I'm Superman with the Wind at his Back [Open]

[nunpunching]

WHO| Punchy and open
WHAT| Punchy ego trips
WHEN| Midway through week 2, during the day
WHERE| The gift shop on the second floor
WARNINGS| Swearing, I guess

Hell yeah Punchy's in a gang.

At least, that's what he's telling himself as he heads down to the gift shop to look for supplies. The shop is a surprisingly good for the science crew - miniature science kits, automated piggy banks, battery-operated toys, and all manner of things that can be broken down and used for parts.

And, of course, it's got a healthy supply of merchandise branded in Punchy's image. Punchy feels absolutely zero shame as he loads up his Punchy backpack with Punchy-brand sunglasses and Sour Patch Punchies ("deliver a punch of sourness!"). A Punchy hat sits atop his head with a chibi version of him stitched onto the visor. He tops this all off by putting a thermos with his face on it into his Punchbox, alongside an alarm clock of him boxing with Hyperion and a pair of socks with his trademark puppet printed on them.

The puppet is dangling out of the waistband of his bright gold pajamas. He's also got one of those corpse-clearing robots tucked under his arm, and he's beatboxing to himself as he grabs things off the shelf. He's in a startlingly good mood for the Arena, given that he's finally found not only a person who agrees with him, but an entire motley group of kindred spirits. Pacifists who want to solve the puzzle of how get out of here, rather than kill their way through the competition.

It's what he's always wanted out of sidekicks, really.

Comments

[nunpunching]

"Shit." Punchy whistles, a long, low sound, and he shakes his head then slaps his knees with excitement. It's not ideal, but it's more to work with than they've had any Arena so far.

"You tried icing out the cam shit up in the IMAX? They could pack some digital heat, fashigiddy."

[alldeduction]

And here is one of the reasons that Sherlock actively likes Punchy - the boy can appreciate his genius when it needs to be appreciated. And Sherlock can't help it, he preens a bit.

And then looks up as Punchy offers an actually incredibly intelligent suggestion.

(Another reason he liked him.)

"Nah." A smile flickered at the edges of his lips before spreading across them. "... High to ride?"

[nunpunching]

"Always, dawg. You know we crew. That shit's church." He holds his hand up to high-five Sherlock. He has bruises on his knuckles, but other than that he looks like he's doing pretty well for the Arena.

He heads to the front seat of the car, though. Time to put in all that knowledge he got from the Fast & the Furious movies and other car porn. He reaches under the dash and grabs some wires, tying them off and fastening them somewhere else.

"Kay, good to go. Gas ain't gonna bust up in here. No one's boosting this car or popping the trunk unless I fix that."

[alldeduction]

He can't help the little smug smile that plays on his lips, and he even gives Punchy the hi-five without edging it in sarcasm. (He could appreciate any sort of enthusiasm for his schemes, in whatever form it came.

His smile turned to something smugly proud as Punchy rewired the car to keep people off from it.

"Ballin'," He said smoothly, turning back towards the stairs and waiting for Punchy to fall in line. "No one's lifted the pirate shit yet?"

[nunpunching]

"No one's lifted the pirate shit." Punchy gives Sherlock a thumbs up, then pops the collar on his pajamas. "Let's roll."