"Yeah, tell me about it. Brain power burns mad calories." So did having the kinetic energy of a tuning fork, Sascha observed, watching Kaldru bounce. "C'mon. I know a good grubdog cart. They set up shop a couple blocks from here around this time of the week." Sascha waved an arm and started walking.
Roadside grubdogs were hardly the pinnacle of Alternian cuisine, but Sascha figured anything you could put zesty red vegetative fruit paste on was popular with kids. At least, going off his own experience as a child. And adolescence. And near-adulthood.
"I've been telekinetic almost as long as I can remember," Sascha replied to the earlier conversation in an attempt to pull himself away from thoughts of ketchup. Damn if he wasn't hungry before. "Not that I've been any good at it. Had to get formal training up at the research center for that."
True to Sascha's word, which was more of a guess to be honest, the shiny metal food cart appeared around the corner. It was manned by a burly orangeblood that looked like he had more business busting kneecaps for protection money than serving food. Sascha continued, completely undeterred.
"Yo, you're not like, vegetarian or something, are you?" Sascha asked, clearly having only stumbled upon the thought that moment. "Or... I dunno. immunosuppressed," he added under his breath, while side-eyeing the street vendor.
quiet delegation
*crawls out of the bloodfest crater*