It was a midnight movie release and Mal was dressed for the occasion. He had traded his blazer for his battle troop armor, and held the helmet under one arm so his hair could be it’s pristine quality (plus, It was HOT in there!). He still had a notebook in one of the armors pouches just in case, which made him feel prepared for anything. This Space Battles event would be the best yet!

The usual collection of nerds were in attendance: he could see Caleb, that guy who worked at the office supply place and boasted having the most screen accurate robes in the area, and that punk teen from the Mal who owned a crappy light sword but still felt the need to point out any fandom flaw the second the credits rolled. There was also the most amazing costume of the emperor Sixth, with red skin and realistic looking horns jutting from his head. Actually, if he didn’t know better, Mal would have bet those were real.

Then, the horns were gone. What the...

The guy seemed just as surprised as everyone else as his hands shot to his forehead. The red paint was still there but there was a distinct lack now without the appendages. Mal pressed closer, trying to pinpoint the change. He heard rumors about this! You follow enough mutants you can catch wind of something as phenomenal as what he witnessed. But this was the first time actually being present! Disregarding his spot in line, he rushed that direction, looking for anyone he didn’t recognize.

There, that was the last person who came up to the gathering! The first target he would interview about the unique ability that had thus far been a tall tale spread by mutants!

”Excuse me, Mal Sterling. Do you have a moment?” he could practically hear his followers squealing with delight!

Star Battles: The Ascent of Spacehiker. Booker couldn’t believe that it was finally here! Ever since the first trailer stropped and he heard that diabolical cackle of Czar Pumpernickel, he knew that this was going to be the movie to end all movies. Toted as the end of the Spacehiker saga, it was no wonder that the writers and producers were pulling out all the stops. And the same could be said for Booker, who, of course, was going to show up on opening night.

He had been working hard on his costume. While he didn’t relish how warm it would be, he knew that he couldn’t attend this premiere not dressed as his favorite character, Crispboba, the towering, furry bounty hunter with the space age crossbow! He was one of the few characters that made it into every single film and he was going to rock his costume tonight.

Though he didn’t fully appreciate the snickering in his rideshare over, he had to admit that the looks of appreciation seemed to grow the closer he got to the theater. When he finally marched into the center, the lines brimming with excitement, he couldn’t help the wide smile underneath his mask. Practically everyone was in costume and, when they turned to see him, there was a roar of acceptance from his peers.

Lovely.

Sauntering forward, Booker was nothing more than a mass of black fur with tanned highlights. The bandelero he wore across his chest was accurate, as as the matte-painted crossbow that was slung over his shoulder. Around his neck sat a single medal that gleamed like gold (just plastic, but real-looking enough) and his mask was intricately made with long, tresses of hair. Oh the costume was on point but, sure enough, it was pretty warm. Still, he would manage it until he got into the theater. After all, he couldn’t watch the movie with the mask on.

He could, but he would only see what was dead center. His periphery would be an issue and he wanted the whole experience.

Smiling, he waved at a few people he recognized, some of them knowing he was coming out dressed like this. But when another began to approach, Booker merely glanced to him out of the corner of his eye before looking forward again, awaiting the opening of the doors. At first he assumed the man was looking for someone else, but when he approached him and began to introduce himself, Booker was surprised.

”Who? Me?” He asked. He then shook his head, his voice muffled from behind his mask as he spoke up. ”Everything okay?” he asked. ”Don’t think I the person you think I am.”

Seriously, this guys outfit was...the coolest thing ever! The fur, the details! Mal was momentarily having an internal meltdown when he remembered why he stopped his fellow Space Battles fan. Oh, professional. He was a professional! "Actually, I was trying to talk to you. I realize you are probably pretty warm in that costume, I couldn't keep my helmet on myself..." He chose to protect his hair rather than bask in the full glory of his ensemble, but this guy took it all the way!

"I just, I happened to notice your, what is the term you might use... Aura? You wouldn't happen to be..." He glanced from side to side to prevent being overheard, and leaned close to the furry costume head. "An adapted, would you?"

It was like knowing the secret password to get into a club. Surely, the guy would be impressed by his knowledge, right?

Or, would he be nervous? Would he run away? Mal did not consider other alternatives. Heaven help him if he got swung at with that rather realistic looking crossbow. Although, there could be worse ways to land in the hospital. How did you get hurt? Crossbow injury?! That's so awesome!

Yeah, he was pretty sure he was okay with getting hit by a giant costume prop. He had good health insurance. He was a writer, after all.

Booker didn’t know who this guy was but he certainly seemed frantic for a conversation. Booker eyed him warily, certain that he was mistaken and ready to move on when the man confirmed that it was him he was looking for. Did he know him? Was he a fan of the gaming channel he was on with his sister on ViewTube? It was possible, he had met a few fans like that. But maybe not? It was hard to be a bead on him.

They compared costumes and Booker chuckled warily from within. ”Yeah, I outfitted it with ventilation where I could, but still pretty warm.” Where was he going with this?

In all honesty, Booker couldn’t have anticipated those were the words that would come next. The truth was, he knew he had an adverse effect on mutants but it was actually kind of hard to pin it on him. It wasn’t as if he were glowing or shooting off sparks whenever he was near one. Mutants just...lost their powers around him. Turned off like a lightswitch. The chances of someone noticing it was him, without looking for him, were...astronomical.

At least judging from his subtle side-to-side, Mal seemed like someone who knew how to try and keep a secret. Though, if he really was trying to be secretive, approaching your subject in the middle of a crowded premiere probably wasn’t the best idea.

Still...Booker was suspicious. He didn’t sense and maliciousness in Mal, but that didn’t mean he trusted him off the bat. Booker was only glad that Javier wasn’t here. He had to work late on some rush orders so he couldn’t come. If he had run into this guy with him, Javier could possibly be having a full on panic attack by now. But Booker? He was intrigued.

Reaching up, he he found the hidden straps for his mask and unclipped them. He pulled the helmet off and tucked it under his arm.

There was a slight glow of perspiration on his forehead, but all-in-all, he didn’t look much worse for the wear. Actually he looked warm and fuzzy to hug. His light, honeyed hair ruffled with the cool breeze outside. Jade eyes looked upon the man with cautious curiosity while his glove hand scratched at the stubble he still wore upon his chin and jawline. Still, despite his wariness, he smiled as he looked upon the other.

”That really depends on who’s asking, Mal...” he started. ”And why?”

Mal watched as the stranger took in what he said. He had enough experience as a writer to always be wary while people decided whether to trust him. He had drinks thrown at him, dodged some punches, and once even got himself teleported inside an aquarium (that was wicked cool though!) The adapted would not teleport him thankfully, and he had no drink, but physical defenses were still possible.

”I am a writer, actually. A fan of all things mutation related. I honestly just would love to ask some questions. I mean, I know the focus right now is the movie, which clearly should take priority, but perhaps you could spare a min—“

CRASH!

Mal swiveled around, watching as some type of fight was breaking out near the front of the line. Well, disagreements weren’t unheard of at these things but that looked like a bit much!

“They oversold the movie!” Someone was yelling. “This is bulls***! I waited months for this! You aren’t keeping me out!”

Oh.

OH!

Booker didn’t know how this person was. While normally he was a very open and chatty individual when it came to meeting new people, in this instance he couldn’t help but be the slightest bit suspicious. Not a lot of people knew what he was, let alone the terminology of it. That instantly put him at alert, especially since both he and his sister had been kidnapped by a splinter group of secret agents hoping to convert him.

Needless to say, he had to be more careful than normal.

But this guy didn’t seem all that malicious. If anything just a bit nosy. And once he revealed that he was a writer, that notion was justified. Yep, nosy. The more he spoke, the more Booker found himself somewhat intrigued. A fan of mutants? That was exactly what Booker was. Vaguely he began to wonder if they had occupied the same local forums online but was interrupted by sudden shouting.

He nearly dropped his mask but kept it tucked under his arm. His head snapped towards the front of the ticket office line where someone was currently throwing up a tantrum. The crashing sound didn’t natural either. He exchanged looks with the new guy, shrugged his shoulder and began to edge closer to the scene.

”I wonder what is going on?” he vaguely asked both himself and Mal. After exchanging a look with him, he shook his head. ”We totally shouldn’t investgate that. Nope.”

And yet he was still trying to edge closer to the scene. Concerned citizen and all.

Malcolm watched as his companion inched closer to the situation, momentarily torn about whether they should investigate or stay out of the way. Mal was not wearing his protective vest, and while the costume he had looked tough, the plastic shell would buckle the second anyone made contact with him. If he knew anything, it was that plastic shattering against your skin cut, and hurt, and really sucked.

"Please, we are working to resolve the current situation. As of right now, we are only oversold by 3 tickets, so we will take an attendance count when it gets closer to showtime."

"And if everyone is here? Will you just let in whoever got here first? Where are your ethics!" A disgruntled man painted in green expressed. The now-hornless mutant also seemed unhappy. But that could be because his own costume was temporarily ruined by the turn of events.

Mal considered whether there was anything to be done. He fished out his phone, trying to juggle his helmet and open browsers at the same time. Social media, check, fan page, check. Type type type... submit! Now, if he could stall what was happening here, maybe they would have one of their ever useful solutions!

"How about we give you, what, ten minutes? Let's hear out the solution and then go from there!" He suggested. He remarked loud enough for his call to be heard by one or two people, and let the idea carry forward to the more irate patrons. This way, he was not singled out for the suggestion,m and he was somewhat protected by the crowd.

Booker had no idea what was going on. Well, he did, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. It seemed that someone was losing their shit because the theater had oversold seats for the nice. While that was a dastardly thing for any theater to do, he knew that it was also no reason to cause such a big ruckus. So he continued to inch closer, moving through the crowd with his newfound friend, Mal, to try and assess what was going on.

It seems that a couple of the guys already in line were being told that the theater was oversold -- and they weren’t taking it well. Management was doing what they could to appease them, but they had backed themselves into a corner. Now the irate customers seemed ready to pulverize the management.

Next to him Mal seemed up to something. He quickly pulled out his phone, tapped a few buttons, and then started to talk...rather loudly. Booker arched a brow and then looked back to the angry pair of people. It seemed that they were not fully appeased and were searching the crowd for whomever it was that was talking.

Feeling back for the duo, Booker sighed as he stepped forward, his mask still tucked under his arm. He gave the two a big, friendly, understanding smile. He then held out the ticket that he had in hand, offering it to the both of them.

”Hey guys, I get it. It’s a sucky situation. But there’s not need to take it out on the people just trying to do their job,” he held out one ticket for them. ”I only have the one, but either of you are welcome to it. If the oversolds don’t show, I’ll grab one of those. If not,” he shrugged and beamed brightly. ”I’ll catch it another time. Let’s just all stay calm, okay?”

If Malcolm had learned one thing in his lifetime, it was that angry nerds were a force to be reckoned with. Limit figurine sell-outs had resulted in adult temper tantrums of impressive magnitudes. Poorly received movies had drawn boycotts. Celebrities left the internet for fear of what their fans could accomplish at will. The best of those celebrities knew how to sway their growing hoard of fans into the correct direction. It was a matter of bait, and redirection. The only problem, was coming up with the bait.

The stranger offered one element of the bait. Ah, that would be one less thing to come up with. But it would not be enough. With a bold move, he stepped in front of the costumed adapted and held up his own hand to halt an upcoming scuffle for it. "Now now, gentleman. The behavior you are displaying is unfitting for this fandom, and while I'm sure this gentleman has good intentions, I don't think you deserve the ticket quite yet."

"What do you mean, we don't deserve it!" One of the men snarled. He was a large figure, comically dressed as a well known, short green character. Except he wasn't short, he was over six foot tall with ears that seemed to add another foot. Malcolm sighed, and pulled up a photo on his phone.

"Let's see, according to my fan base, you two pulled this stunt at the last midnight premier, two cities over. Mr. Uh, Nate, is it? And Mr. Jamie... Isn't this video...you?"

The crowd grew silent, and glances were exchanged. The theater management seemed to clue in on the discussion and were leaning forward eagerly now.

"That's a bunch of bull****! We paid for the tickets, we get to see the movie!"

"You did not pay for it. You hacked the system and took advantage of it! You aren't fans! You're...anti-fans!"

GASP!

Okay, only a few people looked surprised, but the gasp in his head was real enough! "That's horrible! Get out of here! You don't deserve to see the movie!" People were yelling, turning on the two men. With the distraction, Mal glanced at his companion and nodded to the ticket.

"I'd hang onto that for now. Let this iron out first."

Booker felt bad. He didn’t know these two guys but it was clear that they were upset at having to miss out on the movie of the century. Even though they could come another day, another time, there was just something about seeing movies like this on their opening day. Booker was willing to take that hit, however, if it meant keeping the peace. He knew that there were more important things than movies and fandoms, and sometimes you just needed to sacrifice for the greater good.

A lifetime of ready comics will give you that kind of mentality. But, as it would appear, he didn’t have to make any such sacrifice. The truth of the matter was far more disheartening than he could have ever imagined.

According to Mal, the new comrade at his side, it wasn’t just that these guys were lying, it was that this was a scam they had pulled multiple times before. If they had just done it once out of genuinely missing a movie, fine, but the fact that they had done it across several fandoms, cheating good people out of seats just so they could get a free show? That was something he certainly couldn’t abide by.

He frowned, looking between the giant Boda and the hornless Dark Mail. Silently he shook his head as the crowd all gasped and booed at the duo. The evidence was there and hard to deny. Quickly he tucked his ticket back into his pocket and nodded his head firmly.

”Yeah, he’s right,” he said. ”You don’t deserve this ticket...or any others you don’t buy on your own.” Looked between the two cosplayers before finished with a venom soaked whisper. ”And your costumes look store bought!”

The adapted finally put his ticket away, and the two con-artists realized the gig was up. With irritated looks they started to back away, but not without glaring at Malcolm. Try as he did, he had managed to still plant a target on himself. Well, so what? He lifted his chin and gave the most daring expression he could. It helped that he had a costume on that looked like a suit of armor. Heck, he felt pretty invincible. He felt pretty dang Shiny.

"Now, were there any other ticket thieves we need to expel from this event? No?" With a shake of his head, he turned back to his conversation. "A bit more excitement than the usual premier but at least you didn't give up your ticket too soon! Oh, just a second."

Like a good celebrity, he put his phone up, struck a pose of victory at the now calm crowd, and submitted it as a thanks to his fans. Peace restored, y'all are rockin' it tonight! It never hurt to pat them on the back for a job well done.

It seemed that the situation was going to resolve itself...for the most part. The two morons certainly seemed like they had been caught red-handed thanks to Mal’s intervention. And to think, he almost gave away his own ticket! Honestly while it would have sucked, Booker would have been more than willing if it meant keeping the peace or making someone’s day. But the fact that these people purposefully did this for free passes was...deplorable. He was glad it was over.

At least he hoped it was over. Things could always end up far worse than how they started but that was a chance he was willing to take. While management and the two liars were locked again in debate, Booker turned to look his odd comrade thus far.

Okay, maybe the guy wasn’t working for SUPER but he just seemed to be so...observant. Like scarily so. He couldn’t be just some average journalist. But the longer Booker thought about it, the more and more familiar it sounded. Then, he watched as he took a selfie and he had to pause. Crap, that was it wasn’t it? Mal...nerd stuff...social media posts...writer...how could he not have guessed before?

”Wait a second...Mal?” he cautioned. ”The Mal? AUTHOR Mal?” There was no questioning it. This was the webnovelist! Mutant fan extraordinaire! ”Dude, I recognize you now! It’s nice to meetcha! Thanks for saving my ticket,” he chuckled.

Mal had expected the conversation to return to the somewhat tense game they had been working through, but the selfie had done something unexpected. His companion had a look of recognition, and walls came crumbling down. Malcolm looked absolutely delighted. "You've heard of me? I feel flattered now! I knew traffic levels to Mighty Moon had increased a lot recently, but this is actually quite flattering." He would have preened if he were a bird. Heck, if he were a bird mutant he would preen. He settled for a wide grin.

"I was happy to help! Mutants are truly some of the coolest people I have ever had the chance to meet. I interview so much because I genuinely love hearing what people can do. There is no limit to the advancements of genetics in the Xgene. And you, you are truly unique yourself. Yet you...you read webnovels?" Mal ventured, wondering if his companion was a fan of more than just his own clearly spectacular writing subjects.

The crowd had calmed, giving them a chance to really talk again. And fanboy. Which, was always the goal.

Booker was deep into the world of nerd. Obvious if one just looked hard enough at his costume. No one puts this much work into it and not expect him to be an uber nerd. Therefore it came as no surprise that he eventually put two and two together and realized who Mal was. It was the social media posting that did it, he was one of the many “celebrity” accounts that he followed. Initially he had been suspicious but he recognized the person and, to be honest, he didn’t seem all that bad.

A bit nosy, but really, not all that bad.

Plus, the writings were something to marvel at. Being a librarian, Booker loved books, all kinds of books. Though he had a preference towards loving the physical copies, he knew that ebooks had their own place in the world. Webnovels like Mal’s were quickly becoming a staple in his own digital library and the fact that he was talking to such an author was...a thrill.

”Shouldn’t be so surprised! It’s a great piece of writing,” Booker said with a bright smile.

Though he was thrilled to be a writer, he was actually also extremely thankful for his intervention. Booker would have been fine giving up his ticket if it meant that someone who was legitimately missing out could see the show. But thanks to Mal, some liars were exposed and he had a chance to see his favorite movie AND meet a favorite author!

”Oh yes!” he said with a nod. ”I love books. I’m a librarian at New York Public Library. I’m always reading. Usually I prefer the classic, but I also love comics and a lot of the newer series! Perry Hotter, Mercy Johnson and the Olympians, The Halfling, all personal favorites.” He smiled as he held out his hand to him in actual greeting. ”Name’s Booker...nice to meet you.”

Malcolm loved praise. Heck, what writer didn't like it? Having your hard work acknowledged was the glorious goal many never knew or got to appreciate. He looked humble, but also probably like he was inwardly preening. "It means a lot, it really does. Writing is one of those professions that you spend all your energy creating, without ever knowing if it's even worth it or not."[/color] He always felt relieved when people said he had done a good job. It made all his nerdy adventures worth it.

Malcolm beamed when Booker finally introduced himself. He already though the name was the best thing in the world. "Being a librarian sounds like an awesome way to pass the time! I don't know if I would ever get anything done, to be honest. There would be so much I would want to read! Perry Hotter is one of my favorites! I own the book series in the original hardcover as well as the limited edition illustrated versions. The art in those was absolutely stunning."[/color] He shifted his helmet from one arm to another and accepted the handshake. "Did you go to the last premier? There was a mutant there who was able to change their hair and they were the spitting image of my favorite character!"[/color]