Gettin' Weird

The Unbreakable Mister Steel, aka Donût, was out for an early morning run. He liked to wake up before the sun had really started to rise, to throw on some sweats and a hoodie that he'd ripped the sleeves off of, and his favorite hot-pink sneakers... To have a quick smoothie that he'd prepared the night before, crammed with veggies and protein and a bit of tropical fruit juice for flavor... and then... to head out the door, stretch, and take a back elevator to the alleys below. From there, he ran. He ran like he did back in the day, before he'd unlocked his full power. When he was just some punk kid with a basic understanding of martial arts, scrapping with guys three times his size in little hole-in-the-wall venues, hoping to make it to the big time. He even put in some earbuds and listened to some instrumental music with a nice beat from his younger days...



Now he was running for President of Earth, and had a few tournaments under his belt. No real wins, but... hey, he could make a book deal out of a loss. In the ring or in the election. If he could just find the time to put his thoughts on paper, or on word processor, in between the TV meetings and the setting up for rallies and the questions from reporters. Why was he running? Did he think he could fix the various problems with Earth that he had noticed since childhood? Did he think he knew best? Or was he willing to listen?

These thoughts were interrupted by the sight of some guy in stereotypical boxers walking into the middle of traffic and getting absolutely destroyed by a car. Just sent flying into the sidewalk and eating pavement. Donût came to a stop, and took the earbuds out of his ears. He quickly made his way to the guy on the sidewalk, who was just pointing his palm at the car and accomplishing nothing. Donût bent down, getting a hold of the stranger's shoulder and arm.

"Woah, buddy, y'alright? Ya got absolutely BLASTED by that car... wut were ya thinkin', just walkin' inta heavy traffic?"

As he asked this, Donût pulled the stranger up and off the ground. He had forgotten his special training weights back home, so he wasn't suppressed like Yogu... Yogu... this guy was Yogu, Donût's rival in the presidential race.

"You uh... ya doin' alright, ya know where ya are?"

"Sure thing, sure thing. A spar an' an autograph are comin' right up... after we get ya sittin', warm, clothed, and restin'."

At first, Donût was content to just lead Yogu in the right direction, since he seemed able to stand on his own and capable of following directions. He gestured for Yogu to follow, and began walking down the sidewalks... then he had a realization. Yogu had just sort of walking through traffic because he wasn't focused, and then he sat down to meditate on the sidewalk in the rain. Not to mention, he had tried to meditate while obviously concussed. Donût had seen and experienced his fair share of concussions, and he knew that one thing you definitely didn't want to do was any sort of heavy thinking. He also knew that people weren't supposed to move around too much if they had a concussion, either.

There was also the problem of one Presidential candidate in his underwear following after another on an early morning walk, while wearing a dazed expression. The press would have heart attacks from the sight, then field days with the story.

Thus, Donût turned, stopped Yogu in his tracks with a gentle press on the chest...

"Hold on..."

...and then Donût got behind him. A quick application of pressure and... Yogu was in Donût's arms, bridal-carry-style. Then Donût pushed on the ground and leaped into the air, gracefully soaring... until he started to fall. The arc of the fall was short, though, since Donût landed on top of a building. He was only on top for a moment, though, before he leaped again. Donût held tight to Yogu, hoping to keep him from falling or wriggling out of his grasp before they arrived at Donût's apartment. Just a few more leaps...

"Figured we might as well take the scenic route! And maybe avoid anybody snappin' pics'f ya in yer underwear. Wouldn't wanna ruin yer sure shot at tha Presidency, after all."