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Who gave me superpowers?!

[The camera flips from Nightwing's masked face around to a doorway. The door is lying on the ground, ripped clean off its hinges because Nightwing was in a hurry.

It's his first Sanguis...]

I'm not Superman! I don't want to be Superman! No offense to the big guy, but I've been working my whole life to perfect my acrobatics, my detective work, my martial arts, and now-- all of that-- is just going to waste?

[He is not Superman, but he's starting to feel like Superboy circa five years ago.]

Whatever. Now I have to figure out the exact extent of this stupid, stupid development so I don't accidentally kill somebody.

Who's got some heavier-duty doors I can rip off? This one is a good standard control. Actually, I have no idea what the control for this experiment would look like, just that I want to be gathering a lot of data.

[In other words, who wants a fight?]

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I'm guessing you're a Sanguis then? Absurd amount of physical strength, tend to rip knobs off of doors and faucets. I know little of the feeling of the moon cycle itself but, I can help you understand and get a feel for your new found strength. I've undergone something similar before arriving here so I have a good idea of what you're feeling.

A feel, huh?

Tell me a little bit about what you've undergone. I've never wanted to punch someone as badly as I do right now--

[At least, someone who hasn't murdered a friend or family member...]

--And I want to have an idea on how much I should try to hold back. You know, on a scale from peak human to yellow sun-infused Kryptonian?

I have no clue what a...that last thing you mentioned is but, when I arrived here I gained a big boost in my speed. Before arriving here, I was a normal human mutated by a demonic curse. After I could shapeshift, move faster than the eye could track, and generally physically stronger than humans by...a lot.

[The actual recorded write up of his abilities was more accurate with their measurements, but he never really gave a crap. He knows he can split steel and more with a single sword swipe and parry automatic fire, that's good enough for him.]

Admittedly, I've never tested the strength of the Sanguis Moonblessed so this would benefit the both of us. You get to gauge your new found strength, I get more information.

[So Superman's never been here...]

Hey, I'll get some information, too. It's the only way to survive, if you ask me.

[He'd pry for more information about that mutated thing, but the fact that it was a curse makes him wary. He'll wait for information to be volunteered there.]

I'd love to know how this measures up against a speedster. My best friend has super speed, though not as much as he'd like. But he got that from a proven chemical reaction-- there was a speedster in the 1940s who had an accident in his lab, and my friend's uncle replicated the conditions in a controlled experiment. My friend, [being the smartest dumbass teenager Dick has ever met and his absolute best friend ever but still KINDA DUMB] being a fan of both, tried to re-replicate the reaction himself, but it went a little... wrong.

[That's a lot of speedsters he's not sure what to do with.]

That's one way to get powers. [Not that he'll ever volunteer for that nonsense. He was fine being a regular soldier, but well, no use crying over spilled milk.] But if we're doing this, I think I should let you know that those under the Sanguis moon also tend to get more aggressive. Since we're playing with fire here, I hope you keep that in mind. If I end up injured and in the hospital again, my boss might actually fire me.

[Well, Marie might not do that but boy will she be pissed.]

[There's a thoughtful pause after he hears that last bit.

When he speaks again, he's moved the device a little further away from his mouth.]

That's... coming and going. [He's gotten pretty angry in some of these conversations.]

And one of the reasons I want to how far this goes is so I don't misjudge a hit and do that to someone.

But if you'd rather save that for a day when I'm not feeling it, I understand. I'm not sure I know how to control that. I can hear my old fighting teacher saying "Channel your anger!" but she never had to say it to me.

[Anger's never been that much of a problem for him before. Sure, it happens, but there's always been a cause. The angriest he's been was when Tony Zucco murdered his family, and nothing else has quite measured up to that, it was a one-off, and his anger since has been largely limited to sarcasm.]

No. If your emotions are running, the better. We'd get a more accurate grasp of how much power is behind you. Channel your anger, yes, but into your strikes not into your mind.

[His own master told him the same. Emotion is power, don't hinder it. It can save you, save another, and give you strength when it's more important.]

So don't worry about me. Despite what I said, it takes a lot to put me down. Just figured I should mention it since we don't know how much power you can and can't put out.

[And yet he's been taught control all his life. Calm. Thinking.

But this is just another strand of that, isn't it? Channeling anger would require thinking about it. He breathes out.]

Makes me wish I was back home. The prison for people with superpowers has these inhibitor collars that can turn them on and off.

[And electrocute the wearer, but let's not get into that.]

But if it takes a lot to put you down, well, I trust your judgment.

[Takes about a few dozen demons. Or one berserk Devilman. Either one.]

Right. Shall we get to it, then? When and where do you want to meet?

There's a nearby park... [He texts the address.]

As for when, I'm flexible. I mean, you're helping me. The least I can do is not wreck your entire schedule.

Got it.

[ He checks the location versus his mental map of Lunatia. It's not that far from where he is either. ]

Well, if we're going by my schedule, I have work five days a week and I get off in the evenings. That might arguably be better since the moon would be out and there won't be too many people up and about.

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