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>>"Yes, hero. I will make it so."

He smirked and sent Kalos off to dry the bowl so that they could make their frosting. They were almost done with their little experiment and he was almost sad to see it end. Kalos really was an excellent co-chef. Eventually she would learn to do this on her own because he could see that spark to be self-sufficient glaring in her eyes. She wanted to be independent, to not rely on others. However, in this world, that was something she was going to have to get used to doing, asking for help. There was nothing wrong with that either.

When he returned, the last ingredients he needed, as well as the hand mixer he would be using, he gave the Atlantean a bright smile as he scooted next to her. He slid the ingredients towards her and reached over to plug the mixer into the wall.

>>"I am ready!"

Some technology still eluded Kalos so he wanted to break this loud piece of machinery to her carefully. It could be loud and, to someone who had never seen or heard anything like it before, he didn’t want her to get freaked out. He knew she would be okay if she had some warning to brace for it so he informed her that the mixer would be loud but not something that could cause her any harm. He honestly doubted it could considering her hard skin, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

>>"Why does the fluffy maker go to the wall?"

”Well, because like a lot of technology up here, it uses ‘electricity’ to make it work.”

He took a step back, put the mixer on its lowest and quietest setting, and pulled the trigger. The two metal mixers hummed and turned like gears, running on the electrically powered motor that lay within the chassis. Jorge didn’t hold the button down for too long and instead stopped.

”See? It’s not so bad. Just helps make things mixed and fluffier faster.” Jorge stepped closer to look down at the bowl. She placed in the cream cheese and butter. Satisfied he raised his hand to give her a high-five. ”Great job! High-five.”

He waited until Kalos raised the palm of her hand to match his and gave it a careful bump with his hand. Afterwards, he pulled the bowl closer and held the mixer above it, the metal whisks just barely touching the gooeyness. He turned an eye to Kalos and gave her an encouraging smile.

”Ready? It will be a little loud, but not by much.” He waited until his new friend gave him the okay before he pushed the button down again. The device churned and spun the mixers, which Jorge pushed into the combination of butter and cheese. Then he started to turn the bowl, mixing the ingredients very, very thoroughly.

So the world was going to hell in a handbasket; at least that was everything that was being said over the radio. Reports were coming in about mass hysteria, seeing tears in the fabric of reality, and a litany of other buzzwords that were better fitted to the penny dreadfuls than anything that belonged in the real world. Of course the concept of the “real world” was suddenly being tossed up for speculation as well; what was real and what was fantasy? It seemed that today of all days, both those concepts would sit hand-in-hand.

Poseidon didn’t venture out often to these reported events on his own but today he wanted to have a eyewitness seat to the goings on. The man prided himself in knowing what was going on in his city and while he could have easily just sent out one of his informants to collect information, he wanted to see these reported goings on with his own two eyes. There was something to be said about witnessing these matters first hand and -- upon arriving -- Jorge had to admit that this was certainly one of those times.

Leaving his car parked around the corner, the sharply dressed man observed from the shadows as events unfolded. The portal, the tear, whatever you want to call it, it was actually fairly indescribable; the closest resemblance he could come up with was like looking at a torn seam in the very air itself and watching a piece of cellophane whip in the breeze. Around the frayed edges, a shimmer of light could be seen, more blinding than anything possible, but the dead center, if one looked closely enough, they could see the movement of a world just on the other side.

Absolutely extraordinary. It seemed that the mad conspiracists had finally had one of their crazed theories validated. There was no way this could be counted off as nothing more than swamp gas or light reflecting off of Venus to create the odd illusion or two. No, it seemed that the fridges of science were finally going to be given the spotlight that they deserved -- River would be quite happy to hear that.

But it would seem that there was more to observe than just the the utter destruction of known physics; something far more grounded in what the man was familiar with would come thundering to his door step.

From his vantage point, Jorge observed the duo that came drifting through the scene. One, a thin young man and other, a buxom lass with propensity for very large bows -- how intriguing. Aside from the obvious “Odd Couple” vibe that the duo gave off, Jorge was about to turn his attention away from them and back to the portal, when something caught his eye. The woman was agitated, even he could tell that from this distance, but that wasn’t what garnered his attention, the was the appearance of something thin and slender in her hand. Interesting…

She marched, bravely towards the portal but as quickly as the knife was summoned, the woman was gone, snatched out of thin air...or rather, snatched away by the air. Jorge caught that ruffle of a sudden breeze as it swept up the young woman and planted her firmly astride an extra large tree branch. Next to her, the young man from before was there, this one almost amused by the sight. He couldn’t hear anything that they were saying but they seemed to be concocting some sort of plan -- until they were interrupted.

Jorge saw them before the others did. The single individual in the cheap suit, a SUPER field agent if he ever saw one. From his jacket he pulled a tranquilizer gun where he managed to peg one of the tree-riding mutants. Panic ensued with the other two as they realized that whatever tricks they had been capable of before was now suddenly gone. That could only mean that he must have been an adapted -- perfect.

The scene unraveled faster as the agent broke into a run, attempting to escape from the sudden addition of gunplay. It seemed that the mutant was well prepared for all eventualities, but Jorge knew of something that the other was probably unaware, there was more than one agent out there. The two dropped from their vantage point and split up in order to escape their attackers but with this much SUPER activity in the area, and only more to follow, Jorge knew that they wouldn’t make it out of the park without being collected.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Jorge tapped a quick dial button and sighed as he held it to his ear. ”Duke? Get ready to bring the car around. It seems we have some strays to pick up.”

---

The was like a caged tiger. When Jorge had stepped onto the scene, she was like a rabid animal trying to defend herself at all cost. It was that will to survive, that spark of the animal that make his grin so diabolically. A mutant with that much incentive to live, even in the shadow of the end of the world, certainly that should at least earn her an audience with him.

Wild grunts and hisses filled the air as she and the agent struggled to gain the upper hand. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the shrieks of pain. It was the music that the sadistic crime loved to dance to in private. However, for as entertaining as it was, it was time for him to take action. The last thing he wanted was to be rounded up with the rest of the riffraff.

Too preoccupied with the woman whom he was fighting, the agent struggled to gain the upper hand, flipping her onto her back and climbing on top to pin her down. There was nothing elegant or charming about this fight, but rather it was turning into a wild display of survival of the fittest -- and she was losing. Still, none saw the tall, shadowy figure of a hispanic man as he strolled out from behind a tree line, dressed in an impeccable suit of dark, slate grey, a black button up, and a tie of silver. As he marched, unimpeded, up to the struggling pair, the man’s movements were swift as he slipped his hand into his jacket and removed from a hidden holster a pistol plated in gold.

The barrel was pressed to the agent’s head, away from young woman’s direction. This caused the man to stiffen and turn his eyes in Jorge’s direction. All that he was met with was a cheerful smile as the crimeboss dipped his head towards him.

”Evenin’,” and, without pause, squeezed the trigger. The bullet tore through bone and flesh, causing a burst of ichor to fly, bringing with it the agent’s hidden aspirations to mimic Jackson Pollock across a canvas of emerald grass draped in night. Jorge breathed, slumped his shoulders, and tucked his gun back into his jacket as he peered down at the young, bow-wearing woman. He extended a hand towards her. ”Ooooh, Sweetheart...aren't you in a heap of trouble?” A pause...then he offered her his hand.

>>“Yeah, I guess you could say that...I’ve been swimming since middle school.”

He nodded, impressed. ”Nice. About the same time I started.”

Jorge was not surprised. The kid had an eagerness to get into the water that few others had. Only swimmers were that dedicated to get back in, learn more where it was possible. Considering Andy’s dedication, it was clear that he wanted this to happen. Deep down, Jorge didn’t know how the headmaster would react to a swim team, especially if the kid had powers that could help him win. Deep down, the detective knew it was a tricky situation.

At the end of the day, mutants were just humans with some extra special talents, however not everyone saw that in the same way. Where a man is naturally inclined to be able to run faster than others, for understandable reasons, some people were wary about letting mutants go with that same argument. To be able to swim faster than what is humanly possible would indeed not be fair to everyone, but it is also unfair to ask someone to not swim to their fullest potential. So where is the balancing ground in all of that?

It was at times like this that Jorge was glad he was not the headmaster of this school. While the man had made life-and-death decisions in the past, this was slightly different; this was politics and ethics, and clearly subjects which the man was not prepared to argue against a close-minded populace. But, again, it wasn’t his call.

Moving onto easier topics, he inquired what the kid’s best time was in terms of swimming; that would at least give him an idea of what the kid could do.

>> “That depends… Does it matter if I used my powers or not?”

Jorge thought about it for a moment, tapping his chin in thought. Finally he looked back to Andy. ”Why not tell me both? It’ll give me an idea of what you can do.”

Kalos had a whole future ahead of her, but what she would do with it would be her own choice. Jorge was certain that she was a good person, one who would make it in this world despite all the rapid changes that suddenly washed over her. She was smart enough to make her own way in the world, she just needed some guidance at the moment. Jorge, hopefully, would be able to provide her with some of that.

>>"Mayyyyyybe I am good cake maker….Because of good teacher."

The old officer smirked giving her a cheery smile. Again, she really was extremely sweet and knowing that she suffered in the manner that she did only made the man all the more angier at the Atlanteans. Truly he hoped that they were changing their ways because none should go through what Kalos did.

Funny enough, maybe that would be the future for the young Atlantean. She was following his instructions fairly well, enough so that maybe this was the beginning for her. He imagined a little cake shop in town, run by the coral-covered girl and it made him smile. Even if that wasn’t the path that she eventually undertook, he did hope that whatever it was, it would make her happy.

”Maybe,” he finally said. ”Because you are an excellent student.”

They needed to get back to business, though. Jorge turned his attention to filling in the cake pans with the batter that he prepared. In doing so he showed Kalos how to carefully pour the mixture into the pans, scooping it out with the spatula until all of it was actually in the pan. While it didn’t need every single drop of it, he did show her how to retrieve most of the concoction.

>>"Okay."

When it was her turn, Jorge watched her as she tried to balance between turning over the mixing bowl, as well as encouraging the last droplets of batter out. She struggled a bit, a sight that immediately made the detective want to step over and help, but he needed to let her explore this on her own. He offered his assistance though, but soon it seemed as if it wasn’t necessary as she managed to get the batter in the pan -- well, most of it.
>>"Is it okay? Does all need to go in the pan?"

He nodded his head. ”Perfect.” He then eyed the splattered about batter and what also remained in the bowl. ”You don’t need to get all of it, but you got most of it and that’s good.” Picking up cake pans, Jorge showed Kalos how to gently tap it against the countertop as to cause any trapped air at the bottom to bubble to the surface. When all looked still and ready, he gave her a grin. ”Now we just put these in the oven. This time I will put yours in, okay? The oven is a little hot and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He picked up his pans and maneuvered over to oven that was already giving off a lot of heat. As he pulled down the lid, Jorge knelt down and carefully put in both his pans and kalos little pan. Once everything was in, he stood up and closed the lid, giving her a grin.

”Now is the fun part. We get to make the frosting while our cakes bake.”

Kalos didn’t look in pain from losing the digit, but rather just a little annoyed; and that annoyance, humorously enough, was aimed at the butter more than anything. Jorge didn’t comment, though, as he instead focused on collecting the little digit and cleaning off the stick butter from it. As he did so, Kalos passed it off as just something that happened all the time, nothing that required any special attention of hers. But as the young student spoke, Jorge acted with utmost care for the little digit.

Upon returning to the Atlantean’s side, Jorge offered her the coral cap, watching as she snapped it back into place with a little scraping sound filling the air. He smirked a little, not in mocking, but in impressiveness towards the young woman. She really was the sweetest thing, it was just a shame that she had suffered so much trauma as the result of a backwards society. Once he was sure that she was okay, he turned back to prepping the cake.

>>"You are very brave, hero Jorge. Nobody else who sees under the covers of my fingers likes them."

He was sure that something like that would take getting used to. He hoped that whomever Kalos spoke of were not being intentionally cruel to her. After all, she was a mutant who couldn’t help her circumstances, lord knows the mansion had plenty of them. When Agnes was here, her gift of swallowing insects and having them live inside her was just as interesting, and she found a life for herself, friends, even a love interest. Surely Kalos can carve out her own niche.

”It’s different…” he finally commented about the tentacles under her coral. He turned and gave her a soft smile. ”...but that is a part of who you are and nothing to be embarrassed by. People will either accept you for how amazing you are...or…” a soft shrug. ”...they’re not worth your attention, sweetie. Surround yourself with people who do care. That’s how you find happiness in this world.”

With the powdered sugar spread evenly among the pan, Jorge watched as Kalos inspected the white powder. Oh she was so tempted to take a sample of it. He did tell her she could try a small bit, just enough for her taste it. However, the look that came over her blue eyes immediately hinted that a taste would not be enough. Jorge almost felt a little bad for agreeing to it because he knew the question that would inevitably follow.

>>"Only a little...?"

He nodded. ”Only a little,” he reiterated. ”Trust me, the cake will be sweet enough. If you have too much sugar now, you could make yourself sick and then you won’t be able to have any of your amazing cake. Wouldn’t want that, right?” Gratification now or later? It was a hard lesson for anyone to learn. Once the batter for his own cake was added to the pan, he turned to her. ”Now just pour the batter into the pan and we can put these in the oven. Do you need help?” She was capable, but it would have been quite unheroic to not at least offer.