He had frequented Atlantis (before it sank), lived on Mount Olympus, and traversed many planes of existence. Battled and bedded gods and goddess. The Demi-god thought he had seen it all but the sight of New York City at night.... Hercules was in awe, he had been summoned to this time for a couple months now but he was usually caring for his master, William while he slept. Tonight however he was ‘off-duty’ which meant Hercules didn’t have to go home he could do what he wanted till the early hours for his master was attending a sleep over.

It was common now, apparently that children would sleep over at each others house in large numbers and ‘hang’. Hercules didn’t fully understand the concept but after meeting the parents where his master was staying he was confident he could truly trust them. Apparently they were friends with his master’s parents which meant they were people to be trusted!

‘Go out and enjoy the night. Don’t come back till morrow morning. Stay out of trouble!’ The words echoed in Herc’s mind again as he studied the neon signs and bright lights of the city! His mouth hung ajar while he debated his path. The city was a big place and it was rare for the monster slayer to explore the city at night.

Hercules felt someone bump into him. He looked do to see someone fall backwards. The giant didn’t move. “Watchitwhereyergoingman.” a few other people no doubt his companions stopped and puffed out their chests at the Hero. It was adorable.

“Apologies! I’ve never explored the city at night on my own before! I was distracted!” Hercules leaned over and offered up his massive hand and pulled the stranger up. “I’ll watch where I’m standing in the future!” his tattoos glowed for a second and his Hawaiian shirt tightened as he too flexed in greeting to his companions before walking away. He was staying out of ‘trouble’ fighting without being hit first was frowned upon in this era.

Fighting could wait anyways, Hercules was more interested in exploring now anyways. The sights at night were far too distracting.

One night club down, about a billion to go.

She had gotten over the fact she might not see the strange woman she had dated. The one she had liked, who had referred to herself as a mystic. Referred to others as a mystic. Weeks had passed. Over a month. No sign. If she had still been searching for the woman, this would have fallen under the umbrella of ‘crazy stalker.’ She wasn’t. This was business. Which made all the difference.

Magic was real. According to the woman she had dated who had referred to herself (and others) as mystics. Super had an interest in the validity of this statement. She was investigating, for them. For business. Not mixing business and pleasure at all, nope. Although at the last night club she had gone to, she HAD partaken of a beverage. Just the one. And it had even been non-alcoholic, on SUPER’s dime. Tea is non-alcoholic, right?

Haha. Yes, she understood what a Long Island iced tea was. That had just been a joke. She was not purely that dense. At least, not dense enough to charge it on SUPERs company card. No, that had purely been an Amelia thing. After all, she had reasoned, she was thirsty. And she had gone to several night clubs searching for mystical activity. It had grown boring dancing and probing for information.

They had gotten hints that some people displaying mystical abilities had been noted at various clubs. Or maybe it had been the same person? The person had held a sort of sway over people. They had obeyed their suggestions. It had even ended fights without a single punch. There had been several other rumors, too.

There were rumors of children having been abducted by people using magicks. Of random fires throughout the city. Of a murderous swordsman targeting mutants. That one had even been caught on camera exiting the bank after clashing with a vigilante in a helmet. And various other little things that spoke to her of greater paranormal activity throughout the city.

If she had delved deeper, she may have traced the start of these problems to some time around the harvest moon. But she had yet to connect those dots. What she had were rumors and wild stories, some of which had been less paranormal, and more mutation-oriented. But as previously stated, she was bored. Had grown bored. And she had not made a great amount of headway. What she needed was (another drink) a good lead. And—

“Well, aren’t you tall, muscular, and wildly underdressed.” Amelia stopped mid-stride on the sidewalk to stare at a man in a Hawaiian shirt.

Had she just said something like that out loud? Maybe the bartender had mixed the iced tea a bit more Long Island than she had thought. And also, weren’t women more her cup of tea? Welp. She supposed she was not wholly in her own faculties. Or else, she was not unable to appreciate a finely crafted person.

“I guess man, or woman. Statuesque is statuesque.” She mumbled.

Amelia covered her mouth and blushed. Yes. She had definitely announced that verbally. Also, yes. She was more appropriately dressed for clubbing than mister Hawaiian shirt. In a little red dress and everything. Really went with her little black bag and short, neck-length curtain of brown hair. And having recently become taller, she had opted to do something she had never managed before, due to the cruel reality of lack of height. She showed a good extra couple more inches of leg than ever before in her life. Still proper, of course. But Serena would have approved.

“I am so sorry,” Amelia apologized. “Won’t happen again.”

Hercules looked down to his shirt when he heard the woman talk about his clothing then looked back to the lady in red who made the comment. ”I was told Hawaiian shirts were in.” he said wishing he went with another shirt from Will’s father’s closet. The giant always felt weird about wearing his clothing. It just so happened that Will’s recently deceased father was pretty close to his size. Hercules was obviously in better shape.

The giant eyed the woman in red and gave a slight bow of his head acknowledging the woman who clearly knew fashion the dress seemed to accentuate her form. It was pleasing on the eyes, both her dress and her form. ”I will never need an apology for the truth.” he was tall and muscular. The shirt comment seemed to hit him harder with the truth. He thought he looked like he was ready to have a night on the town and if it led to company so be it! His master told him to have fun and it had been centuries since the demi-god had gotten lucky.

Perhaps the casualness of the Hawaiian shirt was too casual. It was a shame too, it showed off his well defined muscles so well. His muscles flexed under the shirt and he opened his arms towards the woman and gave a slight turn, the way he had seen people do it in his favorite shows so she could get a good look.

The khaki pants were a little loose, Erikson, William’s recently deceased father was more wide in the gut but Hercule’s solved the problem with a belt. ”It’s been far too long since I’ve gone out, I figured this was appropriate attire.” he looked back down to the lady in red.

”Do you have any sage advice on what would be the appropriate attire for night life in the city? It’s hard finding clothes that fit properly.” he hadn't bought clothes since being summoned just wore them and occasionally ripped through them. ”I’m Hercules!” he offered his big meaty hand as he introduced himself.

Hawaiian shirts? In? In what? Poor taste?

Ah well. Enough being catty. Mrowr.

Amelia ‘mmhmm’d at the shirt comment, pointedly. Then, She said some stuff. He said some stuff. And quite frankly, she got the worse end of the exchange. She was embarrassed. And her mouth, it had seemed to run on its own. Totally unlike her.

But then, new body, new face. New rules? Maybe!

The whole ‘never need an apology for the truth’ comment seemed like a disaster waiting to happen to her. And also, about as archaic as one could get. Who was this man? The deep voice and the almost chivalrous attitude seemed almost like someone had written his lines for him. Ditto for the “sage advice” question.

Amelia was silent a moment. Then, she pursed her lips. Thoughtfully.

“Advice.” She said. Laughed a little. “I don’t think you want my advice. A suit might look good though. In black.”

She politely did not shake his hand. Too many mutant can do horrible things to you if you touch them.

“I’m Amelia,” she smiled. “Nice to meet you. Yeah. Armani, I would say.” She added, eying him appraisingly. “Or Louis Vuittan. Would look nice.”

Recalling proper introduction etiquette from one of the shows he had been binging he frowned slightly. It was pretty recent in it’s date of creation meaning that what was expected in meeting someone new. I smile and a handshake.

His hand lowered when she didn’t accept still not sure why introductions were so awkward for him. Was his hands too muscular? Were they intimidating? He looked at his hand for a moment then returned his gaze to Amelia. ”Those are brands?” he asked raising his eyebrow trying to recall any of the names of the suits he managed to borrow from his Master’s late fathers closet. Thankfully he too was a large man.

”I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it. You’re attire seems more... appropriate.” he said noticing people walking in suits and dresses and no Hawaiian shirts. ”Starting to think I chose poorly this evenings festivities...” he said more to himself looking down at the shirt and debating tearing it off but deciding against it. If the shirt meant he was underdressed taking it off would probably be even worse.

”Is peacocking no longer a thing?” he asked now more concerned he as watching out of date programs meaning most of his information was once again out of date.

“Yeah, brands.” She agreed. Was he new to fashion? Just new. But then, many people weren’t familiar with “Expensive brands.” She elaborated.

Yeah, many people weren’t familiar with expensive things.

He looked at his shirt, as if contemplating something. Amelia pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“I think you’ll be okay,” she finally decided. “At the bare minimum, you stand out. You’re memorable. And that isn’t bad.”

Yep. Not bad. Not always.

As for his comment about peacocking. “I have no idea what peacocking is. You’ll have to enlighten me.” Amelia smiled. “And maybe escort me to the dance floor?”

She nodded to the middle of the club.

Once they were dancing, she made some basic conversation. “So. Tell me about yourself. For starters, how about what you do for fun? For living? Name. So I don’t keep calling you Hawaii in my head.”

She wasn’t calling him Hawaii in her head, but she could. Could be a fun nickname.

Maybe he knew about her topic of research, maybe not, maybe with the one drink and the buzz she could be off duty for a while. Let the other Amelia take over, so to speak. If they weren’t running things already.

Irresponsible, yes. But one cannot win them all.

As she spoke, she danced. Just moving her body, her arms, her hips. It was not slow dancing, and she was not up close like many other women in the club might have been. There was space between them. But she was still dancing.

”Ah, Yes. I’m still unfamiliar with the expensive brands.” he said apologetically and stood upright no longer studying himself when she said he’d should be fine. He was ‘memorable’. His muscles flexed in response. Of course he was. He was a god, a son of Zeus. A hero. It would be hard to forget someone such as he!

”Ha! It would be my honor!” he said knowing she must have fallen prey to his peacocking technique. Even if she didn’t claim to know what it was it seemed the trap was already sprung. ”It is where one dons colorful clothing or something that grabs the attention of a suitable mate in the wild. Much like the bright feathers of a male peacock.” he said offering his knowledge freely.

His ‘research’ into dancing techniques of the time consisted of him studying popular shows that his master suggested to him. Most of which were done in a ‘closed studio’ where hardly anyone else was on ther dance floor so he tried to mimic some of the men around him. Shaking his hips and moving his feet around to match her movement.

Small talk! Excellent! ”My name is Hercules!” he boomed over the music and continued to move to the best of his inexperienced ability. ”I like to work out, read and learn more about this city. Currently I am caring for my nephew!” he said lying about the last bit but reciting what his master told him so he wouldn’t bring any more attention to his master.

”Hawaii is not a bad name. It's one of the states and from what I can tell looks like a paradise. I wish to go there at some point!” Hercules was a little confused with the dancing the other woman were doing compared to his dance partner. He however didn’t question it, he at least got to speak to the woman. ”How about you? Are you in fashion?” he smiled as the top button of his shirt gave way and exposed a little more of his chest.

>> ”It is where one dons colorful clothing or something that grabs the attention of a suitable mate in the wild. Much like the bright feathers of a male peacock.”

“Ah, I see,” Amelia agreed. Basically, magnificent poofs. Though everyone was one at some point so whatever. “Like a peacock, got it.”

As they danced, he intoduced himself and had Amelia heard they right? Hercules?

She had the sudden urge to tell him “surely, you jest!” But he rolled on with the talky talky… and she figured if she had said it, he’d have just replied “I’m perfectly serious, and don’t call me Shirley,” or… more likely, he’d have said “no. You Amelia, me Hercules. No jest.”

More talking. He seemed nice enough. Talking of Hawaii.

“Not in fashion. Just fashionable,” she told him. “And yeah, Hawaii really is a magical place.”

She’d never been. Should have. Maybe if she’d had someone to take, but… most of her relationships had inevitably fizzled. Maybe if business took her.

Speaking of business… “really into Magic.” She continued, trying to be heard over the music. “Used to be a magicians assistant. Designed my own outfit and everything. Still know how to do some of his tricks. You ever see any magic, Herc? Other than that smile, of course.”

She smiled and flattered. Dumb flattery really, how would he even see his smile unless he practiced in the mirror. Nothing magical about that. Why had she even—

She was into magic? Wonderful! His face lit up, not actually, the tattoos tracing over his body continued to move in the dim light of the club as he moved to the music occasionally eyeing a few people, one two understand the movement he supposed to be conducting but also a god knows when someone is checking him out.

The prince of power’s attention snapped back to the woman who he ensured with his ‘peacock’ technique. It would have been rude to look elsewhere. Was she flirting with him as well? Clearly she underestimated the shirt and it’s bright colors. Mortals. They were simple, yet complex at the same time. Hercules loved them all, it was one of the many reasons he was okay with his curse.

”Ha! You have no idea!” he boasted while he continued to move, ”Flatery will get you anywhere!” he said turning a little as he attempted to copy someone spinning. The only difference was he didn't’ throw his arms out, he threw them up. His wingspan was too great in such a crowded area. As he turned he started to glow for the woman he was dancing with, whom seemed to love magic. Surely she was talking about real magic.

If it was another setting he would have even mentioned his master William who was a true, mystic. Or wizard. Whatever they were called in this era, however recent events had caused the boy to warn Hercules not to reveal who his master was. He was still being hunted after all.

Green sigils cascaded around his body, all of them crossing over each other making it difficult to read or understand. Even if she was a mystic the meanings would be too complex to understand. Some of the runes were even so old they were lost several centuries ago.

”What’s your favorite spell?” he roared as the music seemed to change at that exact moment making it very clear what he was asking.