"Sounds about right, seeing as you're acting like spraying the floor will get you fucked up and that's extremely not a thing from my perspective."

"Yeah, it's bullshit," agrees Maxi.

"Cause you sound remarkably eloquent for the insanity explanation, plus stuff did in fact, appear. How you wanna check, head?"

"Well, if you spray on the floor in the wrong pattern, you will summon a powerful extradimensional entity and they aren't all as nice as I am. But since this is an alternate universe I guess this could be a fluke somehow, the only time in all of history of this universe that summoning has worked."

"Matter conjuration and interdimensional travel is one hell of a claim, though. I'm game to try it if you want and it only involves, like, actual drawing."

"I mean, ideally you do it safely, which in this case since I assume you don't want me to teach a semester-long course means that I make most of the circle and you finish it off because it won't work for me as I am non-human."

"You aren't seriously believing this?"

"Where'd this lampshade and this nice sheath come from then, huh? Anyway, sure. If reality is how I think it is, which is what I'm banking on - much less strongly than before, sure, but still - there's no way for that to harm me that you couldn't manage already, after all."

"Oh yeah, we're super dangerous if you don't do it right, I'm just a nice dude." He appears a circle with a highlighted gap in it and hands over a pen.

"Oh, I believe you! Nice guys totally exist." Pen: Draws. The guy, Cleaver, stands back, arms crossed.

Maxi asks, "So you can make stuff? Like... Groceries and home repair stuff maybe?"

"Medicine," Cleaver adds. "Never enough of that in the slums. And I don't mean party drugs by 'medicine', either."

"Yes, I can make all those things. ...if everything were going normally that circle would have been answered in less than a second."

"So it's busted, or the one out there was a fluke, or you're confused in one or more ways."

"Yes. But not about the thing where I can make stuff. That's working as I expect." He makes a chicken nugget and eats it.

"So can I get some groceries?" Asks Maxi, who appears to be rapidly sobering up from whatever was in that white shot.

The other guy is scowling deeper and deeper. "I'm not gonna try and threaten you or anything. In fact, when you start making waves I'd appreciate not bein' named or referred to at all."

"You gotta give me a list if you don't want to wind up with stuff you don't know how to cook," Cam tells Maxi. And, "Sure, I already forgot your name."

"Uhhh...... Kimchi, Catfish filets- Or, wait, real steak! Sriracha sauce! Hold on, let me type up a wishlist actually!" She pulls out a phone.

"Great, I'd appreciate a case of nanite shots just like the one I gave her for the trouble on your way out. But not gonna insist. They do detoxing and that's about it. Oh and free tip, Tower Group Security shoots obvious mutants on sight so you might want to hide the extra appendages if you can."

"What are they going to do if they shoot me and then I get right back up again?" Cam asks, handing over a case of the doodads.

"Shoot you more? Try napalm and drone strikes? I dunno. Seems dangerous for bystanders though."

"Yeah, worth avoiding. What do they have against my fetching appendages?" he asks, putting on a long leather coat that hugs his wings to his back.

"Mutants are all one bad day away from being mass murderers, don'tchaknow. There's mental changes associated with biomods. It's for our protection, see? Total bullshit, obviously."

"Wow. That's not how mine work, but I suppose if someone's been swallowing cherry-picked stories about folks with wings doing mischief then they might not stop to ask."

"Tailed, muzzled, or fanged folks, more usually. Or those with exotic organs that do useful stuff. Grown ones. Metal ones are fine, for some reason." He leans forward and taps a small metal port under his ear. "Also, Tower are total assholes even besides that part. Welcome to Cinci, head."

"That's such a charming thing to call people. I don't seem to have the dialect in enough depth to know how it came about that you call everybody 'head'."

"Me neither."

He heads over to the door and hands off the box of nanite shots to a door-guard, letting in blaring music for a moment.

"Your shopping list almost done?"

She blinks. "-Uh, yeah, sure. What's your phone's KBID, demon guy?"

"I don't have a phone. No service where I live in Hell."

"Well, uh, maybe make one? Nobody trusts big providers you use local nets. Anyway, here." She spins her phone around. It's open to a notes app and lists fancy ingredients (a lot of them from Chinese cuisine) and a bunch of expensive-sounding pre-packaged meals. "And maybe an insulated tote. If I get robbed on the way home at least I'll have steak."

"I can make a local phone but it won't be validly hooked up to anything and I'd need to pick a model." Bag of colding full of all the things on the list.

"Sweet! Sinzil Sheen Pro, 2108 version, with a blank SIM. That's a phone I wish I had. Uh... What now?"

"Now you two get out of my party spot, 'kay? I wish you the best, completely sincerely. Exit's on the left, up the stairs."

"...'kay." Maxi heads to the door.