offense in the 70s utterly handcuffed Juice."

“Yeah, not really a baseball fan, sorry.”