"I'll walk you to the city limits. The military police are cracking down on curfew breakers and if we need to flash a curfew pass, it's best if it's a local one. I'm trying to keep them from noticing any out-of-state superhero friends coming in and out of the city the rare times they visit."
He had gotten very very careful with his secret ID over the last year or so. Especially since he and the military police had a much worse relationship than he did with the local police and neighborhood watch militias. If they figured out his secret ID, he had a feeling they'd make his life a bureaucratic hell, Defender or not.
It had gotten...rough. The situation in Mexico - in Juarez - was ridiculously bad, even with him constantly working to clean it up as Blue Beetle. That meant things like stricter curfews and more thorough border checks and a host of problems. Those problems made it much harder to get around discreetly to hide that he was Blue Beetle.
Nowadays unless it was a dire emergency, he usually walked right outside of town before changing to his suit and he had any friends coming and going do the same if they were flying in and out.
He checked his wallet to make sure he had his pass. The Defenders had hooked him up with a local one but his dad worked as a trainer with with the local militia and he helped him by puttering around doing a little paper work so nobody was suspicious that he had one.
"Lemme grab something, though."
He darted off to the kitchen and grabbed the paper bag - already prepared - of fajitas all wrapped up in foil.
"Mom already had it ready and no, taking it is not optional. You are getting fed, so says the will of the Almighty Mom."
There is no escaping his mother's cooking, Nate. NO ESCAPE.
no subject
He had gotten very very careful with his secret ID over the last year or so. Especially since he and the military police had a much worse relationship than he did with the local police and neighborhood watch militias. If they figured out his secret ID, he had a feeling they'd make his life a bureaucratic hell, Defender or not.
It had gotten...rough. The situation in Mexico - in Juarez - was ridiculously bad, even with him constantly working to clean it up as Blue Beetle. That meant things like stricter curfews and more thorough border checks and a host of problems. Those problems made it much harder to get around discreetly to hide that he was Blue Beetle.
Nowadays unless it was a dire emergency, he usually walked right outside of town before changing to his suit and he had any friends coming and going do the same if they were flying in and out.
He checked his wallet to make sure he had his pass. The Defenders had hooked him up with a local one but his dad worked as a trainer with with the local militia and he helped him by puttering around doing a little paper work so nobody was suspicious that he had one.
"Lemme grab something, though."
He darted off to the kitchen and grabbed the paper bag - already prepared - of fajitas all wrapped up in foil.
"Mom already had it ready and no, taking it is not optional. You are getting fed, so says the will of the Almighty Mom."
There is no escaping his mother's cooking, Nate. NO ESCAPE.