The gravity of undead dogs (Aadi)

The mutant teenager wasn't into pranking strangers at all, but he still preemptively gave the mental command to his dogs to 'stare into the next passerby who called them cute' without really knowing who the lucky person would be.

He wasn't sure why he was doing it. Maybe he was frustrated and in a bit of a mood, since he felt his progress over figuring out the ways his mutation worked was coming along too slow for his taste or maybe it was because he pretty much hated his mutation. Other mutants could pull off such cool tricks but he was stuck with necromancing creatures into slaves and it was such a dark power to have. He always felt like he wasn't the right person to wield such an ability, but as long as he had it in his genes, he'd try to use it as little as possible.

A woman was walking somewhat distractedly towards his thralls. The boy gave his ice cream a lick but kept his eyes on her. She was in her late teens or early twenties, very good looking and hopefully she'd just move along but... no... lady what are you doing? Move along, don't call them cute!

EEEEEEEEEKK!!!

He expected maybe a jolt or a bit of a jump from her, not an ear piercing shrill that made HIM jolt instead. His unfinished ball of ice cream rolled right off his cone, staining his black t-shirt, sliding down to the crotch of his jeans and plopping on the floor. He immediately shot up and off the wall, thinking he had gone overboard when he saw her flat on her butt over the floor. Way to go, Miles! You're such a gentleman!

"Aw geez!" he said, throwing away his empty cone, coming over to her and stretching a hand, trying to help her up. "I'm so sorry! Don't be afraid they're... harmless"

Oh, NOW you want them to be cute and cuddly.

The woman was in shock and started to spout gibberish, no wait... french gibberish. The young mutant was fluent in spanish but the only thing he knew in french was 'Je m'apelle Miles'. He refused to do so though, because if he did, she'd ramble on and on in french and by the time she waited for him to answer back, all he'd be able to say in return would be 'Je m'apelle Miles'.

She accepted his hand and he helped her up while his dogs remained behind him but obedient as they were, both still stared at her. She remained spooked and demanded to know what was wrong with their eyes, to the point she thought they were probably sick.

"No, they're not sick, they're..."

They're... what? If he said 'undead', the woman's shriek was likely to pierce his eardrums at this distance. Saying 'zombies', 'demonic', 'aliens' or any other creepy adjective was likely to yield the same result.

"They're special. They're very smart and obedient too. Look..." he said, trying to prove to her there was nothing to be afraid of.

The dogs obeyed every order he gave them, but they were more apt to some than to others. He couldn't get them to do something complex like dance the Macarena but they were actually very good at simple movements in synchronized fashion.

"Spin to your right" he said as he drew a circle in the air, pointing in the right direction and both dogs started spinning at the same time, as if they were chasing their tails but with zero of the enthusiasm a normal dog would have. "Now spin to your left" and the dogs reversed direction.

"Astor! How much is one plus one?" the boy asked and the large boxer dog barked twice as Miles mentally commanded him to do so, then he asked his smaller dog: "Tinaker! How much is one plus one?"

The smaller dog flopped to his side in an ungainly fashion as if it had fainted.

"Math is not his forte" Miles joked, trying to release her tension. "I'm sorry if they scared you but they can't help the glow in their eyes because... well, because they're mutant dogs."

Hopefully, 'mutant' would not cause a loud screech like saying 'undead' would.

The problem with impromptu white lies is that the details are rarely ever thought out. If someone asks you to elaborate, you can't help but go 'uhm', 'uh' or maybe 'er...' if that's your preference. Miles knowledge about animal genetics and mutations was less than minimal and he himself had noticed a major flaw in his 'mutant dogs' explanation, which was: What were the odds that a boxer dog and a mixed breed one ended up having the exact same mutation? He could go down the 'scientific experiments' route but oh! how incredibly generous and forthcoming of intelligent scientists to entrust their genetic experiments to a fifteen year old...

Things could only go downhill from there, so in order to make up some time and think of something plausible, he opted for a far more familiar route to him: Derail, evade, EVADE!

"Well, you see, what happened was... aw MAN!" he complained as he looked down at his clothes. The cookies and cream ice cream ball that had rolled down his shirt and at the crotch of his pants had left clearly visible streaks. "Look at this! Just look at this, what a mess!" he said in exaggerated fashion as he pinched and pulled at his stained t-shirt. "This is one of my best ones and my pants! Look! I've only been wearing these since wednesday (coincidentally, today was tuesday) and now it looks like I wet myself... with white... stuff, that... never mind" he cut himself short before he entered awkward territory.

As he said these things, it gave his mind enough time to notice something she had done. She had lowered her voice when she inquired about the dogs, as if trying to keep their conversation private from the rest of the people walking past them. She wouldn't have bothered if she didn't care for his answer or if this was random chit chat, so he figured she had an actual interest in knowing about mutant dogs and keeping it all hush-hush.

Why? Mere curiosity or just something... else?

Miles decided to answer her question with another one.

"About the animals... why do you want to know?" he asked, first in a normal voice, then he lowered it a tad just like she had done while squinting his eyes a bit. "Any reason in particular you want to know about mutant.... dogs?

Miles eyebrows shot up doing a feigned sign of surprise but his mouth gave it away with a half smile he just couldn't hide. He tried to have a face expression that denoted 'Wow! really?' but if you stared deep into his eyes, you could probably see his brain going 'BOOYAH! Bingo! I knew it! Hah! Mutant sense... tingling!'

It was his first time as well. He had grown accustomed to seeing mutants at school and at Sanctuary, but he had never managed to pick one who looked so normal off the crowd, and that was just from the way she asked him about his dogs. The usual 'what can you do?' question immediately popped into his head but he knew talking about mutations when people were streaming about nearby was unwise. He smiled instead, conscious of her sigh and trying to ease her frustration with it, then looked left and right to see how many people were near them and if there was any place that offered a little more privacy, so they wouldn't have to whisper themselves back and forth.

There was a magazine stand with it's back to the half wall Miles had been sitting on. The owner had a radio with some music playing, so the chances of him listening in on a conversation behind his stand's wall was negligible. It also offered a corner they could just sit and talk in, keeping themselves away from the pedestrian flow.

"Follow me" he said, still smiling and gesturing her to follow with his hand. He mentally commanded both of his dogs to follow as well and to stare at the wall instead of the floor, which would make them look less cute and more normal. He then leaned his buttocks on the halfwall next to the stand and then waited for her to be close enough to reveal his own nature just as she had done.

"I am a mutant as well" he admited to her, no longer with a whisper but still keeping it private. "It's difficult being one because the average person doesn't always understand, but it always feels good to know you're not the only one."

This was very true to him. The Mansion and Sanctuary both had this aura of 'belonging' once you crossed it's doors. He hadn't seen her in either place before, but she was also older than him, so she had probably graduated already and moved out to her own place.

"Now about my dogs, you shouldn't worry about them, but..." he said pausing for effect and knowing full well he was overdoing it with the 'suspense' "...I won't say a single word until you tell me what can you do."

Miles was not an expert regarding mutants, but by this time he had already met several at school and at Sanctuary and he had determined there were four groups of them. The weird looking with weird mutations, who were the unluckiest of the lot, not just looking odd but having strange talents like... mucus flinging or something; the weird looking with cool mutations, who despite having strange looks, they could actually kick butt, like Gina or Amber; the normal looking with weird mutations, who looked average yet had mutations that weren't worth it (the category where he placed himself) and then there were the good looking with cool powers.

This woman was clearly in that last group. She could handle gravity and maybe spit on it's face. She could probably fly and not even need wings for it. How cool was that?

"That's awesome!" he said with a grin on his face, not really expecting her mutation to be thrilling in the least. Then she asked him what he could do.

DRAT! They were back to square one! Miles thought of evading again but his mind drew a blank and no ideas came to bail him out. Anything he said would seem like he was trying to avoid the issue and she had been forthcoming to him so it would be rude if he didn't respond in kind, except... he thought she wouldn't like his answer at all. His mutation was dark and responsible for turning perfectly dead creatures into unliving slaves at his beck and call.

So he tried to sweeten it as much as he could.

"Well, I can't really demonstrate..." he said, realizing that starting out with those words made it seem like he was trying to dodge the bullet one more time "... but only because in order to use my mutation you'd have to get me to... erm... cry."

Beautiful. Make it sound as wimpy as possible and it'll seem harmless.

"BUT!..." he interjected while lifting a finger and tilting his head towards his dogs "...you're actually looking at the fruit of said mutation."

His dark beasts sat still, staring into the wall. There were faint projections of their red eyes reflecting off the wall's surface. Miles sighed as he started to wave his arms about, trying to find the words to explain himself.

"I don't know if it has ever happened to you, but I... well, I just can't control my gift" he said, actually emphasizing the last word with a hint of mockery, since he thought of his mutation as more of a curse than a gift. "And when it goes off, well... this happens."

The boy petted his larger dog on the head, who remained unresponsive to it. "This is Astor. He was sick and dying in my hands when it happened and his little buddy over there is Tinaker, who got hit by a car and I..." Miles paused as he swallowed, since talking about his dogs or what had happened to them was a touchy subject for him, to the point he usually lied about it.

"... I healed them" he finished, darting his eyes to the ground. "My kind of healing however has... consequences" he added, letting that last word trail off.

Realizing he had introduced his dogs but not himself, he was quick to correct that mistake, looking up into her eyes.

"I'm Miles, by the way."