ErisianDialects
The Purple Sage
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Gloriosa: Shades of Grey - No Heroics.
Gloriosa: Shades of Grey - No Heroics.
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Gloriosa: Shades of Grey [Inactive]
- Thread starter ErisianDialects
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ErisianDialects
The Purple Sage
A city of a thousand cameras. A place where ever increasingly, the concept of privacy was becoming an interesting theoretical concept. London. City on the Thames. Epicenter of the worst out of context problem of the modern era. There wasn't riots, there wasn't anarchy. There was a war being fought, however, even if right now it was being fought in the court of public opinion.
The first few days of confusion had been firmly planted down by his work, and now, he had a surprising amount of Enhanced and Enhanced Sympathizers on side. And the numbers were growing daily, swayed by words, a seeming campaign of proving the government wouldn't care a bit about it's people when faced with catastrophe beyond scope. Detainment. Attempting to legalize segregation once more. The newer generations didn't know outside of textbooks where it was leading.
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/Garrick.jpg.838e706fad0b80f0689a1a13e8339ff9.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17087" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/Garrick.jpg.838e706fad0b80f0689a1a13e8339ff9.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Garrick would take a couple of steps at nine thirty, the crowd starting to form around the tent erected by one of the news shows on the overcast day. Apart from whether or not he was Enhanced, he was totally open about everything in his life, private and public. His record in court was good, seventy percent of cases won. Not bad considering 100% of his clients were guilty, something even the press were glossing over in the wake of his present media campaign.
"Now remember, names are not optional. Donations for the shelters are. There's been a slight increase in prejudice and fear in landlords. Mind you, it's understandable."
He wasn't sitting on the fence. He begrudgingly approved of his opponent's techniques, the ones he couldn't stop, like MI13. He had true respect for that particular enemy, they were handling themselves with grace, even if he recognized a couple of them in the brewing crowd.
"Come back here for sports drinks, snacks if you get hungry."
He would take out a roll of bills, slipping each of the volunteers a fifty pound note.
"Shh, keep it between us."
A wink and his most charming of smiles before he walked into the tent, looking at the news crew setting up. He wasn't sure which show this was, but they wouldn't need him until the protest was Formally underway, or he needed to get into makeup. Since it wasn't going to start without a speech from him to his people, as he called those who followed him, to the point of even offering free legal help to anyone arrested at his rallies.
He walked through a hole they had found in the back of the tent, moving and sitting on one of the equipment cases next to a lovely young woman who held out a rolled cigarette for him, which he accepted with a thanks from.
"So, working for me isn't too bad this days. How much are you skimming off the top, Nicole? Ten percent?"
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/nicole_large.jpg.d120aa1d6884ac5608108be1556448d6.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17086" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/nicole_large.jpg.d120aa1d6884ac5608108be1556448d6.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Fifteen."
"Not bad. Not bad at all. At least fix up the tax records this time. I don't think I can count on another.... heart attack to get me off."
He would lean back a little, taking a long drag, leaning against the support pole.
"I've not seen Louis today, surprised, figured this would get him out of his rathole. Go find out everything you can about the questions they're going to ask me, love."
Nicole tsked and walked into the tent, to schmooze the staff, simper at them.
And Garrick started to wait for his chosen people to arrive. Famous and not. British and not. A cross section of Enhanced Life, in fact. And most of them were photogenic. There was the occasional nutjob, but well, there were always extremists. So he waited, chain-smoking in his nervousness. No matter how much he did. Always nervous. He would look at his watch. The early ones would probably be here soon.
The first few days of confusion had been firmly planted down by his work, and now, he had a surprising amount of Enhanced and Enhanced Sympathizers on side. And the numbers were growing daily, swayed by words, a seeming campaign of proving the government wouldn't care a bit about it's people when faced with catastrophe beyond scope. Detainment. Attempting to legalize segregation once more. The newer generations didn't know outside of textbooks where it was leading.
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/Garrick.jpg.838e706fad0b80f0689a1a13e8339ff9.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17087" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/Garrick.jpg.838e706fad0b80f0689a1a13e8339ff9.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Garrick would take a couple of steps at nine thirty, the crowd starting to form around the tent erected by one of the news shows on the overcast day. Apart from whether or not he was Enhanced, he was totally open about everything in his life, private and public. His record in court was good, seventy percent of cases won. Not bad considering 100% of his clients were guilty, something even the press were glossing over in the wake of his present media campaign.
"Now remember, names are not optional. Donations for the shelters are. There's been a slight increase in prejudice and fear in landlords. Mind you, it's understandable."
He wasn't sitting on the fence. He begrudgingly approved of his opponent's techniques, the ones he couldn't stop, like MI13. He had true respect for that particular enemy, they were handling themselves with grace, even if he recognized a couple of them in the brewing crowd.
"Come back here for sports drinks, snacks if you get hungry."
He would take out a roll of bills, slipping each of the volunteers a fifty pound note.
"Shh, keep it between us."
A wink and his most charming of smiles before he walked into the tent, looking at the news crew setting up. He wasn't sure which show this was, but they wouldn't need him until the protest was Formally underway, or he needed to get into makeup. Since it wasn't going to start without a speech from him to his people, as he called those who followed him, to the point of even offering free legal help to anyone arrested at his rallies.
He walked through a hole they had found in the back of the tent, moving and sitting on one of the equipment cases next to a lovely young woman who held out a rolled cigarette for him, which he accepted with a thanks from.
"So, working for me isn't too bad this days. How much are you skimming off the top, Nicole? Ten percent?"
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/nicole_large.jpg.d120aa1d6884ac5608108be1556448d6.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17086" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/nicole_large.jpg.d120aa1d6884ac5608108be1556448d6.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Fifteen."
"Not bad. Not bad at all. At least fix up the tax records this time. I don't think I can count on another.... heart attack to get me off."
He would lean back a little, taking a long drag, leaning against the support pole.
"I've not seen Louis today, surprised, figured this would get him out of his rathole. Go find out everything you can about the questions they're going to ask me, love."
Nicole tsked and walked into the tent, to schmooze the staff, simper at them.
And Garrick started to wait for his chosen people to arrive. Famous and not. British and not. A cross section of Enhanced Life, in fact. And most of them were photogenic. There was the occasional nutjob, but well, there were always extremists. So he waited, chain-smoking in his nervousness. No matter how much he did. Always nervous. He would look at his watch. The early ones would probably be here soon.
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usagi froggy
Rhythm Heaven Enjoyer
So, like, I got this weird letter thingy a couple days ago and, like, I was soooo unsure what to do with it. It was talking about some stupid petition thingy and a rally or whatever. I mean, I know a rally is, like, a kind of race or something? But whatevs. I took a picture of the little crummy letter thing and asked my lovely Twitter followers what I should do about it. By the way, my fans are called the Perf Princesses, and I'm their queen, I mean, isn't that just soooo cute? It's like I'm their ruler like Lady Gaga. So, anyways, I posted the picture and everyone was all like, "Dude, you should probably go to this thing or something and then write a blog post about it when it's done." I thought that idea was totes amazeballs so I decided that I would go.
Now, it's today, so I had to go get ready for everything. I picked out a totally fetch outfit and did my hair all curly and beautiful. I decided my makeup today would be a bit of a darker look. Since I have a Youtube channel, I made a little makeup tutorial on my darker look and I'm sure it'll get a ton of views after I finish my little meetup thingy. I got my pursey wursey and told my mom she needed to drive me to this meeting thing.
"Um, Allison, don't you think this is a bit... sketchy?" she asked me.
"Uh, no! I mean, if you can't trust random letters slipped under your door what CAN you trust, you stupid mom?!" I was so furious with her. I stomped into her car and slumped into the cheap seat, "ugh, your car is so LAME!"
"Well, it's all we've got, so stop complaining you little brat, I don't have to drive you to this," she said, which is soooo uncool! I thought she loved me!
"Ugh, fine, just get off my back, okay!?"
We finally got to that little place and there were soooo many people. I knew that some of them were looking at me because I'm such a celeb. I'm, like, a little rising star, starting to fall into their hearts. I pulled out my sparkly, bedazzled iPhone and checked the time. It was 9:50, so I had ten minutes to spare. I took a selfie and tweeted. It was #massfanselfie. I mean, so cool right? I played a level of Candy Crush and posted about the protest on Facebook and noticed it was almost ten. I went back behind the stupid little tent and saw a guy. I was kinda scared since they have this kinda stuff on "To Catch a Predator" and I know they'd want a gorge girl like me. I looked at him, kinda scared, "Uh, what do you want, old guy?"
Now, it's today, so I had to go get ready for everything. I picked out a totally fetch outfit and did my hair all curly and beautiful. I decided my makeup today would be a bit of a darker look. Since I have a Youtube channel, I made a little makeup tutorial on my darker look and I'm sure it'll get a ton of views after I finish my little meetup thingy. I got my pursey wursey and told my mom she needed to drive me to this meeting thing.
"Um, Allison, don't you think this is a bit... sketchy?" she asked me.
"Uh, no! I mean, if you can't trust random letters slipped under your door what CAN you trust, you stupid mom?!" I was so furious with her. I stomped into her car and slumped into the cheap seat, "ugh, your car is so LAME!"
"Well, it's all we've got, so stop complaining you little brat, I don't have to drive you to this," she said, which is soooo uncool! I thought she loved me!
"Ugh, fine, just get off my back, okay!?"
We finally got to that little place and there were soooo many people. I knew that some of them were looking at me because I'm such a celeb. I'm, like, a little rising star, starting to fall into their hearts. I pulled out my sparkly, bedazzled iPhone and checked the time. It was 9:50, so I had ten minutes to spare. I took a selfie and tweeted. It was #massfanselfie. I mean, so cool right? I played a level of Candy Crush and posted about the protest on Facebook and noticed it was almost ten. I went back behind the stupid little tent and saw a guy. I was kinda scared since they have this kinda stuff on "To Catch a Predator" and I know they'd want a gorge girl like me. I looked at him, kinda scared, "Uh, what do you want, old guy?"
Kagura
Robot Sheep
Ashley scratched at his shoulder blade, drumming his other hand's fingers against his thigh as his eyes darted around all too quickly. Again they landed on his disposal bin, drawn by the note he just discarded rather cruelly. He cursed and got up, moving the hand that was tapping to his mouth, biting at nails that never had the chance to fully grown out. The other hand moved to scratch its companion as Ashley began moving, pacing back and forth in his rundown apartment. It was not long before he kicked at the bin, frustration tearing at him as he grabbed and tugged at the locks of his hair.
Messing his hair back up, he flopped on the couch, feeling the familiar springs jab at him and the smell of old food hit his nose. Enhanced- as if it was not enough that the man was a foreigner he was handed another flaw on what seemed to be a golden platter. Maybe this was all a hallucination; that was probably his best hope to go back to his old life. As if that shit hole was any better...
The apartment he was living in was falling apart, the construction work left half-finished and the floors warped from water damage. All he had to look forward to in life was going to a meeting every month with other recovering addicts. These were the same addicts who completed the program with him two years ago, half of them already relapsing. The only thing the program had done for him was secure a job, and it was neither stable or paid enough for anything but the bare minimum. Then again, he could not expect anyone else to hire a recovering addict.
That equation now included his parents, who provided him with allowance that was not as much good here. The plan always was to move back to America, but first he had to live through the year of recoveree meetings. Six months ago that plan was torn apart when he woke up 'enhanced'- there really was no other way to describe it. Ashley felt it immediately and was reminded when he was an addict; he could not sleep very well and his body itched more than usual. He filled up his days with learning to control his power- and the days after with re-nourishing and trying to find another job.
It was two months ago he got one at a local pub, a shady little place where the drunkards went when their usual places closed for the night. Regulars always came to watch the fun, and Ashley bet if he lost control momentarily no drunk would be the wiser. It was not like it was an exact secret that he was enhanced though, but it seemed the pub was far enough away no one recognized him or no one cared. Judging by the news they showcased on the telly, it was most likely the prior, almost making Ashley want to drink himself.
He had his time with his drug of choice, though...
Idly, his hand made circles on the ground, dragging its path around and around and around as he lay moping on the couch. The letter that was slipped under his door was still an ever-present image in his head, still remembering the details despite tearing it up. What good would a rally do anyways? A petition? They would still be looked at weird, still be given their wide berth, still be shot at...
He was happy where he was...he figured if he reminded himself enough it would be true.
Ashley realized he was scratching again, and pulled his hand away from his chest, standing up to grab something from the fridge. He realized he was eating more often in his sleepless hours as the night stretched into days. Grabbing a cold slice of pizza from the fridge, he began eating, picking up the disposal bin and seeing the familiar shreds of paper. Once again, the blonde cursed at himself- he was bothered about not having answers. What made him so special that he was 'enhanced', why couldn't it be someone else? Ashley took his time with the pizza, staring at the shreds of paper on the floor as he chewed.
He was stupid, and he would probably regret this later.
With his mind made up, he left the crust on the counter, in no hurry to get ready for the meeting. The only clock in his house said he had about ten minutes until 10, and he did not mind being late. Given where the rally was he would most likely have time to spare. So he the time to jump into a quick shower, before quickly toweling off and getting dressed. A pair of slack jeans and t-shirt, and he was on his way, moving through the streets of London all the while keeping his power in check.
There were a few moments in which he could get away with it, and he used them to his advantage but as he got closer the streets grew crowded. It took him a decent time dodging around people to make his way to the tent in the back, and he righted himself before entering. A man he recognized to be on the news often and a young girl stood inside. It took him a second glance at the young girl to realize he recognized her too- but not sure from where. The only place he hung out was a bar and his shady apartment...unless it was a while ago they met?
Ashley quickly brushed away the nagging familiarity, and looked once more at the man who he assumed called them there. Garrick, if he remembered his name from the news, the same man who had been advocating for their rights and freedoms. Ashley frowned, he was actually more interested in becoming normal again. His hand was scratching his neck again, and it was then that the frail man addressed the two.
"So where does a creep like you get information on little girls?"
Ashley remembered the words on the flier, and could only guess that the girl had gotten the same slipped under her door. The man was visibly frowning, and he ran his hand through his hair again, spiking it out as he stared down the two.
Messing his hair back up, he flopped on the couch, feeling the familiar springs jab at him and the smell of old food hit his nose. Enhanced- as if it was not enough that the man was a foreigner he was handed another flaw on what seemed to be a golden platter. Maybe this was all a hallucination; that was probably his best hope to go back to his old life. As if that shit hole was any better...
The apartment he was living in was falling apart, the construction work left half-finished and the floors warped from water damage. All he had to look forward to in life was going to a meeting every month with other recovering addicts. These were the same addicts who completed the program with him two years ago, half of them already relapsing. The only thing the program had done for him was secure a job, and it was neither stable or paid enough for anything but the bare minimum. Then again, he could not expect anyone else to hire a recovering addict.
That equation now included his parents, who provided him with allowance that was not as much good here. The plan always was to move back to America, but first he had to live through the year of recoveree meetings. Six months ago that plan was torn apart when he woke up 'enhanced'- there really was no other way to describe it. Ashley felt it immediately and was reminded when he was an addict; he could not sleep very well and his body itched more than usual. He filled up his days with learning to control his power- and the days after with re-nourishing and trying to find another job.
It was two months ago he got one at a local pub, a shady little place where the drunkards went when their usual places closed for the night. Regulars always came to watch the fun, and Ashley bet if he lost control momentarily no drunk would be the wiser. It was not like it was an exact secret that he was enhanced though, but it seemed the pub was far enough away no one recognized him or no one cared. Judging by the news they showcased on the telly, it was most likely the prior, almost making Ashley want to drink himself.
He had his time with his drug of choice, though...
Idly, his hand made circles on the ground, dragging its path around and around and around as he lay moping on the couch. The letter that was slipped under his door was still an ever-present image in his head, still remembering the details despite tearing it up. What good would a rally do anyways? A petition? They would still be looked at weird, still be given their wide berth, still be shot at...
He was happy where he was...he figured if he reminded himself enough it would be true.
Ashley realized he was scratching again, and pulled his hand away from his chest, standing up to grab something from the fridge. He realized he was eating more often in his sleepless hours as the night stretched into days. Grabbing a cold slice of pizza from the fridge, he began eating, picking up the disposal bin and seeing the familiar shreds of paper. Once again, the blonde cursed at himself- he was bothered about not having answers. What made him so special that he was 'enhanced', why couldn't it be someone else? Ashley took his time with the pizza, staring at the shreds of paper on the floor as he chewed.
He was stupid, and he would probably regret this later.
With his mind made up, he left the crust on the counter, in no hurry to get ready for the meeting. The only clock in his house said he had about ten minutes until 10, and he did not mind being late. Given where the rally was he would most likely have time to spare. So he the time to jump into a quick shower, before quickly toweling off and getting dressed. A pair of slack jeans and t-shirt, and he was on his way, moving through the streets of London all the while keeping his power in check.
There were a few moments in which he could get away with it, and he used them to his advantage but as he got closer the streets grew crowded. It took him a decent time dodging around people to make his way to the tent in the back, and he righted himself before entering. A man he recognized to be on the news often and a young girl stood inside. It took him a second glance at the young girl to realize he recognized her too- but not sure from where. The only place he hung out was a bar and his shady apartment...unless it was a while ago they met?
Ashley quickly brushed away the nagging familiarity, and looked once more at the man who he assumed called them there. Garrick, if he remembered his name from the news, the same man who had been advocating for their rights and freedoms. Ashley frowned, he was actually more interested in becoming normal again. His hand was scratching his neck again, and it was then that the frail man addressed the two.
"So where does a creep like you get information on little girls?"
Ashley remembered the words on the flier, and could only guess that the girl had gotten the same slipped under her door. The man was visibly frowning, and he ran his hand through his hair again, spiking it out as he stared down the two.
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Goddess
Computer Nerd
Kiyo was outside of an apartment building with three other males who all towered over her. One had his back against the wall with a smoke in his mouth, taking long huffs before blowing it out into o's. The other male was sitting down, his head up toward the sky but his eyes were looking at the flyer that Kiyo had given him. The third was lighting up a smoke for Kiyo , his other hand covering the flame so no wind would make it go out. Kiyo nodded her head in thanks and took a drag before leaning her head against he wall and watching citizens walk by. The old woman held their nose, shooing away the smoking. Kids ran past them, some stuck out their tongues to them while others tripped over one of her friends legs. He didn't like being mocked so his only way of making things just is tripping them. They would fall and cry, their parents rushing over to their aid. He would get yelled at and get raids of middle fingers and kicks to his legs. The once closest to Kiyo would laugh and scold him on tripping them, always saying extend your legs out further. He never told him not to do it, the sight of kids crying made him happier inside.
"So who gave you the flyer."
Kiyo shrugged as she flicked the smoke away and walked over toward the one that was sitting. Bending down she grabbed flyer and turned it to where she would be able to look over it again. Kiyo wasn't all for drama, fighting, anything that dealt with bullshit or violence. This flyer had all of the above written all over it. Enhanced , rally's. Rally's never led to anything good, a few punches here, a few kicks there. Next thing you know you see blood, you hear screams, most of all you hear the shot the caused the scream. What once was nothing but talk was now rushing violence, someone got shot , someone didn't stay calm, opinions don't matter. She crumbled up the paper and tossed it toward a bin that was behind her.
"You going?"
"Depends, I have five more naps I need to take, looking at the place and time..I might miss them. You know how I don't like missing my nap time."
The guy laughed a little as she stood up from his seating position, dusting off his rear end as he wrapped his arm around her. He was the first in her little crew that accepted she was enhanced. He thought it was a gift, being able to lift things that even he couldn't. He started to walk her away from the others, waving bye to them as they did the same. They knew he had a thing for Kiyo, he just never voiced it to her. Kiyo had a hint about what was brewing between them , sad to say he wasn't her type. Kiyo wouldn't reject his attempts of asking her out or taking her place, it wasn't her right. Plus she had soft spots for guys like him, it was when they made moves she had to put her foot down.
"You should go, you could help them. Don't you want to help your fellow enhanced. I know you don't like drama and all but you can't escape that."
"I can't escape it but I can avoid it. You should know me by know, if I don't know you then I don't care about you. I could care less if I'm the last enhanced, that just makes me more deadly and more special. If you want me to go I'll go. I'll stay for a little while then I'll come back. "
"See that's fine by me. We'll wait on dinner then."
He let her go at the corner of a street where up ahead were tents and lingering people. He could tell she was upset when she shoved her hands in her pockets and was hunched over. Laughing he left her be, Kiyo looking back to see him walk away. She cursed in her mind and kicked small things that people left on the street. Walking into the entrance near the tents she looked around. People began to stare and others whispered. mumbling under her breath she entered a tent where some voice came from. Standing close to the entrance she saw a couple of people. None she knew or care to know, she's never seen them and never heard of them. She dumb down the clues on who sent the flyer. Looking toward the man in the tux she gave him a sharp glare and a low hiss.
"Are you the drama starter? The flyer guy? The one whose disturbing my nap time?
"So who gave you the flyer."
Kiyo shrugged as she flicked the smoke away and walked over toward the one that was sitting. Bending down she grabbed flyer and turned it to where she would be able to look over it again. Kiyo wasn't all for drama, fighting, anything that dealt with bullshit or violence. This flyer had all of the above written all over it. Enhanced , rally's. Rally's never led to anything good, a few punches here, a few kicks there. Next thing you know you see blood, you hear screams, most of all you hear the shot the caused the scream. What once was nothing but talk was now rushing violence, someone got shot , someone didn't stay calm, opinions don't matter. She crumbled up the paper and tossed it toward a bin that was behind her.
"You going?"
"Depends, I have five more naps I need to take, looking at the place and time..I might miss them. You know how I don't like missing my nap time."
The guy laughed a little as she stood up from his seating position, dusting off his rear end as he wrapped his arm around her. He was the first in her little crew that accepted she was enhanced. He thought it was a gift, being able to lift things that even he couldn't. He started to walk her away from the others, waving bye to them as they did the same. They knew he had a thing for Kiyo, he just never voiced it to her. Kiyo had a hint about what was brewing between them , sad to say he wasn't her type. Kiyo wouldn't reject his attempts of asking her out or taking her place, it wasn't her right. Plus she had soft spots for guys like him, it was when they made moves she had to put her foot down.
"You should go, you could help them. Don't you want to help your fellow enhanced. I know you don't like drama and all but you can't escape that."
"I can't escape it but I can avoid it. You should know me by know, if I don't know you then I don't care about you. I could care less if I'm the last enhanced, that just makes me more deadly and more special. If you want me to go I'll go. I'll stay for a little while then I'll come back. "
"See that's fine by me. We'll wait on dinner then."
He let her go at the corner of a street where up ahead were tents and lingering people. He could tell she was upset when she shoved her hands in her pockets and was hunched over. Laughing he left her be, Kiyo looking back to see him walk away. She cursed in her mind and kicked small things that people left on the street. Walking into the entrance near the tents she looked around. People began to stare and others whispered. mumbling under her breath she entered a tent where some voice came from. Standing close to the entrance she saw a couple of people. None she knew or care to know, she's never seen them and never heard of them. She dumb down the clues on who sent the flyer. Looking toward the man in the tux she gave him a sharp glare and a low hiss.
"Are you the drama starter? The flyer guy? The one whose disturbing my nap time?
Killigrew
Magnificent Humanicorn
The vibratory hum pulsed through the underground train; it slipped down the line as a fleeting light in channeled darkness. The rapid travel was at once soothing and exhilarating to Mary, and she watched the blurred lights zip by through the translucent square frame.
"The guy sounds like a creep." Anna's voice broke the meditative silence. "'I know who and what you are'." Her low voice was raised in a mocking lilt with the words, drawing a half-smile across Mary's face. "Who writes that? Is this one of those zealot guys? Those 'Enhanced' activists? Someone tell them they've got the wrong girl." A chuckle rippled Anna's freckled features, and then her elbow nudged Mary's side. "....Why are you going, again?"
"Because she's curious." To Mary's right, Henry spoke up before her.
Anna's brow tightened. "There's more to it, there's gotta be."
"So what if there is? It's Mary's business, not yours."
"No, no... Anna's right. There is... a little more to it. Things have been weird lately." Mary said the words quickly, before things between the two, as they were prone to, escalated. "Ever since a few months ago... I've been finding money in the streets. Whole 20s. No one comes to claim them. If I'm late for the subway, it's always got some delay at that very station. I started having good grades on tests -- and not because I study more. It's because the professor overlooks my wrong answers and then even if I let them know, they gives me the points because 'I'm being honest'." She looked to Anna searchingly, meeting the girl's doubtful gaze. "I thought it was nothing, but it keeps happening, in different ways. It's not normal. Something's changed."
"It sounds plenty normal." "Nothing's changed."
Henry and Anna both spoke up at once and exchanged a sour face of mutual dislike.
Henry kept going. "You're overthinking it, Mary. That's happened to all of us one time or another."
"But I got the letter. Me." Mary said, gesturing to the paper in Anna's hands. "Did either of you?"
"Well, no, but.." Henry glanced at Anna.
"That's just bad luck." She said.
"Maybe..." Mary murmured. It wasn't much to go on. It was barely a guess. "Maybe you're right. But I want to go anyway. If only because I want to know their side of it, in person."
Henry sighed, exasperation emanating off him, and Anna shrugged, saying, "Do what you think's best. We'll stick around."
The train doors slid open and the small group slipped out with the flowing crowd, finding their way to the subway steps and emerging to a city both foreign and familiar.
The building wasn't far from their stop; a few blocks of walking, a careful scanning of the signs and sights lead them to the destined area.
When they came upon the tent, behind the placing area, Mary's friends stood beside her, and she turned towards them, her parting words pre-prepared.
But Henry seemed to perceive her intent ahead of time. He shook his brown head, discomfort coloring his pale face. "If you aren't back in five minutes, I'm coming in after you."
"I'll call the gaver." Anna said soberly.
Mary smiled nervously, enveloping them both in warm hugs.
Readjusting her glasses, Mary waded through the crowd to the tent, pushing over the flap to peer inside. Seeing three standing backs, and getting a whiff of the smoke-laden interior, Mary covered her nose with the back of her hand as she stepped inside. The same flier bundled up in her other hand as the one the girl presented, Mary squinted at the suited, smoking fellow comfortably seated in the corner.
She recognized him immediately, his face had been showing up on the news, plastered on posters, whispered in reverence and distaste alike across her University campus.
He was half celebrity, half villain, and there was some purpose in this group he'd called. Mary glanced over the others again, seeing the array of individuals and closing her open mouth.
For whatever reason she'd been called, Mary remained, now intrigued, her left hand closing around the now crumpled paper. She expected something enlightening, and the curiosity that first drew her here pressed her further forward.
"I'm Mary Shelley." She said quickly, bowing her head and almost curtseying. Hopefully this was the right place.
"The guy sounds like a creep." Anna's voice broke the meditative silence. "'I know who and what you are'." Her low voice was raised in a mocking lilt with the words, drawing a half-smile across Mary's face. "Who writes that? Is this one of those zealot guys? Those 'Enhanced' activists? Someone tell them they've got the wrong girl." A chuckle rippled Anna's freckled features, and then her elbow nudged Mary's side. "....Why are you going, again?"
"Because she's curious." To Mary's right, Henry spoke up before her.
Anna's brow tightened. "There's more to it, there's gotta be."
"So what if there is? It's Mary's business, not yours."
"No, no... Anna's right. There is... a little more to it. Things have been weird lately." Mary said the words quickly, before things between the two, as they were prone to, escalated. "Ever since a few months ago... I've been finding money in the streets. Whole 20s. No one comes to claim them. If I'm late for the subway, it's always got some delay at that very station. I started having good grades on tests -- and not because I study more. It's because the professor overlooks my wrong answers and then even if I let them know, they gives me the points because 'I'm being honest'." She looked to Anna searchingly, meeting the girl's doubtful gaze. "I thought it was nothing, but it keeps happening, in different ways. It's not normal. Something's changed."
"It sounds plenty normal." "Nothing's changed."
Henry and Anna both spoke up at once and exchanged a sour face of mutual dislike.
Henry kept going. "You're overthinking it, Mary. That's happened to all of us one time or another."
"But I got the letter. Me." Mary said, gesturing to the paper in Anna's hands. "Did either of you?"
"Well, no, but.." Henry glanced at Anna.
"That's just bad luck." She said.
"Maybe..." Mary murmured. It wasn't much to go on. It was barely a guess. "Maybe you're right. But I want to go anyway. If only because I want to know their side of it, in person."
Henry sighed, exasperation emanating off him, and Anna shrugged, saying, "Do what you think's best. We'll stick around."
The train doors slid open and the small group slipped out with the flowing crowd, finding their way to the subway steps and emerging to a city both foreign and familiar.
The building wasn't far from their stop; a few blocks of walking, a careful scanning of the signs and sights lead them to the destined area.
When they came upon the tent, behind the placing area, Mary's friends stood beside her, and she turned towards them, her parting words pre-prepared.
But Henry seemed to perceive her intent ahead of time. He shook his brown head, discomfort coloring his pale face. "If you aren't back in five minutes, I'm coming in after you."
"I'll call the gaver." Anna said soberly.
Mary smiled nervously, enveloping them both in warm hugs.
Readjusting her glasses, Mary waded through the crowd to the tent, pushing over the flap to peer inside. Seeing three standing backs, and getting a whiff of the smoke-laden interior, Mary covered her nose with the back of her hand as she stepped inside. The same flier bundled up in her other hand as the one the girl presented, Mary squinted at the suited, smoking fellow comfortably seated in the corner.
She recognized him immediately, his face had been showing up on the news, plastered on posters, whispered in reverence and distaste alike across her University campus.
He was half celebrity, half villain, and there was some purpose in this group he'd called. Mary glanced over the others again, seeing the array of individuals and closing her open mouth.
For whatever reason she'd been called, Mary remained, now intrigued, her left hand closing around the now crumpled paper. She expected something enlightening, and the curiosity that first drew her here pressed her further forward.
"I'm Mary Shelley." She said quickly, bowing her head and almost curtseying. Hopefully this was the right place.
Hatchet
Blunt and Sharp
There was nothing to see with the naked eye from the eastward windows, but Louis stared out anyway. Sweet scent of roobila and ginger curled up to his nose, briefly masking the stale odors of carpet, sweat and paper. The classically overcast day wasn’t likely to break before the sun as the morning wore on but the clouds were too thin for any real piss to come down from above. There had been so much anticipation about this day, this rally, but now they were on the edge of it, and it was just another day. The steam from Louis’ unfinished tea slowly fogged the window, creeping up and dissipating in uncertain waves. Behind him hummed half a dozen machines and the glow of eleven different monitors cast unnatural color in competition with the fluorescent bulbs buzzing overhead. Just thinking about the chaos made his head hurt, but the three techs managing the brunt of it were in their element.
A quiet sigh whirled through the steam and scattered the fog before Louis turned back to face it all. One monitor balanced five camera angles helpfully granted by London CCTV, but the rest were scattered in origin. Louis scanned the footage streaming from four of the operatives he had in the crowd, mingling and observing, looking for any faces recognizable after the last month of studying and data collection. One steady infrared camera head a view of the publicity tent and the bobbing blurred motion of the growing crowd. The rally seemed like a decent opportunity to see if Enhanced individuals stood out from a mixed crowd in other ways. Thank you Rake.
There was supposed to be a meeting, but the selected and invited participants certainly were taking their time about showing up. It was wearing at Louis’ nerves and he turned to the window again, grinding his teeth for several seconds before forcing down a mouthful of tea. Punctuality was a virtue, but of eleven people one might expect an early bird or two, or someone scoping out the area before moving in, but neither his distance nor his on-site operatives had caught a glimpse of such.
“Sir.” The tea sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the cup but didn’t spill when Louis flinched slightly, and he turned to Clemens expectantly. “Breeze just updated her Twitter, she’s down there.”
“Of course she did,” Louis murmured, crossing the office to stand behind Clemens’ shoulder. He had three monitors dedicated to live feeds of Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, news sites following the rally with key focus on suspected and known Enhanced individuals. Glancing at the CCTV feeds again he spotted the little blonde popstar fiddling with her mobile. “Let me know if she posts anything interesting.”
“You mean you’re not interested in her Candy Crush stats?” That quip came from Robin. The one-eared headset she wore put her in charge of directing the guys in the crowd.
The uncomfortable plastic Louis had strapped to his head subject his ear to anything the mid-range operatives deigned to share. “I’ve got two moving towards the tent.” Even through the earpiece, Jayden’s voice was a basso rumble. “East bound, Plaskett and Fender, Plaskett’s closer.”
Louis scanned the monitors again, but couldn’t find either. “Robin, move Amim back to the news crew vans and keep him there.” It annoyed him that it hadn’t been obvious to her to do that in the first place. The publicity tent had been angled to give the two CCTV cams crossing it a lovely view of the flank and a couple of placed vans made all the coming and going anonymous. That was all well and good but Louis wanted to see who went in and out. “Hold, scan back a few feet.” Robin repeated the command and Amim’s feed slowed and shifted obediently.
It wasn’t the endearingly embraced young adults that caught Louis’ darting glance but the riotously distinctive figure of Kiyo Fender who was passing them and a second look picked out another individual Louis was on the watch for. Mary Shelley had no exceptional coloring or look to show her out from a crowd, but after studying her face for two weeks Louis recognized her in an instant. “Find out who she’s with,” he said to Draghici, whose primary task was watching the monitors when Louis wasn’t and going after specific intel rapidly while Clemens just collected everything. Louis switched his headset to Robin’s channel for a few moments. “Go around them, Amim, don’t overtake Fender.”
“Good catch,” Clemens murmured when Louis switched back.
“That’s what they pay him for,” Robin retorted and Louis didn’t bother to correct her then.
Jayden’s lens him a grainy shot of Ashley Plaskett’s back as he disappeared into the tent after Allison Breeze. One, two, three, four little ducks wandered into Rake’s game. Louis shook his head slightly and sipped the cooling tea again, pacing back to the window. Still gray, still too far to see anything with the naked eye, and the roobila had withered away in the reek of the office.
“Koiichi’s doing splendid.” Louis jerked again, this time at Robin’s sudden voice and berated himself for the nervous tension. “Look at this.” Louis obliged and moved behind her. Robin scrolled both monitors to show the names and data the chameleon operative had already wrangled for her, some only partial names or clearly nicknames, but even those Robin had been able to dig behind to find personal info, Facebook and social media feeds to pass to Clemens, clear facial shots that crossed with public records. Dozens of lives exposed at her fingertips, and their future in Louis’ command. He unclenched his teeth to finish the tea in a long gulp. “Sir?”
“I’ll review it in a minute,” Louis answered her grimly. Now wasn’t the time. He looked over the monitors slowly now, clouded blue eyes flicking between the camera feeds and the infrared but that would also need to be cross referenced later by more eyes than his. Maybe it was pointless. “Find Lefou.” That command went to all six operatives in observation. It would be useful to know if the man would show as an officer or in civilian, if he obliged the anonymous flyer at all.
With a last glance at the east windows, Louis dropped into a rolling chair between Robin and Draghici, setting the empty tea cup beside the keyboard. The cushion was still faintly warmed from the last time he had sat before apprehension drove him to pace and drink. “Send what’s uncertain, add the definite ones to the list and update.” Files raced from Robin’s monitor to his, names and partial information on those that claimed to Koiichi, unobtrusive and geeky, that they’re Enhanced, there to support themselves, their fellows and to resist the dehumanization by the government. The definite ones had gone so far as to show the operative; such was Koiichi’s gift of persuasion. Now Louis had to decide who was a liar, and who was worth rounding up with the rest when the fit hit the shan.
A quiet sigh whirled through the steam and scattered the fog before Louis turned back to face it all. One monitor balanced five camera angles helpfully granted by London CCTV, but the rest were scattered in origin. Louis scanned the footage streaming from four of the operatives he had in the crowd, mingling and observing, looking for any faces recognizable after the last month of studying and data collection. One steady infrared camera head a view of the publicity tent and the bobbing blurred motion of the growing crowd. The rally seemed like a decent opportunity to see if Enhanced individuals stood out from a mixed crowd in other ways. Thank you Rake.
There was supposed to be a meeting, but the selected and invited participants certainly were taking their time about showing up. It was wearing at Louis’ nerves and he turned to the window again, grinding his teeth for several seconds before forcing down a mouthful of tea. Punctuality was a virtue, but of eleven people one might expect an early bird or two, or someone scoping out the area before moving in, but neither his distance nor his on-site operatives had caught a glimpse of such.
“Sir.” The tea sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the cup but didn’t spill when Louis flinched slightly, and he turned to Clemens expectantly. “Breeze just updated her Twitter, she’s down there.”
“Of course she did,” Louis murmured, crossing the office to stand behind Clemens’ shoulder. He had three monitors dedicated to live feeds of Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, news sites following the rally with key focus on suspected and known Enhanced individuals. Glancing at the CCTV feeds again he spotted the little blonde popstar fiddling with her mobile. “Let me know if she posts anything interesting.”
“You mean you’re not interested in her Candy Crush stats?” That quip came from Robin. The one-eared headset she wore put her in charge of directing the guys in the crowd.
The uncomfortable plastic Louis had strapped to his head subject his ear to anything the mid-range operatives deigned to share. “I’ve got two moving towards the tent.” Even through the earpiece, Jayden’s voice was a basso rumble. “East bound, Plaskett and Fender, Plaskett’s closer.”
Louis scanned the monitors again, but couldn’t find either. “Robin, move Amim back to the news crew vans and keep him there.” It annoyed him that it hadn’t been obvious to her to do that in the first place. The publicity tent had been angled to give the two CCTV cams crossing it a lovely view of the flank and a couple of placed vans made all the coming and going anonymous. That was all well and good but Louis wanted to see who went in and out. “Hold, scan back a few feet.” Robin repeated the command and Amim’s feed slowed and shifted obediently.
It wasn’t the endearingly embraced young adults that caught Louis’ darting glance but the riotously distinctive figure of Kiyo Fender who was passing them and a second look picked out another individual Louis was on the watch for. Mary Shelley had no exceptional coloring or look to show her out from a crowd, but after studying her face for two weeks Louis recognized her in an instant. “Find out who she’s with,” he said to Draghici, whose primary task was watching the monitors when Louis wasn’t and going after specific intel rapidly while Clemens just collected everything. Louis switched his headset to Robin’s channel for a few moments. “Go around them, Amim, don’t overtake Fender.”
“Good catch,” Clemens murmured when Louis switched back.
“That’s what they pay him for,” Robin retorted and Louis didn’t bother to correct her then.
Jayden’s lens him a grainy shot of Ashley Plaskett’s back as he disappeared into the tent after Allison Breeze. One, two, three, four little ducks wandered into Rake’s game. Louis shook his head slightly and sipped the cooling tea again, pacing back to the window. Still gray, still too far to see anything with the naked eye, and the roobila had withered away in the reek of the office.
“Koiichi’s doing splendid.” Louis jerked again, this time at Robin’s sudden voice and berated himself for the nervous tension. “Look at this.” Louis obliged and moved behind her. Robin scrolled both monitors to show the names and data the chameleon operative had already wrangled for her, some only partial names or clearly nicknames, but even those Robin had been able to dig behind to find personal info, Facebook and social media feeds to pass to Clemens, clear facial shots that crossed with public records. Dozens of lives exposed at her fingertips, and their future in Louis’ command. He unclenched his teeth to finish the tea in a long gulp. “Sir?”
“I’ll review it in a minute,” Louis answered her grimly. Now wasn’t the time. He looked over the monitors slowly now, clouded blue eyes flicking between the camera feeds and the infrared but that would also need to be cross referenced later by more eyes than his. Maybe it was pointless. “Find Lefou.” That command went to all six operatives in observation. It would be useful to know if the man would show as an officer or in civilian, if he obliged the anonymous flyer at all.
With a last glance at the east windows, Louis dropped into a rolling chair between Robin and Draghici, setting the empty tea cup beside the keyboard. The cushion was still faintly warmed from the last time he had sat before apprehension drove him to pace and drink. “Send what’s uncertain, add the definite ones to the list and update.” Files raced from Robin’s monitor to his, names and partial information on those that claimed to Koiichi, unobtrusive and geeky, that they’re Enhanced, there to support themselves, their fellows and to resist the dehumanization by the government. The definite ones had gone so far as to show the operative; such was Koiichi’s gift of persuasion. Now Louis had to decide who was a liar, and who was worth rounding up with the rest when the fit hit the shan.
AllHailDago
Rough Tough Creampuff
Kurt returned home from work at about midnight. Stomping up the steps to his small home he recently finished paying for remodels on. As unhappy as he was to do it, his wife's life insurance money bought him this home when he moved to London. The work on the house was paid for by a particularly wealthy man who had hired Kurt a couple of months back. He wanted a grand playhouse for his daughter that would also wow the neighbors for miles. So Kurt obliged him with a small castle design, with spires, and turrets, and a plastic portcullis. He even designed it to be safely childproofed, and suggested a glow in the dark, water proof paint to make it truly fairy tale-esque for his daughter. The man was quite pleased with his work, and invited him to his daughter's seventh birthday party, where they presented the finished work to her as her gift.
Thinking back on the whole ordeal made Kurt smile. He had been thinking up such ideas for a project for his daughter, so it wasn't exactly difficult to produce those ideas. He was just pleased some little girl would have pleasant childhood memories of the castle he thought up. Pulling his key from his pocket with two fingers, so the rounded metal stubs wouldn't catch in his jeans, then he frowned and unlocked his door. He walked into his home like some sort of penguin-Oompa Loompa cross. This was the walk that people easily remembered and immediately associated with Kurt. He removed his Nikes and set them by the door, along with the leather jacket he wore that day with spikes in the shoulders. He dropped his backpack full of tools, and blue prints, and pencils onto the tie-dye love seat. Then he waddled into the kitchen.
He opened a drawer under the fridge and a wooden step stool unfolded outwards. He clumped up it, the fine aspen wood a comforting, flexible sensation under his wide feet. He reached over the top of the fridge and got a nicely sized bottle of vodka from the cabinet. the clinking of the metal stubs in his fingertips against the bottle rang through the air for a few moments. He descended and, after putting the fold out step stool away, ttrudged back to his living room. He slumped into his turquoise and lime green plaid rocking chair, opening the bottle with a deft twist of his fingers and another ringing reverberation. He picked up the letter on his living room table and took a swig, enjoying the mild burn as it slid down his throat. He wondered how this man learned of Kurt's Enhancement as he drank. He hadn't ever used his powers in public before, at least not consciously, or at least Kurt thought so. Kurt looked around his home a bit suspiciously, always a lover of spy movies he was not against the thought someone might have bugged his place. He would have to take a bit more care of what he did now. So, was this man driven to assist the Enhanced like it seems? Kurt hoped so, the world needed what beacons of light it could find.
A meeting at 10 Am the next morning. Probably with more Enhanced than Kurt, as he had learned government and public officials hardly ever dealt with one concern alone when they could many at once. so he would be putting his face in the semi-public to public eye and probably confirming his Enhancement by going. Worth it or not? Yes, if his daughter was alive he would be teaching her the lesson his father taught him so long ago. He would go to the meeting and accept life as it was with his values, ethics, and personal code intact. He blearily eyed the half empty vodka bottle with his monocled eye, wondering how it got that empty so fast. A single strand of bright orange and a bronze cog sat at the bottom of the clear liquid. He wondered how, even in his deep thought, he failed to notice getting a ornamented beard hair in the bottle. The sound probably should have been loud enough to notice. He shrugged, placed the lid back on the bottle, set it down on the table, and trudged off to his bedroom.
He took off his monocle, and took out the lemur bone piercing over his other eye. He set them on his medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Then he began taking out the cogs and pistons from his beard and set them on the right side of the sink. He brushed out his beard and let down his hair, a sky blue and majestic purple curtain of dreadlocks framing his face. He cleaned his hair, took all the shed purple, blue, and orange hair from the counter and put it in the trash. Hen after brushing his teeth and undressing he laid down to go to sleep. While he laid there he listened to the patter or rain on his roof. He hoped the rally didn't get rained on tomorrow, it wouldn't exactly be the most pleasant of circumstance, although there were plenty of other ways a rally could have a unpleasant run from. He tossed a glance at his alarm clock, which read 1 AM, and set it for 8 AM before drifting off to sleep.
He drifted directly into his worst recurring nightmare. He stood at the edge of his lawn in Seattle, smiling as his daughter Alia played with dolls on the grass. Marie Sue, his wife, sat smiling across from Alia, she lipped something and Alia nodded. They both stood up at the same time and ran inside laughing in slow motion. But for some reason Kurt was immobilized where he stood, unable to run to be with them inside. There was a crashing sound of a table with something glass on it breaking inside the house. A shadow with no definite form ran from the home and into the night. And suddenly all the windows of the home blazed with horrid, flickering red light. Shadows cast across the lawn like gaunt skeletons hanging from a noose. Then the most heart wrenching, soul tearing sound filled Kurt's ears. The sound of real terror and pain experienced for the first time by a child. It tapered off to a scratchy gurgle and then fell silent. The smell of acrid smoke and burning eat reached Kurt's nose. He wept as he watched his home burn to the ground, unable to even move towards it. He woke with fresh tears in his eyes and cast a glance at his end table. The time was only five minutes short of his alarm. He turned it off and allowed a fleeting look at the soot coated sheep stuffy on the corner of his table. Then he grabbed a fresh pair of red jeans, boxers, green socks, and a yellow flannel and headed into the bathroom.
He showered leisurely, taking great care of his hair throughout, using the dozen or so different shampoos he has. Afterwards he took the time to dress, put his hair back up and into order, replace his bone piercing and monocle, and readorn his beard far more precisely then one might assume he could with his stubby fingers. He thought of maybe using buttons and sewing needles in his beard next, but decided to think that over further later. He nodded and went to the kitchen for breakfast, collecting and putting away the vodka bottle as he went. He got Cinnamon Toast crunch down from the top of the fridge and filled a bowl with it. He put it away, poured chocolate milk into the cereal, and began eating the mix kids made fun of in school. He looked out the window above the sink to see the sky decided rain wasn't needed at the moment. Although the cloudy gray sky looked like it might decide to go one way or the other with today. He finished eating and rinsed his bowl out while looking across the city. He put the bowl into the dishwasher, the constant clinking of his finger stubs making ringing sounds in his ears every time he touched metal or glass. Maybe, just maybe, the implanted metal tips were a bad idea. Whatever the answer to that thought, Kurt slipped on his green and orange Nikes, and black leather jacket with the spikes on the shoulders. Making sure his keys were in his pocket, he locked his door and headed out to his car.
He unlocked his convertible, pausing to glance happily at the Big Ben painted over the whole of his roof, and clambered inside. With all the various world land marks painted on every surface of his care it was difficult to discern what the original color was. Even Kurt was unable to cast back into memory and remember its actual color. The drive shouldn't take too long, especially as it wasn't raining and the rally was rather close to Kurt's home. Something he thought might have to do with more then mere chance. Twenty minutes later Kurt was parked outside of the rally's main tent. He got out of his car and locked it, activating the alarm as he did. He glanced around the crowded area with an odd sensation of being watched. Something odd was surely going on here and instinct wasn't something Kurt ignored. He pursed his lips, pushing them to the side and puffing out his right cheek while he looked around. He couldn't exactly put a name to the feeling, or pick particular pursuer out of the crowd.
But he supposed that was how professionals worked, he spent one last glance looking up at a particularly interesting building and then ducked into the tent he was supposed to meet in. There were a few people there already. A man who looked like one of the guys his father used to house back in Seattle, a recovering drug addict not quite recovered by the looks of it. Aside from him and the man in the suit who called them here, Kurt was the only male in the tent. And not that he was bothered by it, but it seemed he was also the shortest, even compared to all the young women in here. He began chewing on a piece of his beard while looking at the girl in the glasses, the one with the Afro, and a young one he was sure he recognized from somewhere. An odd bunch, but Kurt was sure they weren't quite used to seeing someone like him.
Thinking back on the whole ordeal made Kurt smile. He had been thinking up such ideas for a project for his daughter, so it wasn't exactly difficult to produce those ideas. He was just pleased some little girl would have pleasant childhood memories of the castle he thought up. Pulling his key from his pocket with two fingers, so the rounded metal stubs wouldn't catch in his jeans, then he frowned and unlocked his door. He walked into his home like some sort of penguin-Oompa Loompa cross. This was the walk that people easily remembered and immediately associated with Kurt. He removed his Nikes and set them by the door, along with the leather jacket he wore that day with spikes in the shoulders. He dropped his backpack full of tools, and blue prints, and pencils onto the tie-dye love seat. Then he waddled into the kitchen.
He opened a drawer under the fridge and a wooden step stool unfolded outwards. He clumped up it, the fine aspen wood a comforting, flexible sensation under his wide feet. He reached over the top of the fridge and got a nicely sized bottle of vodka from the cabinet. the clinking of the metal stubs in his fingertips against the bottle rang through the air for a few moments. He descended and, after putting the fold out step stool away, ttrudged back to his living room. He slumped into his turquoise and lime green plaid rocking chair, opening the bottle with a deft twist of his fingers and another ringing reverberation. He picked up the letter on his living room table and took a swig, enjoying the mild burn as it slid down his throat. He wondered how this man learned of Kurt's Enhancement as he drank. He hadn't ever used his powers in public before, at least not consciously, or at least Kurt thought so. Kurt looked around his home a bit suspiciously, always a lover of spy movies he was not against the thought someone might have bugged his place. He would have to take a bit more care of what he did now. So, was this man driven to assist the Enhanced like it seems? Kurt hoped so, the world needed what beacons of light it could find.
A meeting at 10 Am the next morning. Probably with more Enhanced than Kurt, as he had learned government and public officials hardly ever dealt with one concern alone when they could many at once. so he would be putting his face in the semi-public to public eye and probably confirming his Enhancement by going. Worth it or not? Yes, if his daughter was alive he would be teaching her the lesson his father taught him so long ago. He would go to the meeting and accept life as it was with his values, ethics, and personal code intact. He blearily eyed the half empty vodka bottle with his monocled eye, wondering how it got that empty so fast. A single strand of bright orange and a bronze cog sat at the bottom of the clear liquid. He wondered how, even in his deep thought, he failed to notice getting a ornamented beard hair in the bottle. The sound probably should have been loud enough to notice. He shrugged, placed the lid back on the bottle, set it down on the table, and trudged off to his bedroom.
He took off his monocle, and took out the lemur bone piercing over his other eye. He set them on his medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Then he began taking out the cogs and pistons from his beard and set them on the right side of the sink. He brushed out his beard and let down his hair, a sky blue and majestic purple curtain of dreadlocks framing his face. He cleaned his hair, took all the shed purple, blue, and orange hair from the counter and put it in the trash. Hen after brushing his teeth and undressing he laid down to go to sleep. While he laid there he listened to the patter or rain on his roof. He hoped the rally didn't get rained on tomorrow, it wouldn't exactly be the most pleasant of circumstance, although there were plenty of other ways a rally could have a unpleasant run from. He tossed a glance at his alarm clock, which read 1 AM, and set it for 8 AM before drifting off to sleep.
He drifted directly into his worst recurring nightmare. He stood at the edge of his lawn in Seattle, smiling as his daughter Alia played with dolls on the grass. Marie Sue, his wife, sat smiling across from Alia, she lipped something and Alia nodded. They both stood up at the same time and ran inside laughing in slow motion. But for some reason Kurt was immobilized where he stood, unable to run to be with them inside. There was a crashing sound of a table with something glass on it breaking inside the house. A shadow with no definite form ran from the home and into the night. And suddenly all the windows of the home blazed with horrid, flickering red light. Shadows cast across the lawn like gaunt skeletons hanging from a noose. Then the most heart wrenching, soul tearing sound filled Kurt's ears. The sound of real terror and pain experienced for the first time by a child. It tapered off to a scratchy gurgle and then fell silent. The smell of acrid smoke and burning eat reached Kurt's nose. He wept as he watched his home burn to the ground, unable to even move towards it. He woke with fresh tears in his eyes and cast a glance at his end table. The time was only five minutes short of his alarm. He turned it off and allowed a fleeting look at the soot coated sheep stuffy on the corner of his table. Then he grabbed a fresh pair of red jeans, boxers, green socks, and a yellow flannel and headed into the bathroom.
He showered leisurely, taking great care of his hair throughout, using the dozen or so different shampoos he has. Afterwards he took the time to dress, put his hair back up and into order, replace his bone piercing and monocle, and readorn his beard far more precisely then one might assume he could with his stubby fingers. He thought of maybe using buttons and sewing needles in his beard next, but decided to think that over further later. He nodded and went to the kitchen for breakfast, collecting and putting away the vodka bottle as he went. He got Cinnamon Toast crunch down from the top of the fridge and filled a bowl with it. He put it away, poured chocolate milk into the cereal, and began eating the mix kids made fun of in school. He looked out the window above the sink to see the sky decided rain wasn't needed at the moment. Although the cloudy gray sky looked like it might decide to go one way or the other with today. He finished eating and rinsed his bowl out while looking across the city. He put the bowl into the dishwasher, the constant clinking of his finger stubs making ringing sounds in his ears every time he touched metal or glass. Maybe, just maybe, the implanted metal tips were a bad idea. Whatever the answer to that thought, Kurt slipped on his green and orange Nikes, and black leather jacket with the spikes on the shoulders. Making sure his keys were in his pocket, he locked his door and headed out to his car.
He unlocked his convertible, pausing to glance happily at the Big Ben painted over the whole of his roof, and clambered inside. With all the various world land marks painted on every surface of his care it was difficult to discern what the original color was. Even Kurt was unable to cast back into memory and remember its actual color. The drive shouldn't take too long, especially as it wasn't raining and the rally was rather close to Kurt's home. Something he thought might have to do with more then mere chance. Twenty minutes later Kurt was parked outside of the rally's main tent. He got out of his car and locked it, activating the alarm as he did. He glanced around the crowded area with an odd sensation of being watched. Something odd was surely going on here and instinct wasn't something Kurt ignored. He pursed his lips, pushing them to the side and puffing out his right cheek while he looked around. He couldn't exactly put a name to the feeling, or pick particular pursuer out of the crowd.
But he supposed that was how professionals worked, he spent one last glance looking up at a particularly interesting building and then ducked into the tent he was supposed to meet in. There were a few people there already. A man who looked like one of the guys his father used to house back in Seattle, a recovering drug addict not quite recovered by the looks of it. Aside from him and the man in the suit who called them here, Kurt was the only male in the tent. And not that he was bothered by it, but it seemed he was also the shortest, even compared to all the young women in here. He began chewing on a piece of his beard while looking at the girl in the glasses, the one with the Afro, and a young one he was sure he recognized from somewhere. An odd bunch, but Kurt was sure they weren't quite used to seeing someone like him.
Chaotic
Retired Staff
His reflection looked so very different than it had just a few short months earlier. Where once had stood a young man trying all too hard to proclaim his disdain for societal norms with his shaggy, unkempt hair and thick rimmed glasses now stood a rather professional looking adult. Once uncared for hair had been shorn down into a rather precisely kept professional cut, and corrective surgery had long since done away with his need for reading glasses. It was odd – a few months prior he would have considered these things marks of vanity, but now he recognized them as something different. The professionalism of his person was quite simply his armor in the petty societal battles that went on all around him.
When finally he was certain that not so much as a hair was out of place on his person, Eilum summoned a cab before climbing in and requesting that he be taken to the rally location. Something about this situation and the note didn’t sit quite right with him. “I know who and what you are,” claimed the note, but the wording was vague. Usually such veiled threats were saved for wealthy and influential men such as his father and not petty leeches of his caliber. The note had quite clearly been left for him, however, and suggested that the person leaving it believed him to be one of the infamous enhanced persons.
The expressionless look on his face gave away none of his musings as he sat silently in the car, but his mind was desperately working to find the missing pieces in this situation. There was no reason for him to have the note. In fact, he was almost perfectly normal. While he would admit that there had been a distinct change in his personality a few months prior, there was nothing to suggest that it had anything to do with the racket caused by this business with the enhanced. He had quite simply had a breakthrough in therapy. It was a story no one could or would question … so why had the note found its way to him?
This question had a simple, logical explanation that had occurred to him. It was for this reason and only this reason that he was even gracing this meeting with his presence in the first place. The most sensible conclusion was that the only way someone could have pegged him as an enhanced was if they had something to do with the mystery of how and why the enhanced had begun to appear. If there was even a chance that this was the case, then the meeting was most certainly in his best interest to attend.
He wanted to find the person or persons responsible for this mess, and he wanted to join them. The tragedy of his girlfriend’s suicide and the way in which the world had just moved on afterwards had made him aware of the dull monotony of life. It was something that happened so as to be forgotten … well, unless you did something so great as to bring the world to its knees for a brief and shining second first. If you were so fortunate, then you would be immortalized. Months back before he had changed, he had decided that this was what he wanted. Now, even as different as he was, he knew that he would still have it. All that had really been altered was that he had been given a greater chance at being able to grasp his immortality when the time came …
Eilum paid the cabby with a curt and polite exchange of pleasantries before making his way to the designated place. There were already people here, but a quick glance at his watch assured him that he wasn’t late. Glancing around at the room again, an expression of shock and then curiosity passed over his face as his eyes fell on the media darling, Garrick Rake. Crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to pensively watch the man, he walked over to take a seat on an unoccupied equipment case. If the uncontested champion of the superhumans was involved, then this was most certainly bound to be good.
When finally he was certain that not so much as a hair was out of place on his person, Eilum summoned a cab before climbing in and requesting that he be taken to the rally location. Something about this situation and the note didn’t sit quite right with him. “I know who and what you are,” claimed the note, but the wording was vague. Usually such veiled threats were saved for wealthy and influential men such as his father and not petty leeches of his caliber. The note had quite clearly been left for him, however, and suggested that the person leaving it believed him to be one of the infamous enhanced persons.
The expressionless look on his face gave away none of his musings as he sat silently in the car, but his mind was desperately working to find the missing pieces in this situation. There was no reason for him to have the note. In fact, he was almost perfectly normal. While he would admit that there had been a distinct change in his personality a few months prior, there was nothing to suggest that it had anything to do with the racket caused by this business with the enhanced. He had quite simply had a breakthrough in therapy. It was a story no one could or would question … so why had the note found its way to him?
This question had a simple, logical explanation that had occurred to him. It was for this reason and only this reason that he was even gracing this meeting with his presence in the first place. The most sensible conclusion was that the only way someone could have pegged him as an enhanced was if they had something to do with the mystery of how and why the enhanced had begun to appear. If there was even a chance that this was the case, then the meeting was most certainly in his best interest to attend.
He wanted to find the person or persons responsible for this mess, and he wanted to join them. The tragedy of his girlfriend’s suicide and the way in which the world had just moved on afterwards had made him aware of the dull monotony of life. It was something that happened so as to be forgotten … well, unless you did something so great as to bring the world to its knees for a brief and shining second first. If you were so fortunate, then you would be immortalized. Months back before he had changed, he had decided that this was what he wanted. Now, even as different as he was, he knew that he would still have it. All that had really been altered was that he had been given a greater chance at being able to grasp his immortality when the time came …
Eilum paid the cabby with a curt and polite exchange of pleasantries before making his way to the designated place. There were already people here, but a quick glance at his watch assured him that he wasn’t late. Glancing around at the room again, an expression of shock and then curiosity passed over his face as his eyes fell on the media darling, Garrick Rake. Crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to pensively watch the man, he walked over to take a seat on an unoccupied equipment case. If the uncontested champion of the superhumans was involved, then this was most certainly bound to be good.
Burberry Preserves
The Last Straw
Mark yawned loudly as he sat through his classes, flicking paper clips that were bent in shapes that would attract aliens out the window as he fiddled with his bright red sleeveless jacket that burned with the blood of angry men. The teacher rolled his eyes at him, already used to his goofy antics. He had been attempting to summon aliens from the beginning of the month, and all attempts are currently unsuccessful. BUT. He can, NO, he will communicate with the beings beyond the furthest boundary of the solar system! If he bent enough paperclips and arranged them in a pattern on the school ground, then they would DEFINITELY come. That is, IF ONLY THE DARN JANITOR WOULD STOP CLEANING UP HIS PAPER CLIPS! BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO, HE HAS TO DO HIS STUPID JOB ALL THE TIME, AND PICK UP HIS RITUAL CLIPS! He slammed his fist on the desk in anger,
Ah, everyone's staring at him. Mark returned his facial expression to its half-lidded eyes akin to that of a dead fish, and returned to staring out the window neutrally. Tch. Damn monotonous scarecrows. In this class, there was never anything interesting happening. It was the same repetitive schedule, faces, talking, and lectures. He hoped that there would be some sort of mysterious transfer student, or a new teacher, even. It was different outside of school. The outside had recently became SO much interesting.
He blinked slowly as the bell rang, and instantly shot out of his seat, eager to escape the suffocating air of the cramped classroom. Mark pushed past the students in his way roughly, and protests came from the ordinary humans who didn't move out of the way fast enough. He ignored the scarecrows. As he ran down the schoolyard, he paused for a bit before pulling out a handful of specially bent paperclips and scattering them around the ground carefully. The janitor glared at Mark angrily, and he cheekily flipped the bird at the misfortunate man before jogging out the school yard.
Pretending to be a phantom thief running from the police, Mark dove around the corner, down the street, across the sidewalk, underneath the benches, up the park slide, down the park slide, miss the traffic light, avoid the car, through the bushes, over the fence, and into the cul de sac. Aaaaah, the route home that he always took whenever there was cumulus clouds in the sky while the wind blew a light breeze into his face. The wind blew a newspaper in his face, and Mark ripped it off his face and threw it behind him, glaring angrily as he stomped across the asphalt. So much for an average day.
He tromped up the cobblestone path and slammed the front door open to the horrible abode that was called home; not that it really was a proper home. Mark was hardly welcome in there, after all. After removing his shoes off at the entrance and slipping on a pair of slippers, Mark cupped his hands to his mouth to yell that he was home. But just as quickly, his hands lowered back to his sides. He quietly made his way up to his room, shutting the door behind him. His siblings were probably at piano lessons right now. Hah, he passed his CM lessons way before them. That was one thing he could lord over them, at least. Not that he even wanted to talk to them.
Sighing heavily, Mark sat down in his comfy office chair, spinning around a couple of times before stopping in front of his desk. He drank out of the black water bottle on it, and flicked his dyed bangs out of his face. Wiping his mouth, he began needle felting a new friend for himself. It would be the last sheep he needed to make in order to complete the family of sheep he was making. Unlike the rest of the white felt sheep, this one was black though. He had made a mistake with the felt before hand, and now this sheep was different from the rest of them. Sigh. Mark had been at the hobby of needling felt for two weeks now. After this last sheep, he'd go find something else to do.
Mark finished needling the sheep, and placed it in the middle of the family of sheep on his snow white shelves. He leaned back into his chair, and finally looked down at the mysterious flyer on his desk.
Ooooh, how mysterious. Who was the sender, oh, who, who, who? It was quite interesting, and he was sure that it wasn't a prank. A rally wasn't something to prank about, after all. The sender even knew that he was.... GASP, ENHANCED! Ever since he got his powers, he had been waiting, just WAITING for something like this to happen! Or well, he was actually waiting for the Armageddon to dawn and for time travelers from the future coming to save the world from its present, but IT WAS BASICALLY THE SAME.
After washing up properly, Mark slid into bed cheerfully, smiling happily at the thought of the rally tomorrow. He would bring some water, some snacks, a taser, some bent paperclips, and some knitting needles + yarn! He was contemplating picking up the hobby of knitting YARN, instead of felt! 10 AM! 10 AM! Superpowers, rally, chaos, fun, fun, fun! It would be so much fun!
(And maybe he would make a friend too. It'd better be an alien though.)
Mark's eyes snapped open at 5 AM. Oh, too early. He went back to sleep, curling up against his pillow sleepily.
Mark's eyes snapped open at 6:30 AM. Oh, just right! He got out of bed, and did the stuff that you do every morning that is too boring to go into detail. He packed everything he wanted to bring in a black backpack with dark grey diamonds on the front pocket, and pulled his bright red sleeveless jacket over his dark grey shirt. Top it off with black pants and a black bandanna around the neck, and you're done. Yay. Oh wait, can't forget to style the hair. HAH, FOOLED YAH. THIS HAIR IS AU NATURAL. THE BEAUTY OF FISH OIL PILLS. BRUSH AND GO. DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE HAIR OF THE NUMBER 1 MOST BEAUTIFUL GUY IN SCHOOL.
Running downstairs, Mark grabbed breakfast and ran out the door. His mom ignored him, as usual, and he didn't see his mom's husband anywhere. Good riddance. No siblings anywhere in sight. Excellent. Leaving time is 8:00 AM. Not cloudy, bright and sunny. It was alright to relax. The aliens were not out today, so he didn't need to attract their attention. The aliens only came when there were clouds out, so they could hide behind the clouds and observe the Earth! It wasn't like in the past, when flying saucers (so outdated) would fly around everywhere with no care for stealth.
He ran down the street, and slowed to a walking cadence. The bright red of his sleeveless jacket caught their attention, and they moved out of his way. Those who didn't were shoved aside, and protests rose from behind him. Once again, ignored. After quite a bit of walking, Mark approached a building, and stood outside a tent.
The options to enter are flamboyantly, normally, or dramatic. Dramatic and flamboyant? Excellent.
Mark cartwheeled and backflipped into the tent, and struck a dramatic pose, with a completely monotone expression. "I am Mark Wei. My hobbies are knitting and doing homework, and my dream for the future is to make contact with a Zetan Gray." He then proceeded to note the appearances of each person there. Male bearded scarecrow, glasses female scarecrow, afro scarecrow, male spiky scarecrow, fancy male scarecrow, and male scarecrow in a suit. Suit scarecrow was Garrick... Rale? Wasn't he some important man who wanted rights for Enhanced and stuff? Mark thought to himself quietly as he stood in the middle of the tent.
Ah, everyone's staring at him. Mark returned his facial expression to its half-lidded eyes akin to that of a dead fish, and returned to staring out the window neutrally. Tch. Damn monotonous scarecrows. In this class, there was never anything interesting happening. It was the same repetitive schedule, faces, talking, and lectures. He hoped that there would be some sort of mysterious transfer student, or a new teacher, even. It was different outside of school. The outside had recently became SO much interesting.
He blinked slowly as the bell rang, and instantly shot out of his seat, eager to escape the suffocating air of the cramped classroom. Mark pushed past the students in his way roughly, and protests came from the ordinary humans who didn't move out of the way fast enough. He ignored the scarecrows. As he ran down the schoolyard, he paused for a bit before pulling out a handful of specially bent paperclips and scattering them around the ground carefully. The janitor glared at Mark angrily, and he cheekily flipped the bird at the misfortunate man before jogging out the school yard.
Pretending to be a phantom thief running from the police, Mark dove around the corner, down the street, across the sidewalk, underneath the benches, up the park slide, down the park slide, miss the traffic light, avoid the car, through the bushes, over the fence, and into the cul de sac. Aaaaah, the route home that he always took whenever there was cumulus clouds in the sky while the wind blew a light breeze into his face. The wind blew a newspaper in his face, and Mark ripped it off his face and threw it behind him, glaring angrily as he stomped across the asphalt. So much for an average day.
He tromped up the cobblestone path and slammed the front door open to the horrible abode that was called home; not that it really was a proper home. Mark was hardly welcome in there, after all. After removing his shoes off at the entrance and slipping on a pair of slippers, Mark cupped his hands to his mouth to yell that he was home. But just as quickly, his hands lowered back to his sides. He quietly made his way up to his room, shutting the door behind him. His siblings were probably at piano lessons right now. Hah, he passed his CM lessons way before them. That was one thing he could lord over them, at least. Not that he even wanted to talk to them.
Sighing heavily, Mark sat down in his comfy office chair, spinning around a couple of times before stopping in front of his desk. He drank out of the black water bottle on it, and flicked his dyed bangs out of his face. Wiping his mouth, he began needle felting a new friend for himself. It would be the last sheep he needed to make in order to complete the family of sheep he was making. Unlike the rest of the white felt sheep, this one was black though. He had made a mistake with the felt before hand, and now this sheep was different from the rest of them. Sigh. Mark had been at the hobby of needling felt for two weeks now. After this last sheep, he'd go find something else to do.
Mark finished needling the sheep, and placed it in the middle of the family of sheep on his snow white shelves. He leaned back into his chair, and finally looked down at the mysterious flyer on his desk.
Ooooh, how mysterious. Who was the sender, oh, who, who, who? It was quite interesting, and he was sure that it wasn't a prank. A rally wasn't something to prank about, after all. The sender even knew that he was.... GASP, ENHANCED! Ever since he got his powers, he had been waiting, just WAITING for something like this to happen! Or well, he was actually waiting for the Armageddon to dawn and for time travelers from the future coming to save the world from its present, but IT WAS BASICALLY THE SAME.
After washing up properly, Mark slid into bed cheerfully, smiling happily at the thought of the rally tomorrow. He would bring some water, some snacks, a taser, some bent paperclips, and some knitting needles + yarn! He was contemplating picking up the hobby of knitting YARN, instead of felt! 10 AM! 10 AM! Superpowers, rally, chaos, fun, fun, fun! It would be so much fun!
(And maybe he would make a friend too. It'd better be an alien though.)
Mark's eyes snapped open at 5 AM. Oh, too early. He went back to sleep, curling up against his pillow sleepily.
Mark's eyes snapped open at 6:30 AM. Oh, just right! He got out of bed, and did the stuff that you do every morning that is too boring to go into detail. He packed everything he wanted to bring in a black backpack with dark grey diamonds on the front pocket, and pulled his bright red sleeveless jacket over his dark grey shirt. Top it off with black pants and a black bandanna around the neck, and you're done. Yay. Oh wait, can't forget to style the hair. HAH, FOOLED YAH. THIS HAIR IS AU NATURAL. THE BEAUTY OF FISH OIL PILLS. BRUSH AND GO. DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE HAIR OF THE NUMBER 1 MOST BEAUTIFUL GUY IN SCHOOL.
Running downstairs, Mark grabbed breakfast and ran out the door. His mom ignored him, as usual, and he didn't see his mom's husband anywhere. Good riddance. No siblings anywhere in sight. Excellent. Leaving time is 8:00 AM. Not cloudy, bright and sunny. It was alright to relax. The aliens were not out today, so he didn't need to attract their attention. The aliens only came when there were clouds out, so they could hide behind the clouds and observe the Earth! It wasn't like in the past, when flying saucers (so outdated) would fly around everywhere with no care for stealth.
He ran down the street, and slowed to a walking cadence. The bright red of his sleeveless jacket caught their attention, and they moved out of his way. Those who didn't were shoved aside, and protests rose from behind him. Once again, ignored. After quite a bit of walking, Mark approached a building, and stood outside a tent.
The options to enter are flamboyantly, normally, or dramatic. Dramatic and flamboyant? Excellent.
Mark cartwheeled and backflipped into the tent, and struck a dramatic pose, with a completely monotone expression. "I am Mark Wei. My hobbies are knitting and doing homework, and my dream for the future is to make contact with a Zetan Gray." He then proceeded to note the appearances of each person there. Male bearded scarecrow, glasses female scarecrow, afro scarecrow, male spiky scarecrow, fancy male scarecrow, and male scarecrow in a suit. Suit scarecrow was Garrick... Rale? Wasn't he some important man who wanted rights for Enhanced and stuff? Mark thought to himself quietly as he stood in the middle of the tent.
Auren
7th Level Procrastinator
Kat slammed her hand down onto the ringing, pulsing alarm clock. It buzzed to a halt and she turned over again. Her covers ruffled around her shoulders, pulling into clumps around her torso. A moment later, the alarm clock screamed again. She swiped her hand behind her. The poor clock flew across her room, the cord un-plugged and sparking. She moaned before sitting up. Her hair was a mess about her face and she slid her hand over her eyes.
She pushed herself off the bed, and hissed when her bare feet touched the cold hardwood floor. A loud groan escaped her lips before she stomped over to the curtain. She pushed it back a bit, letting in the sunlight. Then, Kat shuffled over to her dead clock, picking it up with one hand and turning it over.
”You should really run on batteries,”she muttered before shuffling back towards her night stand. She plugged the clock back in and set it within its clean outlined spot within the dust-covered surface. The screen flashed and then it read 9:55 AM in bright, red letters. Kat rolled her shoulders, narrowing her eyes in thought. Was there something she was supposed to do today?
She shrugged it off, figuring her memory wouldn’t fail her with important dates. She slipped into the kitchenette, making a small bowl of cereal. As she leaned over her counter, her eyes adjusting to the small light that filtered through her window, she noticed the grease stain on her arm. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch. She had fallen asleep immediately after she had arrived home. Well, almost immediately. She did have enough wits about her to change into her pajama pants.
Opening the drawer next to her lower right hip, her hands grabbed the remote that sat there. She pushed the button on the top right, and the television on her right sprang to life. A news lady stood there, mic in hand, as she delivered some news or another about a rally. Kat almost choked on her cereal, coughing and sputtering until she swallowed her spoonful.
”Dammnit brain,”she cursed before dropping her spoon into the cereal. She ran around the counter, using her hand to coordinate the turn. On the floor, next to her door, she picked up her black leather jacket. Digging into her pockets, she pulled out a clumped piece of paper. It was a summons, if any. She didn’t know who sent it, but she needed to find out. Her aunt and Freddy hadn’t known she was Enhanced, and it was an easy enough skill to keep hidden. Plus, Freddy’s shop had never been busier. Just the night before, she was fixing an old Honda until at least three a.m. She didn’t need his shop suffering because of any negative influence her presence might cause.
She shoved her pj pants off and dashed into her closet to grab a pair of jeans. She slipped them on, her shoes, and lastly, her jacket. After tossing her hair, she ran out of her flat. Locking the door behind her, she hopped down the three stories of stairs just to meet her motorcycle. She slipped one leg over and straddled the seat before slipping on her slick, black helmet.
Within seconds, Kat was zooming past cars, the engine of her ride roaring at everyone. While it looked old, the motorcycle moved with ease—and speed. It didn’t take long to reach the rally, and Kat found herself parked a few blocks down the road. The crowd seemed to be quite the sight. All the better for her to slip behind them, get this nonsense over with, and be done with it. She pulled off her helmet and tossed her hair. It always seemed to lay fine, and a little tousle only did it good. If she could be thankful for one thing, it was that her hair never needed much care to look okay on shitty days.
Watching the crowd push against one another and many more people passing, Kat kicked out her stand while she pulled a smoke out of her jacket pocket. With the butt of it in her mouth, she caught a few kids looking at her ride. ”If you touch it, I’ll burn you,”she said, her voice hard and her eyes narrow. The boys looked at one another for a moment before walking off. With that, she pulled out her lighter, and soon she was puffing on her smoke. She’d need it, and, hell, she was already late. She puffed again.
”Bastard better not make me late for work,”she muttered, needing to be back at the shop by eleven. Pulling one last swing of smoke, the embers dancing all the way down to the end, she tossed the cigarette under her boot. She stomped it out before swinging off her bike and blowing out a white cloud.
She put her hand into her pockets, and trudged up to back of the rally, to the location stated. She paused, listening to the murmur of voices that leaked through the flap of the tent. So, she wasn’t the only one. One side of her lips quirked downward before she pulled the flap aside and entered. Looking at the various people of the tent, she was suspicious of the hows and whys. Spotting the man at the desk, she met his gaze evenly. She recognized him from the news, the same news that would be present at the rally.
”Am I to assume you’re the one that slipped this,”she tossed the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and onto his desk, “Under my door?” She crossed her arms, her attention only on the man. She wanted to protect the only people that ever did much for her, and this man could ruin everything at the shop if he ousted her as Enhanced.
She pushed herself off the bed, and hissed when her bare feet touched the cold hardwood floor. A loud groan escaped her lips before she stomped over to the curtain. She pushed it back a bit, letting in the sunlight. Then, Kat shuffled over to her dead clock, picking it up with one hand and turning it over.
”You should really run on batteries,”she muttered before shuffling back towards her night stand. She plugged the clock back in and set it within its clean outlined spot within the dust-covered surface. The screen flashed and then it read 9:55 AM in bright, red letters. Kat rolled her shoulders, narrowing her eyes in thought. Was there something she was supposed to do today?
She shrugged it off, figuring her memory wouldn’t fail her with important dates. She slipped into the kitchenette, making a small bowl of cereal. As she leaned over her counter, her eyes adjusting to the small light that filtered through her window, she noticed the grease stain on her arm. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch. She had fallen asleep immediately after she had arrived home. Well, almost immediately. She did have enough wits about her to change into her pajama pants.
Opening the drawer next to her lower right hip, her hands grabbed the remote that sat there. She pushed the button on the top right, and the television on her right sprang to life. A news lady stood there, mic in hand, as she delivered some news or another about a rally. Kat almost choked on her cereal, coughing and sputtering until she swallowed her spoonful.
”Dammnit brain,”she cursed before dropping her spoon into the cereal. She ran around the counter, using her hand to coordinate the turn. On the floor, next to her door, she picked up her black leather jacket. Digging into her pockets, she pulled out a clumped piece of paper. It was a summons, if any. She didn’t know who sent it, but she needed to find out. Her aunt and Freddy hadn’t known she was Enhanced, and it was an easy enough skill to keep hidden. Plus, Freddy’s shop had never been busier. Just the night before, she was fixing an old Honda until at least three a.m. She didn’t need his shop suffering because of any negative influence her presence might cause.
She shoved her pj pants off and dashed into her closet to grab a pair of jeans. She slipped them on, her shoes, and lastly, her jacket. After tossing her hair, she ran out of her flat. Locking the door behind her, she hopped down the three stories of stairs just to meet her motorcycle. She slipped one leg over and straddled the seat before slipping on her slick, black helmet.
Within seconds, Kat was zooming past cars, the engine of her ride roaring at everyone. While it looked old, the motorcycle moved with ease—and speed. It didn’t take long to reach the rally, and Kat found herself parked a few blocks down the road. The crowd seemed to be quite the sight. All the better for her to slip behind them, get this nonsense over with, and be done with it. She pulled off her helmet and tossed her hair. It always seemed to lay fine, and a little tousle only did it good. If she could be thankful for one thing, it was that her hair never needed much care to look okay on shitty days.
Watching the crowd push against one another and many more people passing, Kat kicked out her stand while she pulled a smoke out of her jacket pocket. With the butt of it in her mouth, she caught a few kids looking at her ride. ”If you touch it, I’ll burn you,”she said, her voice hard and her eyes narrow. The boys looked at one another for a moment before walking off. With that, she pulled out her lighter, and soon she was puffing on her smoke. She’d need it, and, hell, she was already late. She puffed again.
”Bastard better not make me late for work,”she muttered, needing to be back at the shop by eleven. Pulling one last swing of smoke, the embers dancing all the way down to the end, she tossed the cigarette under her boot. She stomped it out before swinging off her bike and blowing out a white cloud.
She put her hand into her pockets, and trudged up to back of the rally, to the location stated. She paused, listening to the murmur of voices that leaked through the flap of the tent. So, she wasn’t the only one. One side of her lips quirked downward before she pulled the flap aside and entered. Looking at the various people of the tent, she was suspicious of the hows and whys. Spotting the man at the desk, she met his gaze evenly. She recognized him from the news, the same news that would be present at the rally.
”Am I to assume you’re the one that slipped this,”she tossed the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and onto his desk, “Under my door?” She crossed her arms, her attention only on the man. She wanted to protect the only people that ever did much for her, and this man could ruin everything at the shop if he ousted her as Enhanced.
Haley
The Muscle.
"Where do Hamsters and Gerbils originate from, and if I go there would I find wild hamsters and gerbils running or burrowing around? Do people look at us or at Americans and think we're weird for wanting to keep them as house pets?" Emilyn quarreled to an obviously disinterested patron who rummageing through the clearance bin of adult videos. She lifted her red-rimmed blues eyes from the inventory paper she had been staring at for the past 10 minutes and met the man's lazily shrugged shoulders as he picked up a few movies and read the back. As if he was interested in the plot.
"Hm..." Emilyn raised an eyebrow and sighed as she leaned back against the counter, completely forgetting about the inventory sheet she was supposed to have filled out an hour ago. She suddenly threw herself against the cold steel door to the employees only office and sighed as she enjoyed the cool feeling of the metal on her skin. In her peripherals she could see the only store patron jump at her sudden movement but she didn't care. "OoooooOOOOHHhhhh.... I want a burritooo." She sang lazily, tapping her finger against the door.
Suddenly the door flew open and Emilyn fell through with a loud squeak of surprise. She hit the floor and looked up the length of her boss who only stared down at her with a look of surprise. "Emilyn? What are you still doing here? You're supposed to be getting off early to go to some rally you called about yesterday right?" He asked, successfully taking the attention away from her falling by changing the subject before she could come up with the idea to be injured at his expense.
Emilyn rolled onto her back and reached up to her head to fix her beanie that had fallen over her eyes. She stared at him for a few seconds, struggling to remember what the hell he was talking about. What rally was this man- oh yeah! She suddenly smiled wide and shot up into a siting position. "I need to get puddin!" She exclaimed before climbing to her feet. Her sudden appearance over the counter made the patron who had finally decided between two different adult movies to just purchase them both, jump once again, and this time he gave a grumble of disapproval at all the frights she kept giving him.
"Whoa man, calm down. They aren't even that great of movies." Emilyn replied with a concerned look across her face, clearly misinterpreting all his mini-heart attacks around her. "Anyways, I will see you later Mr. Boss man." She turned and gave him a small wave as she clocked out and ran around the counter to the front door. "And... I'll probably see you when you come to return those." She stated blandly with a sympathetic look at the man. In response both her boss and the customer shot her disapproving looks. With a final wave Emilyn turned back to the entrance and bolted out and down the street, right into the entrance of her apartment complex. She hummed a little tune as she unlocked the door to her flat and swung the door wide, letting it slam against the wall.
"WHERE'S MAH BREAD PUDDIN'?" She called joyously across the flat and in return got the faintest sound of a snore and little dog fart that could have only came from her pug. She stood in the doorway with her hands in the air waiting for her best friend to come sliding across the wood floor to greet her like other dogs did with their companions. When the sound of snoring continued for about a minute, Emilyn gave up on the idea that her dog would be like other dogs and be excited that she was home and let her hands fall against her thighs.
"Where are you, you little butthole?" She grumbled and stomped across the flat until she reached the couch where Puddin' was in his usual spot, curled up, looking like a little loaf of bread. He was a fat little dog and lazy. He gave a sigh and lifted his eyes to meet hers before closing them and going back to sleep.
"Why you little fart! Get up, we got places to be or something!" She said and grabbed a throw pillow from the other side of the cluttered couch and chunked it at her dog. In response he looked at her, snorted and suddenly stretched, in fact he over stretched, to the point of falling off the couch. In stead of getting up, he just went back to sleep, belly up and snoring even louder.
Emilyn sighed and shook her head as she grabbed two things from the coffee table. One was the the flyer that had been addressed to her and surprisingly, Puddin' also. It was for the rally they were invited to. Apparently it was for Enhanced. The idea of going was exciting and scary at the same time. This would be the first time she would be around other enhanced people but also, she had been fairly good about keeping her abilities to herself. There was only the occasional accident in the beginning but for the most part she was able to pass off what she did to people as their own accidents and what-not. It was Puddin she had to look out for with his abilities. Puddin' didn't give no flips, he would whip his abilities out anywhere, any place. He was a cocky SOB.
The second thing she grabbed from the coffee table was a neatly rolled joint that she had rolled the night before just for today. She sighed and for a minute debated weather or not to do it now and go, or wait for later. She wished in these moments, that she could say she argued with herself for hours and her good girl side put up a good fight to keep her on a clean and successful path but the truth of the matter was the reasonable and straight thinking side of her smoked too much also. Damn that peer pressure, right? Emilyn chuckled to herself and slipped the piece between her thin lips and lit it, getting lost in her vice. She looked down at Puddin' as she exhaled the cannabis smoke leaned against the couch.
"We're going to leave in just a moment, you better be ready. I plan on being early." She said and took another drag.
An hour and a half and two chex mix bags later, Emilyn stood up from the couch and slowly looked down at the flyer. "Oh, snap..." She blurted and laughed for no apparent reason as she looked down at Puddin' who was busy licking his own balls. "We need to go now, ew stop man, not cool, I am right here, have some decency." She said, tieing in a scolding with that sentence that Puddin' undoubtedly ignored and finished when he was damn well ready, lucky for Emilyn it was right then.
"Alright good, lets go." She sighed and walked out the front door, her little fat pug, prancing behind her. About fifteen minutes later, Emilyn and Puddin' were at the entrance to the tent. It normally would have been a ten minute walk from her flat to this part of town but walking through the huge crowd of not only curious people waiting to watch, but also protesters against the enhanced, took an extra five minutes. She walked through the flap of the tent and didn't recognize not a damn person. She noticed a few people looking towards a man smoking in the corner but she had no idea who the dude was. She shrugged and politely walked around the flamboyant guy who was posing at the entrance and found a random spot, close to but not all up in, the smallish group that was waiting around.
"Hm..." Emilyn raised an eyebrow and sighed as she leaned back against the counter, completely forgetting about the inventory sheet she was supposed to have filled out an hour ago. She suddenly threw herself against the cold steel door to the employees only office and sighed as she enjoyed the cool feeling of the metal on her skin. In her peripherals she could see the only store patron jump at her sudden movement but she didn't care. "OoooooOOOOHHhhhh.... I want a burritooo." She sang lazily, tapping her finger against the door.
Suddenly the door flew open and Emilyn fell through with a loud squeak of surprise. She hit the floor and looked up the length of her boss who only stared down at her with a look of surprise. "Emilyn? What are you still doing here? You're supposed to be getting off early to go to some rally you called about yesterday right?" He asked, successfully taking the attention away from her falling by changing the subject before she could come up with the idea to be injured at his expense.
Emilyn rolled onto her back and reached up to her head to fix her beanie that had fallen over her eyes. She stared at him for a few seconds, struggling to remember what the hell he was talking about. What rally was this man- oh yeah! She suddenly smiled wide and shot up into a siting position. "I need to get puddin!" She exclaimed before climbing to her feet. Her sudden appearance over the counter made the patron who had finally decided between two different adult movies to just purchase them both, jump once again, and this time he gave a grumble of disapproval at all the frights she kept giving him.
"Whoa man, calm down. They aren't even that great of movies." Emilyn replied with a concerned look across her face, clearly misinterpreting all his mini-heart attacks around her. "Anyways, I will see you later Mr. Boss man." She turned and gave him a small wave as she clocked out and ran around the counter to the front door. "And... I'll probably see you when you come to return those." She stated blandly with a sympathetic look at the man. In response both her boss and the customer shot her disapproving looks. With a final wave Emilyn turned back to the entrance and bolted out and down the street, right into the entrance of her apartment complex. She hummed a little tune as she unlocked the door to her flat and swung the door wide, letting it slam against the wall.
"WHERE'S MAH BREAD PUDDIN'?" She called joyously across the flat and in return got the faintest sound of a snore and little dog fart that could have only came from her pug. She stood in the doorway with her hands in the air waiting for her best friend to come sliding across the wood floor to greet her like other dogs did with their companions. When the sound of snoring continued for about a minute, Emilyn gave up on the idea that her dog would be like other dogs and be excited that she was home and let her hands fall against her thighs.
"Where are you, you little butthole?" She grumbled and stomped across the flat until she reached the couch where Puddin' was in his usual spot, curled up, looking like a little loaf of bread. He was a fat little dog and lazy. He gave a sigh and lifted his eyes to meet hers before closing them and going back to sleep.
"Why you little fart! Get up, we got places to be or something!" She said and grabbed a throw pillow from the other side of the cluttered couch and chunked it at her dog. In response he looked at her, snorted and suddenly stretched, in fact he over stretched, to the point of falling off the couch. In stead of getting up, he just went back to sleep, belly up and snoring even louder.
Emilyn sighed and shook her head as she grabbed two things from the coffee table. One was the the flyer that had been addressed to her and surprisingly, Puddin' also. It was for the rally they were invited to. Apparently it was for Enhanced. The idea of going was exciting and scary at the same time. This would be the first time she would be around other enhanced people but also, she had been fairly good about keeping her abilities to herself. There was only the occasional accident in the beginning but for the most part she was able to pass off what she did to people as their own accidents and what-not. It was Puddin she had to look out for with his abilities. Puddin' didn't give no flips, he would whip his abilities out anywhere, any place. He was a cocky SOB.
The second thing she grabbed from the coffee table was a neatly rolled joint that she had rolled the night before just for today. She sighed and for a minute debated weather or not to do it now and go, or wait for later. She wished in these moments, that she could say she argued with herself for hours and her good girl side put up a good fight to keep her on a clean and successful path but the truth of the matter was the reasonable and straight thinking side of her smoked too much also. Damn that peer pressure, right? Emilyn chuckled to herself and slipped the piece between her thin lips and lit it, getting lost in her vice. She looked down at Puddin' as she exhaled the cannabis smoke leaned against the couch.
"We're going to leave in just a moment, you better be ready. I plan on being early." She said and took another drag.
An hour and a half and two chex mix bags later, Emilyn stood up from the couch and slowly looked down at the flyer. "Oh, snap..." She blurted and laughed for no apparent reason as she looked down at Puddin' who was busy licking his own balls. "We need to go now, ew stop man, not cool, I am right here, have some decency." She said, tieing in a scolding with that sentence that Puddin' undoubtedly ignored and finished when he was damn well ready, lucky for Emilyn it was right then.
"Alright good, lets go." She sighed and walked out the front door, her little fat pug, prancing behind her. About fifteen minutes later, Emilyn and Puddin' were at the entrance to the tent. It normally would have been a ten minute walk from her flat to this part of town but walking through the huge crowd of not only curious people waiting to watch, but also protesters against the enhanced, took an extra five minutes. She walked through the flap of the tent and didn't recognize not a damn person. She noticed a few people looking towards a man smoking in the corner but she had no idea who the dude was. She shrugged and politely walked around the flamboyant guy who was posing at the entrance and found a random spot, close to but not all up in, the smallish group that was waiting around.
killerlung
Cosmic Mailman
London, not exactly a sleepy town, whether it's the bustling cars that clog it's archaic streets or else the incessant honking that accompanies them. No the epicenter of the British empire was anything but quiet, likewise the birthplace of punk rock was anything but sleepy, even on the longest of nights. Though in the messy and outright boyish room of Kaleb one would be hard pressed to find any other word to describe the snoring man-child. Sleepy, yup that was Kaleb, though hungover might also work.
Though of course he'd have to be awake to be hung over, and that was all provided he wasn't still drunk from the night before. As the snoring finally reached its epic high note, Kaleb's arm shot out in his sleep punching the collectible Adam West, Batman doll he'd recently purchased on a whim from his work, AKA the comic shop down the street. As the collectable hit the ground it shouted out a catch phrase, "Quickly Robin, to the bat cave!" cried the recorded voice of Adam West, as the doll or rather 'action figure' as Kaleb was so often keen to correct people, found its new resting place atop a pile of dirty socks.
As the doll settled in its new found home, Kaleb lurched, his body coming to life in such a slow and unsettling manner. First his hands hesitantly twitched, then his feet reached outward in slow agonizing stretches, then he stopped as a silence washed over the dark room. A silence that was soon broken by the pained groan of a man that no doubt felt the weight of the night before. He'd pause a moment, his eyes groggy and slow to open, and he'd wipe the sleep away from them before he pulled himself up lazily walked to his adjoining bathroom. There he'd stumble around, swaying this way and that before finally making it to the commode where he'd quickly relieve himself of the drinks he'd so enjoyed the night before. He'd almost fall forward into the porcelain throne a few times, barely catching himself on the wall that lay just behind it. He'd sigh, noticing that his aim was less than spectacular this morning. With a yawn he'd make his way from the bathroom, jumping back onto his bed he'd roll over to see the time, though as he did he'd knock over a few empty bottles of beer and one off comics from his sheets. "oh no...I have work today don't I?" he'd ask himself just a moment before the time dawned on him. "Dammit" he'd mutter as he realized that not only did he have work, but also that he was late. Kaleb would cringe, reaching for his temples and shielding them from what little light could manage to pierce his makeshift fortress of solitude. His mouth was dry, his head felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Well then there was only one thing to do, "Guess I'm gonna Ferris Bueller then" he'd say begrudgingly. He'd sit still after announcing his plan, watching the slow rotations of the ceiling fan as he contemplated the day. There's something I'm forgetting isn't there? he thought to himself a moment before he reached for his phone, which now lay at the foot of his bed. He'd stretch, hoping to grab the phone without actually having to get off his bed. Unfortunately life had a sense of humor, and he'd fall to the ground before he'd start to dial his boss.
"Hello Cockney Comics, how might I help ya?" chimed his boss,
Okay let's see here which excuse?...dead grandma? no, you're an orphan stupid, umm stabbed on a train? No, too heavy....alien abduction is a no, same with Werewolf attack I've used those before. Okay guess I'll have to use the classic he'd think to himself before he finally answered.
"Hey Randal, bad news"
As if on cue Randal would pause, Kaleb could feel the man rolling his eyes over the phone. Before he'd sigh and respond, "What is it this time, boyo?" he'd say as he waited with baited breath to hear just what Kaleb had in store for him.
"I ate some bad haggis last night and now I'm explosive sh*ttin outta my face and pants man. I don't think it's a good idea for me to come into work today y'know?" he'd ask, throwing the ball back into Randal's court.
"No I don't know you blithering Gobshite, who tha f*ck am I asposse tah get ta unload the truck now? y'know we got a shipment of new prints and a signing today"
Kaleb stopped a moment contemplating coming into work if only to read the new issues that'd come in today. Of course the buzzing in his head would quickly make that seem like too much trouble, that and of course the nagging sensation that he was forgetting something once again.
"Listen it's not my fault that your country's sh*tty food made my toilet look like I just birthed a liquified hulk, now unless you've got a need for sh*ts himself man, I'm playing it safe today." Kaleb replied in a begrudging yet still playing the part sort of way.
Of course Randal snapped back almost as fast, "Haggis is Scottish ya fekkin twit, I'm Irish."
Kaleb stopped a moment a bit perplexed, "really? Irish huh? Well if it makes you feel any better I washed it all down with a Guinness."
At this point Randal let out a long sigh, "damned basterd, can't be mad at yah fer downing the black, but if yahr really sick then I guess there's no halpin it. Today of all days too, gonna miss the Godfather himself. So sad..."
Kaleb pumped his fist in the air as he realized Randal had calmed down and was gonna give him his Ferris Bueller Day. He knew the real reason Randal had freaked was that he'd have no one to talk to for the day at the shop. Who was he going to argue with about superhero fights, or read his terribly dirty fan fics to? Kaleb smiled as much as he could muster though he'd suddenly stop as he'd take Randal's bait and glance at his phone to check the date.
Suddenly his heart sunk in his chest, his eyes went wide, and his already churning stomach turned over, making him feel legitimately sick.
Randal cheerily carried on as he noticed Kaleb going silent, "Well I'll just have ta set up Stan Lee's signing on me own. I wonder what I could get em to sign?" he mused in a teasing tone.
Kaleb felt like punching a hole through his wall, but he kept himself from it, "Hey Randy" he'd say in a meek tone.
Randal would stop his teasing for a moment, taking a hint from Kaleb's tone. "Yeah Bats?" he'd ask in as concerned a tone as he could muster.
"Tell Stan I love him, tell him for me..." he'd say in such a defeated tone.
Randal, tried to keep from laughing, but the abruptness of Kaleb's request caught him off guard. He chuckled a bit, "Yah I'll do that bats, now get some rest. Oh and check the telly, those real herahs are gatherin. Y'knaw the ones with tha powers"
Kaleb sighed, "Yeah okay" he muttered in the same defeated tone, as he hung up the phone and slid down, lying down on his bedroom floor before he'd gaze up and notice the Adam West toy he'd bought a week ago was now sitting neatly on a pile of socks. With an odd sort of compulsion he'd reach out and pick up the figure, though as he did he'd notice a crumpled piece of paper under the pile of socks. He'd grab the paper and unfold it to find the flyer that called him to meet at the Enhanced rally. "Oh yeah, that's today too isn't it?" he'd say weakly as he gazed at the flyer for a few minutes before hopping up and heading toward the shower.
2 hours later
Kaleb yawned as he exited the train station and walked the few blocks toward the rally. He stretched his arms a bit, now feeling much better, though still a bit tired. While he hadn't had his patented hangover cure, running completely out of food and what not. He had to settle for what little was left in his fridge, that being two pints of lager, some protein powder, and a scone. Not exactly the breakfast of champions but it did the trick, of course it could've just been the half a painkiller he took alongside his protein shake beer...erm thing. Kaleb sighed, he wished he could say that was the first time he'd ingested the dreaded protein shake beer, or 'buff beer' as he liked to call it. He shivered, trying to forget the taste of chocolate protein on lager. On a stout perhaps it'd be good, he thought to himself, trying to contemplate the possibility of a delicious 'buff beer'.
Suddenly Kaleb reached 10 Downing Street, and with it the massive crowds of people. A good thing he took that pain killer, all this noise would've been hell if he was still dragging his feet with that hangover. Kaleb forced his way through the crowds, thanking his lucky stars that the British healthcare system gave him those rainy day pills. Old football injury or not, those things would've probably cost a fortune in the states. Kaleb popped his back a bit as he made his way through the rather rowdy crowd, mindful not to hyperextend himself and wind up forced to visit one of those nut job budget Chiropractors again. It felt strange being in his twenties and having to be mindful of his back, it was only a slight hernia on the disk, but all the same it proved an interesting distraction for someone like him. Kaleb thought of all the superheroes that had some sort of disability for a moment, Daredevil, Iron Man, Dr. Strange, Professor X, Cyborg, heck even Batgirl got paralyzed!
Kaleb smiled for a moment before it dawned on him that even though those heroes had disabilities to overcome, most of them had powers to go along with it. Kaleb sighed, remembering the flyer, as he walked through the crowds of people that he could only assume had Supers among them. "Damn, here I am in Super city, and I don't even have a power." he'd mutter under his breath. Even Batman has gadgets, and an seemingly never ending supply of money, I've got three roommates and I'll be lucky to get out of this country without a bill to rival Uncle Sam's deficit he'd think to himself before pausing for a moment, "okay maybe not that bad" he'd reassure himself as he'd pass a particularly vocal supporter. He'd smile at the man, who looked like he walked right off a punk rock show sound check. He'd then give the man the most epic high five he could muster, "You tell em" he'd say with a nod before he moved on.
That cheered him up a bit, though still as far as he could tell he was really more or less powerless. Well okay there was that one thing a few weeks ago, but c'mon! That's not a power, more like a skin condition, Kaleb huffed for a moment, that doesn't even count I want a do over! If that's my power I call shenanigans! he thought furiously. Though as he did, he glanced down to notice his finger changing a bit, his eyes went wide as he quickly forced his hands into his pockets, glancing around nervously. After all he had a secret identity to maintain, simple comic book shop clerk by day, and dumb stupid power guy by night.....unless. Wait was he being recruited for a Super hero team up!? A League of Justice!? An Avenging Agency? Xmen?... Kaleb's eyes brightened with newfound hope, and he grinned widely as he appeared before the tent, stopping in his tracks before the entrance. Kaleb took a deep breath, only to release it somewhat awkwardly as a stray chill ran down his spine, and a faint ringing resonated within his ear. "Jitters?" he'd wonder as he'd scratch his head and make his first steps toward the tent's flimsy door, trying to shake the feeling that his hangover was on its way back along the way.
As Kaleb opened the tent's door, he was greeted with the sight of strangers of every sort. "Hola amigos, I don't suppose this tent's got a bar?" he'd ask as he winced at the tent's internal lights. Sensing he may have said the wrong thing Kaleb, quickly shrugged. "Or...possibly an aspirin?" he'd ask, in an attempt to lighten the mood as well as his head. He already recognized Garrick, if the guy was as rich as he was popular, then he really didn't want to piss off his possible Batman-esque benefactor. I could do the Robin gig for a bit, who knows maybe I'd even get my own spin off! He thought with a slight grin, his overactive imagination already in full swing as he pulled a stray cigarette from his coat pocket. Totally taken by surprise that he even had a cigarette, he paused a moment trying to remember where exactly he had picked up the stray memento from the night before. Giving up, he'd shrug and put the cigarette over his ear for safe keeping, having no lighter at the moment to light the damned thing, and no intention of second hand gassing the place. As he went to put his hands back into his pockets he'd notice they were back to normal, no abnormalities or weird mutant rash. He stared at his hands for a second before putting them back down at his side, not quite sure how he felt about it.
Though of course he'd have to be awake to be hung over, and that was all provided he wasn't still drunk from the night before. As the snoring finally reached its epic high note, Kaleb's arm shot out in his sleep punching the collectible Adam West, Batman doll he'd recently purchased on a whim from his work, AKA the comic shop down the street. As the collectable hit the ground it shouted out a catch phrase, "Quickly Robin, to the bat cave!" cried the recorded voice of Adam West, as the doll or rather 'action figure' as Kaleb was so often keen to correct people, found its new resting place atop a pile of dirty socks.
As the doll settled in its new found home, Kaleb lurched, his body coming to life in such a slow and unsettling manner. First his hands hesitantly twitched, then his feet reached outward in slow agonizing stretches, then he stopped as a silence washed over the dark room. A silence that was soon broken by the pained groan of a man that no doubt felt the weight of the night before. He'd pause a moment, his eyes groggy and slow to open, and he'd wipe the sleep away from them before he pulled himself up lazily walked to his adjoining bathroom. There he'd stumble around, swaying this way and that before finally making it to the commode where he'd quickly relieve himself of the drinks he'd so enjoyed the night before. He'd almost fall forward into the porcelain throne a few times, barely catching himself on the wall that lay just behind it. He'd sigh, noticing that his aim was less than spectacular this morning. With a yawn he'd make his way from the bathroom, jumping back onto his bed he'd roll over to see the time, though as he did he'd knock over a few empty bottles of beer and one off comics from his sheets. "oh no...I have work today don't I?" he'd ask himself just a moment before the time dawned on him. "Dammit" he'd mutter as he realized that not only did he have work, but also that he was late. Kaleb would cringe, reaching for his temples and shielding them from what little light could manage to pierce his makeshift fortress of solitude. His mouth was dry, his head felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Well then there was only one thing to do, "Guess I'm gonna Ferris Bueller then" he'd say begrudgingly. He'd sit still after announcing his plan, watching the slow rotations of the ceiling fan as he contemplated the day. There's something I'm forgetting isn't there? he thought to himself a moment before he reached for his phone, which now lay at the foot of his bed. He'd stretch, hoping to grab the phone without actually having to get off his bed. Unfortunately life had a sense of humor, and he'd fall to the ground before he'd start to dial his boss.
"Hello Cockney Comics, how might I help ya?" chimed his boss,
Okay let's see here which excuse?...dead grandma? no, you're an orphan stupid, umm stabbed on a train? No, too heavy....alien abduction is a no, same with Werewolf attack I've used those before. Okay guess I'll have to use the classic he'd think to himself before he finally answered.
"Hey Randal, bad news"
As if on cue Randal would pause, Kaleb could feel the man rolling his eyes over the phone. Before he'd sigh and respond, "What is it this time, boyo?" he'd say as he waited with baited breath to hear just what Kaleb had in store for him.
"I ate some bad haggis last night and now I'm explosive sh*ttin outta my face and pants man. I don't think it's a good idea for me to come into work today y'know?" he'd ask, throwing the ball back into Randal's court.
"No I don't know you blithering Gobshite, who tha f*ck am I asposse tah get ta unload the truck now? y'know we got a shipment of new prints and a signing today"
Kaleb stopped a moment contemplating coming into work if only to read the new issues that'd come in today. Of course the buzzing in his head would quickly make that seem like too much trouble, that and of course the nagging sensation that he was forgetting something once again.
"Listen it's not my fault that your country's sh*tty food made my toilet look like I just birthed a liquified hulk, now unless you've got a need for sh*ts himself man, I'm playing it safe today." Kaleb replied in a begrudging yet still playing the part sort of way.
Of course Randal snapped back almost as fast, "Haggis is Scottish ya fekkin twit, I'm Irish."
Kaleb stopped a moment a bit perplexed, "really? Irish huh? Well if it makes you feel any better I washed it all down with a Guinness."
At this point Randal let out a long sigh, "damned basterd, can't be mad at yah fer downing the black, but if yahr really sick then I guess there's no halpin it. Today of all days too, gonna miss the Godfather himself. So sad..."
Kaleb pumped his fist in the air as he realized Randal had calmed down and was gonna give him his Ferris Bueller Day. He knew the real reason Randal had freaked was that he'd have no one to talk to for the day at the shop. Who was he going to argue with about superhero fights, or read his terribly dirty fan fics to? Kaleb smiled as much as he could muster though he'd suddenly stop as he'd take Randal's bait and glance at his phone to check the date.
Suddenly his heart sunk in his chest, his eyes went wide, and his already churning stomach turned over, making him feel legitimately sick.
Randal cheerily carried on as he noticed Kaleb going silent, "Well I'll just have ta set up Stan Lee's signing on me own. I wonder what I could get em to sign?" he mused in a teasing tone.
Kaleb felt like punching a hole through his wall, but he kept himself from it, "Hey Randy" he'd say in a meek tone.
Randal would stop his teasing for a moment, taking a hint from Kaleb's tone. "Yeah Bats?" he'd ask in as concerned a tone as he could muster.
"Tell Stan I love him, tell him for me..." he'd say in such a defeated tone.
Randal, tried to keep from laughing, but the abruptness of Kaleb's request caught him off guard. He chuckled a bit, "Yah I'll do that bats, now get some rest. Oh and check the telly, those real herahs are gatherin. Y'knaw the ones with tha powers"
Kaleb sighed, "Yeah okay" he muttered in the same defeated tone, as he hung up the phone and slid down, lying down on his bedroom floor before he'd gaze up and notice the Adam West toy he'd bought a week ago was now sitting neatly on a pile of socks. With an odd sort of compulsion he'd reach out and pick up the figure, though as he did he'd notice a crumpled piece of paper under the pile of socks. He'd grab the paper and unfold it to find the flyer that called him to meet at the Enhanced rally. "Oh yeah, that's today too isn't it?" he'd say weakly as he gazed at the flyer for a few minutes before hopping up and heading toward the shower.
2 hours later
Kaleb yawned as he exited the train station and walked the few blocks toward the rally. He stretched his arms a bit, now feeling much better, though still a bit tired. While he hadn't had his patented hangover cure, running completely out of food and what not. He had to settle for what little was left in his fridge, that being two pints of lager, some protein powder, and a scone. Not exactly the breakfast of champions but it did the trick, of course it could've just been the half a painkiller he took alongside his protein shake beer...erm thing. Kaleb sighed, he wished he could say that was the first time he'd ingested the dreaded protein shake beer, or 'buff beer' as he liked to call it. He shivered, trying to forget the taste of chocolate protein on lager. On a stout perhaps it'd be good, he thought to himself, trying to contemplate the possibility of a delicious 'buff beer'.
Suddenly Kaleb reached 10 Downing Street, and with it the massive crowds of people. A good thing he took that pain killer, all this noise would've been hell if he was still dragging his feet with that hangover. Kaleb forced his way through the crowds, thanking his lucky stars that the British healthcare system gave him those rainy day pills. Old football injury or not, those things would've probably cost a fortune in the states. Kaleb popped his back a bit as he made his way through the rather rowdy crowd, mindful not to hyperextend himself and wind up forced to visit one of those nut job budget Chiropractors again. It felt strange being in his twenties and having to be mindful of his back, it was only a slight hernia on the disk, but all the same it proved an interesting distraction for someone like him. Kaleb thought of all the superheroes that had some sort of disability for a moment, Daredevil, Iron Man, Dr. Strange, Professor X, Cyborg, heck even Batgirl got paralyzed!
Kaleb smiled for a moment before it dawned on him that even though those heroes had disabilities to overcome, most of them had powers to go along with it. Kaleb sighed, remembering the flyer, as he walked through the crowds of people that he could only assume had Supers among them. "Damn, here I am in Super city, and I don't even have a power." he'd mutter under his breath. Even Batman has gadgets, and an seemingly never ending supply of money, I've got three roommates and I'll be lucky to get out of this country without a bill to rival Uncle Sam's deficit he'd think to himself before pausing for a moment, "okay maybe not that bad" he'd reassure himself as he'd pass a particularly vocal supporter. He'd smile at the man, who looked like he walked right off a punk rock show sound check. He'd then give the man the most epic high five he could muster, "You tell em" he'd say with a nod before he moved on.
That cheered him up a bit, though still as far as he could tell he was really more or less powerless. Well okay there was that one thing a few weeks ago, but c'mon! That's not a power, more like a skin condition, Kaleb huffed for a moment, that doesn't even count I want a do over! If that's my power I call shenanigans! he thought furiously. Though as he did, he glanced down to notice his finger changing a bit, his eyes went wide as he quickly forced his hands into his pockets, glancing around nervously. After all he had a secret identity to maintain, simple comic book shop clerk by day, and dumb stupid power guy by night.....unless. Wait was he being recruited for a Super hero team up!? A League of Justice!? An Avenging Agency? Xmen?... Kaleb's eyes brightened with newfound hope, and he grinned widely as he appeared before the tent, stopping in his tracks before the entrance. Kaleb took a deep breath, only to release it somewhat awkwardly as a stray chill ran down his spine, and a faint ringing resonated within his ear. "Jitters?" he'd wonder as he'd scratch his head and make his first steps toward the tent's flimsy door, trying to shake the feeling that his hangover was on its way back along the way.
As Kaleb opened the tent's door, he was greeted with the sight of strangers of every sort. "Hola amigos, I don't suppose this tent's got a bar?" he'd ask as he winced at the tent's internal lights. Sensing he may have said the wrong thing Kaleb, quickly shrugged. "Or...possibly an aspirin?" he'd ask, in an attempt to lighten the mood as well as his head. He already recognized Garrick, if the guy was as rich as he was popular, then he really didn't want to piss off his possible Batman-esque benefactor. I could do the Robin gig for a bit, who knows maybe I'd even get my own spin off! He thought with a slight grin, his overactive imagination already in full swing as he pulled a stray cigarette from his coat pocket. Totally taken by surprise that he even had a cigarette, he paused a moment trying to remember where exactly he had picked up the stray memento from the night before. Giving up, he'd shrug and put the cigarette over his ear for safe keeping, having no lighter at the moment to light the damned thing, and no intention of second hand gassing the place. As he went to put his hands back into his pockets he'd notice they were back to normal, no abnormalities or weird mutant rash. He stared at his hands for a second before putting them back down at his side, not quite sure how he felt about it.
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Ozmic
Whiskered Writer
In his tiny bed, in his tiny apartment, Gerry Edwards sleep a restless sleep filled with strange dreamscapes and nightmares. Tossing and turning, he jolted awake with a sharp inhale and looked around. It was light already, a sign that he'd ignored the alarm on his mobile. "Damn you, technology," he grumbled and rolled upright, not even bothering to open his eyes most of the way.
"Caffeine," he moaned warily, pushing himself out've bed and into a ratty pair of slippers before dragging his feet across the small home to put the kettle on. Sitting in an armchair that leaned lazily to the left, he daydreamed for just a split second before the shrill sound of the silver appliance dragged him back into the land of the living. Quickly preparing his concoction, he drank it down and replaced the mug on the dingy counter for future use, then headed toward the door and began rifling through the bin full of mail.
"Bill, junk, past due bill - bloody arseholes - and-- just what're you?" he asked aloud to the sheet of paper in his hand, leaning closer to have a proper look. He chuckled a little and then frowned at the words. "Well, that's not fucking foreboding or anything. What an invitation."
Tossing the flyer back into the bin, he checked the time and cursed, stumbling his way towards the washroom and cursing again at his curiosity. "Gotta' be a trap or somethin'," the dreadlocked male mused as he washed his beard until the lukewarm water of the shower, having to crouch as usual to get any form of water onto his head.
After the quick bit of tidying, he drug on a pair of dark wash jeans and an old t-shirt that read 'Electric Wizard', then made for the door, kicking the bin out of his way so he could unlock it. Slinging his black Shecter over his back and sliding sunglasses over his eyes, he stepped into the day and sighed a breath of toothpaste and the remainder of last night's whiskey. After a quick good morning to the pretty looking (if not a bit peppy) neighbor bird, he set off toward wherever and whoever he was going to meet at this 'rally'.
'Enhanced, huh? Might be an interesting crowd,' he thought as he passed quickly from street to street, the only noise made coming from his boots scuffing the ground or his lighter sparking another cig lit. "Awful habit," he quipped with a grin at a couple of youngsters that'd noticed him and threw up the 'horns'. He brandished the sign back and gave a salute, reminding them of the up and coming show before moving on his way.
Finally, he arrived. It was an odd looking gathering of folk, young and old, but he wasn't too surprised. The amount of shite flooding the news about 'Enhanced' wasn't exactly keeping the rumors on the down-low and the get-together showed it. Whether the people there were all Enhanced or just supporters he couldn't tell. Brushing off the thought, he headed toward a certain tent and meet up with whomever had dropped the lovely flyer into his postbox. Eyeing the other folks gathered, he assumed they'd gotten the same notice. "Looks like I'm a bit late to the party, eh?" he said with a charming grin followed by a yawn.
"Caffeine," he moaned warily, pushing himself out've bed and into a ratty pair of slippers before dragging his feet across the small home to put the kettle on. Sitting in an armchair that leaned lazily to the left, he daydreamed for just a split second before the shrill sound of the silver appliance dragged him back into the land of the living. Quickly preparing his concoction, he drank it down and replaced the mug on the dingy counter for future use, then headed toward the door and began rifling through the bin full of mail.
"Bill, junk, past due bill - bloody arseholes - and-- just what're you?" he asked aloud to the sheet of paper in his hand, leaning closer to have a proper look. He chuckled a little and then frowned at the words. "Well, that's not fucking foreboding or anything. What an invitation."
Tossing the flyer back into the bin, he checked the time and cursed, stumbling his way towards the washroom and cursing again at his curiosity. "Gotta' be a trap or somethin'," the dreadlocked male mused as he washed his beard until the lukewarm water of the shower, having to crouch as usual to get any form of water onto his head.
After the quick bit of tidying, he drug on a pair of dark wash jeans and an old t-shirt that read 'Electric Wizard', then made for the door, kicking the bin out of his way so he could unlock it. Slinging his black Shecter over his back and sliding sunglasses over his eyes, he stepped into the day and sighed a breath of toothpaste and the remainder of last night's whiskey. After a quick good morning to the pretty looking (if not a bit peppy) neighbor bird, he set off toward wherever and whoever he was going to meet at this 'rally'.
'Enhanced, huh? Might be an interesting crowd,' he thought as he passed quickly from street to street, the only noise made coming from his boots scuffing the ground or his lighter sparking another cig lit. "Awful habit," he quipped with a grin at a couple of youngsters that'd noticed him and threw up the 'horns'. He brandished the sign back and gave a salute, reminding them of the up and coming show before moving on his way.
Finally, he arrived. It was an odd looking gathering of folk, young and old, but he wasn't too surprised. The amount of shite flooding the news about 'Enhanced' wasn't exactly keeping the rumors on the down-low and the get-together showed it. Whether the people there were all Enhanced or just supporters he couldn't tell. Brushing off the thought, he headed toward a certain tent and meet up with whomever had dropped the lovely flyer into his postbox. Eyeing the other folks gathered, he assumed they'd gotten the same notice. "Looks like I'm a bit late to the party, eh?" he said with a charming grin followed by a yawn.
Karma200
Brownie Goddess
A woman sat in the middle of the living room with long red hair falling down her back in curls as her green eyes starred at the tv in front of her that played Spongebob. She'd woken up 2 hours ago and had done nothing but eaten breakfast as well as watch TV. An hour after waking up was when she was supposed to have left her mansion and go to the hospital where her parents practically lived. Becoming a doctor was not Cici's dream, society was a scary thing that Mars just couldn't stand. She's been born in a money crazy world just like hundreds of others, even while she's 23 years old she had no control over the career she wanted. Those two that she called parents had put the job as head doctor on Mars's shoulders, Mars couldn't see what it was that she truly wanted to do; she had no inspiration but she didn't mind.
Her green eyes slowly looked over at the vibrating iPhone beside her, the caller ID was from her high school friend Mary; Mary was a young and soon to be lawyer that seemed to slightly annoy Cici at some point.
"Hello?" Mars spoke in a calm voice, she could practically see what Mary wanted; something good had most likely happened and Mary wanted to invite some of the girls out to breakfast at an expensive restaurant just to show off. How did Mars know this? Because its a constant pattern for Mary, Mars and the other girls just didn't know how to tell the woman seeing as how the only thing she had going for her was her pride and brains.
"Mars, some of the girls and I are going out for breakfast... I was wondering if you wanted to join us," Mary's slightly high pitched voice came through the other end, causing Mars to flinch a bit even though she should be use to her voice. It was sad that Mary couldn't put her ego to the side and actually ask how her friends are... and care.
"Sure, I'm going to guess you want to meet up at Spiaggia, right?" Mars sighed as she stood up in only a white button up shirt that stopped mid-thigh, her long legs were bare with only a pair black slippers on.
"Wow, its like you can read my mind. See you in 30," With that the person on the other end hung up and Mars tossed her phone on the couch before turning around and making her way into her room. It wasn't really decorated besides a photo of her dog Marbles that had passed away 2 years ago from old age. It was so quiet in this place so Mars are sort of thinking of getting another dog, start anew and hopefully change a few things in her life. It was just a silly dream though, she had already spent her entire life training to become a great doctor; of course still being this young had its good sides so she didn't quite mind.
Opening up her closet Mars looked around the large space that had several racks for different styles; a Jessica Simpson lace print Sweetheart dress made of white fabric and black lace caught her attention. Taking it off the rack she also took a pair of black Gianni Bini Kelby Perforated Espadrille Wedges that Mars favored a bit out of her other wedges. Closing the closet behind her she took the button up shirt off and only took 5 minutes before she was fully dressed and already at her vanity mirror that lay on her desk. Mars used black eyeliner to make a sort of catty look before using a bit of white and black eye-shadow that matched the dress and brightened her green eyes up a bit more. The shoes gave her a bit of extra height, making her 5''7 turn into a 5''10.
That curly red hair of hers was brushed until the curls formed neatly down her shoulders yet allowed her Nadri Crystal Drop earrings, after putting on a rhinestone headband Mars snatched her keys up from the top dresser in her room and left the place that had yet to be decorated. Making sure to bring her phone Cici she left the mansion and used her key to unlock the beautiful Zenvo ST1 that she had just bought last week. She was determined to use this car for a whole month before deciding to use one of her many other cars. Wealth was something that Cici could careless for but since she had the money, what was the point of letting it just sit there? Especially the money she was spending wasn't even really hers. Half of these expensive things that she owned were presents from business associates from her parents that were trying to suck up to them through Mars. It wasn't like she minded it, she got free stuff that could sell for a lot of money.
Sitting on the leather of the seat in the car, she started the car and smirked as it purred to life like a cat. Screeching out of the driveway where her car was previously parked, she made her way onto the streets and let her eyes look at the clean and large houses she passed by. A good thing about being rich is that the neighborhoods were usually always clean as well as the fact that you could have your house away from all the noise. Silence wasn't something that Mars enjoyed but there were times when she appreciated the quiet that surrounded her. Taking a small tube of lip gloss from the glove department she puckered her lips a bit and gently applied the clear and shiny substance on her lips before tossing it back in its previous place. Cici stepped on the gas pedal and smoothly moved around the cars that were moving to slow for her, she was just a few numbers above the speed limit but she wasn't worried about it.
Finally reaching her destination she checked herself in the rear view mirror before sitting back in her car and waiting for the girls when she didn't see their car in the large driveway that the restaurant owned. The reason Mars agreed to show up? She wanted to eat something instead of the instant oatmeal she had a while ago. When she had eaten it, she had eaten with the intentions of it filling her up but she could still feel the emptiness in her stomach and that didn't sit well with her. A small smile formed on her face as she began to remember how she never use to dress up in things like this and if she didn't have an image to uphold she would've come out with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Uncomfortable. That was the first thing she felt when her mom had started to force the word 'elegance' on her at the age of 16 years old. As Cici got older she began to understand the difference between the two worlds; the world she wanted to be in and the world she was born in. Now there was a third world... Mars's secret world. If someone had heard the word 'hero' from Mars, they'd think she was insane.
Sure, showing someone a bit of proof would make it much more believable but that was one thing that Cici didn't want. It would cause more eyes to be upon her; being poked and prodded with a needle was not something that sounded appealing to Mars. Her train of thought was interrupted when she noticed 3 cars pull up at the same time, the girls had arrived. Ugh. Here comes the act that Mars somehow found annoying yet amusing. How was it not funny to have to put up a complete lie about yourself yet everyone believes it? It made Cici want to laugh at their stupidity. Getting out of the car she locked her car before making her way toward the entrance of the restaurant where the girls waited for her.
"Stunning like usual Cici," One of the women named Tiana gave Mars a smile that had a bit of an awkward edge to it, just like the girls had to put up with Mary's annoying ways is like how they had to put up with Cici's straightforwardness that scared a lot of people away. Tiana had on a white Antonio Melani Verga dress that hugged her petite form with a pearl white belt in the middle; her short blonde hair was straight and was just above her shoulders, she had a bit to much make-up for Cici's taste but she wasn't about to open her mouth to say anything.
"Loving the dress," Fiona smirked at Mars as she looked her up and down critically, Fiona was known for her horrible attitude and even though Mars wasn't one to put up with an attitude, Fiona was the only who kept it real in the group. She spoke her mind no matter how... rude it came out. Having someone who spoke the truth was always a good thing every now and then. Though she remembered having punched Fiona in the face when they had first met in high school. The pale pink Peplum dress she had on was not to Mars's taste and she openly put a look of disgust on her face to show it to her, might as well show her a bit of cattiness right?
"Agreed... now, lets get the show on the road," Mary huffed a bit, angry that her light blue Scalloped dress didn't outdo the other girls; with a roll of her eyes Mars stepped into the building with a smile on her face as they reached the man who stood in a tuxedo with a stand in front of him.
"Ms. Ayres, Ms. Jones and Ms. Houston... its a pleasure to have you today. Please come this way," He gave them each a proper nod before walking away with all 4 girls following behind him. Once they took their seats Mars took a quick look at the menu set in front of her before looking at the girls who were also scanning their menus, acting as if they didn't know what they wanted when they always ordered the exact same thing all the time.
"Are you ready?" A woman with her dark hair pulled into a ponytail came to the table, a waitress that served them a few times in the past. While the others ordered their food Mars chewed on the inside of her cheek, she wasn't anxious or anything but boredom was quickly taking over.
"I'd like soft scrambled eggs with mascarpone and chives, roasted Yukon gold potatoes with Montasio fonduta and thyme, Grappa cured king salmon followed with Venetian style donuts filled with vanilla pastry cream. Oh and a glass of Bacardi Silver Rum," Mars ordered when her turn had come. Screw it being to early to drink, if she had to deal with the same gender that PMSed just like her, she was going to drink. The other girls understood how she felt... well, Tiana and Fiona did.
"I can't believe your going to drink this early," Mary muttered under her breath. All Cici could think of was 'when will this be over?'.
Her green eyes slowly looked over at the vibrating iPhone beside her, the caller ID was from her high school friend Mary; Mary was a young and soon to be lawyer that seemed to slightly annoy Cici at some point.
"Hello?" Mars spoke in a calm voice, she could practically see what Mary wanted; something good had most likely happened and Mary wanted to invite some of the girls out to breakfast at an expensive restaurant just to show off. How did Mars know this? Because its a constant pattern for Mary, Mars and the other girls just didn't know how to tell the woman seeing as how the only thing she had going for her was her pride and brains.
"Mars, some of the girls and I are going out for breakfast... I was wondering if you wanted to join us," Mary's slightly high pitched voice came through the other end, causing Mars to flinch a bit even though she should be use to her voice. It was sad that Mary couldn't put her ego to the side and actually ask how her friends are... and care.
"Sure, I'm going to guess you want to meet up at Spiaggia, right?" Mars sighed as she stood up in only a white button up shirt that stopped mid-thigh, her long legs were bare with only a pair black slippers on.
"Wow, its like you can read my mind. See you in 30," With that the person on the other end hung up and Mars tossed her phone on the couch before turning around and making her way into her room. It wasn't really decorated besides a photo of her dog Marbles that had passed away 2 years ago from old age. It was so quiet in this place so Mars are sort of thinking of getting another dog, start anew and hopefully change a few things in her life. It was just a silly dream though, she had already spent her entire life training to become a great doctor; of course still being this young had its good sides so she didn't quite mind.
Opening up her closet Mars looked around the large space that had several racks for different styles; a Jessica Simpson lace print Sweetheart dress made of white fabric and black lace caught her attention. Taking it off the rack she also took a pair of black Gianni Bini Kelby Perforated Espadrille Wedges that Mars favored a bit out of her other wedges. Closing the closet behind her she took the button up shirt off and only took 5 minutes before she was fully dressed and already at her vanity mirror that lay on her desk. Mars used black eyeliner to make a sort of catty look before using a bit of white and black eye-shadow that matched the dress and brightened her green eyes up a bit more. The shoes gave her a bit of extra height, making her 5''7 turn into a 5''10.
That curly red hair of hers was brushed until the curls formed neatly down her shoulders yet allowed her Nadri Crystal Drop earrings, after putting on a rhinestone headband Mars snatched her keys up from the top dresser in her room and left the place that had yet to be decorated. Making sure to bring her phone Cici she left the mansion and used her key to unlock the beautiful Zenvo ST1 that she had just bought last week. She was determined to use this car for a whole month before deciding to use one of her many other cars. Wealth was something that Cici could careless for but since she had the money, what was the point of letting it just sit there? Especially the money she was spending wasn't even really hers. Half of these expensive things that she owned were presents from business associates from her parents that were trying to suck up to them through Mars. It wasn't like she minded it, she got free stuff that could sell for a lot of money.
Sitting on the leather of the seat in the car, she started the car and smirked as it purred to life like a cat. Screeching out of the driveway where her car was previously parked, she made her way onto the streets and let her eyes look at the clean and large houses she passed by. A good thing about being rich is that the neighborhoods were usually always clean as well as the fact that you could have your house away from all the noise. Silence wasn't something that Mars enjoyed but there were times when she appreciated the quiet that surrounded her. Taking a small tube of lip gloss from the glove department she puckered her lips a bit and gently applied the clear and shiny substance on her lips before tossing it back in its previous place. Cici stepped on the gas pedal and smoothly moved around the cars that were moving to slow for her, she was just a few numbers above the speed limit but she wasn't worried about it.
Finally reaching her destination she checked herself in the rear view mirror before sitting back in her car and waiting for the girls when she didn't see their car in the large driveway that the restaurant owned. The reason Mars agreed to show up? She wanted to eat something instead of the instant oatmeal she had a while ago. When she had eaten it, she had eaten with the intentions of it filling her up but she could still feel the emptiness in her stomach and that didn't sit well with her. A small smile formed on her face as she began to remember how she never use to dress up in things like this and if she didn't have an image to uphold she would've come out with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Uncomfortable. That was the first thing she felt when her mom had started to force the word 'elegance' on her at the age of 16 years old. As Cici got older she began to understand the difference between the two worlds; the world she wanted to be in and the world she was born in. Now there was a third world... Mars's secret world. If someone had heard the word 'hero' from Mars, they'd think she was insane.
Sure, showing someone a bit of proof would make it much more believable but that was one thing that Cici didn't want. It would cause more eyes to be upon her; being poked and prodded with a needle was not something that sounded appealing to Mars. Her train of thought was interrupted when she noticed 3 cars pull up at the same time, the girls had arrived. Ugh. Here comes the act that Mars somehow found annoying yet amusing. How was it not funny to have to put up a complete lie about yourself yet everyone believes it? It made Cici want to laugh at their stupidity. Getting out of the car she locked her car before making her way toward the entrance of the restaurant where the girls waited for her.
"Stunning like usual Cici," One of the women named Tiana gave Mars a smile that had a bit of an awkward edge to it, just like the girls had to put up with Mary's annoying ways is like how they had to put up with Cici's straightforwardness that scared a lot of people away. Tiana had on a white Antonio Melani Verga dress that hugged her petite form with a pearl white belt in the middle; her short blonde hair was straight and was just above her shoulders, she had a bit to much make-up for Cici's taste but she wasn't about to open her mouth to say anything.
"Loving the dress," Fiona smirked at Mars as she looked her up and down critically, Fiona was known for her horrible attitude and even though Mars wasn't one to put up with an attitude, Fiona was the only who kept it real in the group. She spoke her mind no matter how... rude it came out. Having someone who spoke the truth was always a good thing every now and then. Though she remembered having punched Fiona in the face when they had first met in high school. The pale pink Peplum dress she had on was not to Mars's taste and she openly put a look of disgust on her face to show it to her, might as well show her a bit of cattiness right?
"Agreed... now, lets get the show on the road," Mary huffed a bit, angry that her light blue Scalloped dress didn't outdo the other girls; with a roll of her eyes Mars stepped into the building with a smile on her face as they reached the man who stood in a tuxedo with a stand in front of him.
"Ms. Ayres, Ms. Jones and Ms. Houston... its a pleasure to have you today. Please come this way," He gave them each a proper nod before walking away with all 4 girls following behind him. Once they took their seats Mars took a quick look at the menu set in front of her before looking at the girls who were also scanning their menus, acting as if they didn't know what they wanted when they always ordered the exact same thing all the time.
"Are you ready?" A woman with her dark hair pulled into a ponytail came to the table, a waitress that served them a few times in the past. While the others ordered their food Mars chewed on the inside of her cheek, she wasn't anxious or anything but boredom was quickly taking over.
"I'd like soft scrambled eggs with mascarpone and chives, roasted Yukon gold potatoes with Montasio fonduta and thyme, Grappa cured king salmon followed with Venetian style donuts filled with vanilla pastry cream. Oh and a glass of Bacardi Silver Rum," Mars ordered when her turn had come. Screw it being to early to drink, if she had to deal with the same gender that PMSed just like her, she was going to drink. The other girls understood how she felt... well, Tiana and Fiona did.
"I can't believe your going to drink this early," Mary muttered under her breath. All Cici could think of was 'when will this be over?'.
Carl
Not A Llama...
How long had it been?
Five months? Regardless if that estimate was accurate or not, Elijah still felt like everything started yesterday at best. The roughest part for him had been to keep it a secret from everyone, he wasn't the type to easily lie and keep secrets from his close ones. Even so, he knew he had to, for his own selfish reasons. Yet the ability in itself, that he seemed to have obtained one way or another, was something that he had accepted as part of him fairly quickly. More than accepting it, he had learned to embrace it, analyze it and even train it to the point of being able to control the ability slightly. It had taken him about a month, a month of being on 'sick leave' and barely leaving his place, but he had subdued it and taken the reigns from its grasp over his body.
After which he had returned to fulfill his duties as both a police officer and a human being, maintaining his civiliand and employment relationships while dodging too intrusive questions regarding the time he 'vanished'. He was sure he hadn't slipped, but yet somehow he had received a message at his home, telling him someone knew who and 'what' he was, telling him it was in his best interest to be at a predetermined location and time. The tone of the message had him more angered than worried.
'What he was....'
'In his best interest'
Fuck! He was Elijah Lefou, a good man and a good cop, not a freak or monster for someone who didn't even had the balls to confront him directly to tell him otherwise. He was going to the 'invitation' but he was anything but pleased and definitely not the kind to keep it inside. He was driving to the event, with his own car but in police outfit, he didn't come straight from work but it was for personal reasons that he decided to come this way, his eyes shifted towards his holstered gun, frowning slightly as he tried to justify to himself as to why he had loaded it beforehand...Better safe than sorry he decided, and drove onto the parking lot.
Having parked his car, he took out the invitation from the glovebox and looked at it again, the flyer was about a rally to stop the Shoot-To-Kill law against criminal Enhanceds. With a snarl he flipped it over and read the message directed at him again, he had a minor idea as to why he was invited there...But the manner on how the invitation was written and delivered, kept him in the dark.
This was no formal invitation to put a face on the campaign and back the rally organizers, this was a Under The Table message, he doubted he was invited to back the campaign, but still he couldn't come up with another reason. Sighing, he folded the flyer and put it in his pocket before opening the door and stepping out onto the concrete parking lot, there were more than a few people present. There for the cause or in the hopes of being treated to a 'freak show'...All Elijah knew it was shining bright and warm and he was there with a clear conscious and a mind set on speaking to the 'host' directly and at least hear him out before throwing his own thoughts on the table.
With that goal in mind, he straightened his cap and walked towards the entrance, where he was halted by a security guard and told the police officers in charge of security are stationed elsewhere, after explaining he was here for other reasons, without going in-depth about it, the guard seemed confused but let him through without making a fuss about it. After having been given a small wristband and put on his left arm, he entered the terrain of the rally. The place was already started getting packed with all kinds of people.
Civilians, guards, journalists and men holding photo- and videocameras were walking in all directions or grouped up drinking provided drinks and eating small snacks delivered by hired waiters. Elijah accepted a glass of juice from one of the waiters stopping by and took a sip to counter the heat and dry mouth before going towards the information point/tent and requesting directions to the publicity tent.
"The publicity tent is not open yet, sir."
"Alright, but where-abouts is it located?"
"It's shown on the direction boards, sir."
Elijah turned on the spot and as the, obviously bored and not about to break a sweat answering questions too in-depth, information girl had said, there were wooden poles stationed on each cross and T-junction in sight, nodding and thanking the lazy girl dryly he stepped back into the heat outside. Thankfully there was a light breeze cooling him off from time to time as he followed the boards until he came at a large colorful tent, which was in fact still closed off. Thankful for the lack of proper guards stationed near the tent, Elijah quickly went between the tent and the fence surrounding the rally' terrain, until he arrived at his destination.
Five months? Regardless if that estimate was accurate or not, Elijah still felt like everything started yesterday at best. The roughest part for him had been to keep it a secret from everyone, he wasn't the type to easily lie and keep secrets from his close ones. Even so, he knew he had to, for his own selfish reasons. Yet the ability in itself, that he seemed to have obtained one way or another, was something that he had accepted as part of him fairly quickly. More than accepting it, he had learned to embrace it, analyze it and even train it to the point of being able to control the ability slightly. It had taken him about a month, a month of being on 'sick leave' and barely leaving his place, but he had subdued it and taken the reigns from its grasp over his body.
After which he had returned to fulfill his duties as both a police officer and a human being, maintaining his civiliand and employment relationships while dodging too intrusive questions regarding the time he 'vanished'. He was sure he hadn't slipped, but yet somehow he had received a message at his home, telling him someone knew who and 'what' he was, telling him it was in his best interest to be at a predetermined location and time. The tone of the message had him more angered than worried.
'What he was....'
'In his best interest'
Fuck! He was Elijah Lefou, a good man and a good cop, not a freak or monster for someone who didn't even had the balls to confront him directly to tell him otherwise. He was going to the 'invitation' but he was anything but pleased and definitely not the kind to keep it inside. He was driving to the event, with his own car but in police outfit, he didn't come straight from work but it was for personal reasons that he decided to come this way, his eyes shifted towards his holstered gun, frowning slightly as he tried to justify to himself as to why he had loaded it beforehand...Better safe than sorry he decided, and drove onto the parking lot.
Having parked his car, he took out the invitation from the glovebox and looked at it again, the flyer was about a rally to stop the Shoot-To-Kill law against criminal Enhanceds. With a snarl he flipped it over and read the message directed at him again, he had a minor idea as to why he was invited there...But the manner on how the invitation was written and delivered, kept him in the dark.
This was no formal invitation to put a face on the campaign and back the rally organizers, this was a Under The Table message, he doubted he was invited to back the campaign, but still he couldn't come up with another reason. Sighing, he folded the flyer and put it in his pocket before opening the door and stepping out onto the concrete parking lot, there were more than a few people present. There for the cause or in the hopes of being treated to a 'freak show'...All Elijah knew it was shining bright and warm and he was there with a clear conscious and a mind set on speaking to the 'host' directly and at least hear him out before throwing his own thoughts on the table.
With that goal in mind, he straightened his cap and walked towards the entrance, where he was halted by a security guard and told the police officers in charge of security are stationed elsewhere, after explaining he was here for other reasons, without going in-depth about it, the guard seemed confused but let him through without making a fuss about it. After having been given a small wristband and put on his left arm, he entered the terrain of the rally. The place was already started getting packed with all kinds of people.
Civilians, guards, journalists and men holding photo- and videocameras were walking in all directions or grouped up drinking provided drinks and eating small snacks delivered by hired waiters. Elijah accepted a glass of juice from one of the waiters stopping by and took a sip to counter the heat and dry mouth before going towards the information point/tent and requesting directions to the publicity tent.
"The publicity tent is not open yet, sir."
"Alright, but where-abouts is it located?"
"It's shown on the direction boards, sir."
Elijah turned on the spot and as the, obviously bored and not about to break a sweat answering questions too in-depth, information girl had said, there were wooden poles stationed on each cross and T-junction in sight, nodding and thanking the lazy girl dryly he stepped back into the heat outside. Thankfully there was a light breeze cooling him off from time to time as he followed the boards until he came at a large colorful tent, which was in fact still closed off. Thankful for the lack of proper guards stationed near the tent, Elijah quickly went between the tent and the fence surrounding the rally' terrain, until he arrived at his destination.
ErisianDialects
The Purple Sage
'What do you want, old guy?'
An eyebrow raised, he wasn't young, yes, but it wasn't like he was going grey and senile. That was the problems with kids today, always thinking just because people were mature, that they were old. It just meant, like an aged fine wine, their price increased. He showed no surprise at the girl's arrival, there was no point to it, not really, and just as he was opening his mouth to reply with 'Oh, I wanted you to sign a CD', another voice popped up with 'So where does a creep like you get information on little girls?'
"So you're saying you don't recognize one of America's best singers from her voice alone?"
It was not spoken with a smile, as he took another drag on the cigarette, letting the smoke trail out of his nose. A poker face, a little source of trouble. Of course, anyone with a functioning brain cell and an internet presence knew everything about the girl's life. In fact, it was hard for it to be avoided.
"HashtagOutOfTheLoop."
Of course, with unerring timing, another young woman would arrive, complaining about nap time. Nap time? That one did actually get a response out of Garrick. His head tilted and his face twisted. Now, it could of just been him, but the twitchy lad seemed a whole lot more adult than a woman who apparently needed naps. What was she? Part cat?
Garrick would take in a deep breath, slowly letting it out as he re-centered himself. He calmed his face, shaking his head a little and taking another long drag of the cigarette.
"You may have to excuse me for saying this, but wh-"
Another arrival, one butting in with an introduction. Garrick's eye actually twitched a little at this point. It was not like him to be willingly surrounded by people he didn't know. It was quite, annoying, really. He put on a mask, put on a show, and could live, but he was very introverted. He had no idea why the people were there. They just were there. Invading his show, his own little game.
Another new arrival, and his eye was definitely starting to twitch. Roald Dahl's imagination had nothing on what this new arrival was like. He wasn't sure if it was making his eye bleed, but it was definitely the standard 'Alan Moore on LSD' look, some kind of truly insane type. Even if the man wasn't enhanced, he looked like he was.
Another man moved into place silently, and Garrick stuck his cigarette into his mouth, taking a long drag. As he slowly trailed the smoke out of his nose, without removing the smoke from his lips, his hands began work on rolling another one, this one, the tobacco scented a lot more fragrant. And slightly less tobacco-y, as if it was mixed with something.
He was needing it. He was not going to be able to cope with the questions. Especially when another kid tumbled his way into the gathering.
"A Zetan... grey?"
The cigarette bobbed at the corner of his lips, and he would look around for an ash tray, finally juggling the half rolled smoke, scraping the butt of the last on the sole of his foot, and placing the fresh one in his mouth after finishing it.
Emlilyn especially would recognize the scent when he lit up his new smoke. A girl and her pug. It was kinda sweet, he hoped the mistress and pet theory wasn't going to go into play too hard. Kinda cute. He would smile at her, before the new arrival came in asking about a bar or an aspirin. His hand dipped into his jacket and he took out a pack of paracetamol and a flask, offering them to the latest arrival.
The next new arrival spoke of time, and would get a grin.
"Yes, you are late, of course."
His eyeballs rolled. He seemed to be waiting a little expectantly, as he sat in silence, slowly finishing his joint, adding it to the butt on the ground.
"Now, I just have one little que-"
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Ari.jpg.4cfc2c53d9658f8124578e222e988eae.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19011" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Ari.jpg.4cfc2c53d9658f8124578e222e988eae.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Is this the meeting?"
Garrick face palmed at this point. Hard enough that with a crack a lens fell out of his glasses, which would require him to pick it up and push it back into place. It finally happened. Garrick cracked.
"Alright, now then, Who are you all, and what are you doing here? Or is that too much to ask? I mean, I have people out already circulating for more signatures for the position if you're looking for day works, and I don't th-"
"Sir, they're ready for you now."
A tv intern had entered while Garrick was raging, and he sighed, adjusting his hair, straightening his tie.
"I'll be back in a few minutes to sort this all out. Leave me some of the scotch and pills, I think I'm going to need them. I bet this is bloody Nexter or the bloody seer. Or one of MI:13's stunts. Bloody idiots, whoever they were."
He smiled and combed back his hair, moving in front of cameras, the mics picking up his voice as he began to speak about the government's latest tyrannical move to separate those who were different. The words were what happened when his mind went ofn autopilot, a speech memorized, not empty words exactly. It wasn't entirely understandable why people were listening, it was as if he was exerting some undue influence over the crowd.
The man with the beard, stylishly dressed for an actor moved out of the immediate vicinity, and two things seemed to happen at once. The man would glow a little, before power flowed out of him, an explosion away from the crowd, but towards the home of the PM, reducing it in seconds to nothing, a large noise flowing back with a little rubble, the man and the house gone, as well as all those inside it including the Prime Minister and the policemen on guard.
The second thing was that from the position a distance away, MI-13's trained sniper, King, would target the man talking and pulled the trigger.
Garrick spun, feeling like someone had just punched him in the guts, a feeling he knew well. He would roll on his back, reaching down to touch the spreading blood, feeling the aftereffects of the shot, the burning pain, the smell of a toilet in a bad Indian restaurant and he let out, all things considered, a remarkably feminine scream of pain.
"I just got ******* shot, get an ambulance."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Karma200
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/seerb.jpg.90336338f9ccb1000eb537394d9bc777.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19013" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/seerb.jpg.90336338f9ccb1000eb537394d9bc777.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
A small blonde waif moved up to the table where Mars sat with her friend. She shook her head, the hair flicking and hitting herself in the nose. She smelled vaguely unwashed, but not unhygienic, as if she had only been living on the streets a few days. She stared at Mars.
"You should have been there. It was an escape, an adventure. A chance to change the course of history for you and the world. Oh well."
She let out a huge sigh, disappointment creasing her features. It was a tragedy unfolding, she felt the shot being fired, the building destroyed in the ether, as her visions had foretold.
"Diane Nexter. When you find those who saw it, those who were there. It will happen, luck wills it, maybe not today, like it should have been. You have given me such a headache, War God Healer. "
She pouted a little, waggled her finger and began to walk away, towards the exit, rubbing her forehead as the situation unfolded. She had to get home, something was coming. Maybe not right away, but shortly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Hatchet
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Dyson.jpg.c1deaef047e1ca74513c5dc98d3f9cd7.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19014" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Dyson.jpg.c1deaef047e1ca74513c5dc98d3f9cd7.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Why am I here?"
The voice, the smell, and the man all appeared at the exact same time. It was like a vinyard had exploded, a tall man in a dark trenchcoat, covering dress shirt, pants and shoes had appeared in the corner of the room, looking at the monitors.
"More to the point, when am I?"
It was spoken with a slur as he leaned against the wall behind him, taking out a cigarette, the flick of a lighter a few times, the flame when it happened small and weaving, as the cigarette did. He was obviously drunk, far beyond drunk judging by even leaning against the wall he was swaying slightly.
He didn't seem to care that he was in the operations room of one of the nation's secret services. It wasn't as if he knew where he was. When he was. He was having enough difficulty remembering who he was. The fact that blood was dripping from his nose didn't seem to be helping.
An eyebrow raised, he wasn't young, yes, but it wasn't like he was going grey and senile. That was the problems with kids today, always thinking just because people were mature, that they were old. It just meant, like an aged fine wine, their price increased. He showed no surprise at the girl's arrival, there was no point to it, not really, and just as he was opening his mouth to reply with 'Oh, I wanted you to sign a CD', another voice popped up with 'So where does a creep like you get information on little girls?'
"So you're saying you don't recognize one of America's best singers from her voice alone?"
It was not spoken with a smile, as he took another drag on the cigarette, letting the smoke trail out of his nose. A poker face, a little source of trouble. Of course, anyone with a functioning brain cell and an internet presence knew everything about the girl's life. In fact, it was hard for it to be avoided.
"HashtagOutOfTheLoop."
Of course, with unerring timing, another young woman would arrive, complaining about nap time. Nap time? That one did actually get a response out of Garrick. His head tilted and his face twisted. Now, it could of just been him, but the twitchy lad seemed a whole lot more adult than a woman who apparently needed naps. What was she? Part cat?
Garrick would take in a deep breath, slowly letting it out as he re-centered himself. He calmed his face, shaking his head a little and taking another long drag of the cigarette.
"You may have to excuse me for saying this, but wh-"
Another arrival, one butting in with an introduction. Garrick's eye actually twitched a little at this point. It was not like him to be willingly surrounded by people he didn't know. It was quite, annoying, really. He put on a mask, put on a show, and could live, but he was very introverted. He had no idea why the people were there. They just were there. Invading his show, his own little game.
Another new arrival, and his eye was definitely starting to twitch. Roald Dahl's imagination had nothing on what this new arrival was like. He wasn't sure if it was making his eye bleed, but it was definitely the standard 'Alan Moore on LSD' look, some kind of truly insane type. Even if the man wasn't enhanced, he looked like he was.
Another man moved into place silently, and Garrick stuck his cigarette into his mouth, taking a long drag. As he slowly trailed the smoke out of his nose, without removing the smoke from his lips, his hands began work on rolling another one, this one, the tobacco scented a lot more fragrant. And slightly less tobacco-y, as if it was mixed with something.
He was needing it. He was not going to be able to cope with the questions. Especially when another kid tumbled his way into the gathering.
"A Zetan... grey?"
The cigarette bobbed at the corner of his lips, and he would look around for an ash tray, finally juggling the half rolled smoke, scraping the butt of the last on the sole of his foot, and placing the fresh one in his mouth after finishing it.
Emlilyn especially would recognize the scent when he lit up his new smoke. A girl and her pug. It was kinda sweet, he hoped the mistress and pet theory wasn't going to go into play too hard. Kinda cute. He would smile at her, before the new arrival came in asking about a bar or an aspirin. His hand dipped into his jacket and he took out a pack of paracetamol and a flask, offering them to the latest arrival.
The next new arrival spoke of time, and would get a grin.
"Yes, you are late, of course."
His eyeballs rolled. He seemed to be waiting a little expectantly, as he sat in silence, slowly finishing his joint, adding it to the butt on the ground.
"Now, I just have one little que-"
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Ari.jpg.4cfc2c53d9658f8124578e222e988eae.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19011" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Ari.jpg.4cfc2c53d9658f8124578e222e988eae.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Is this the meeting?"
Garrick face palmed at this point. Hard enough that with a crack a lens fell out of his glasses, which would require him to pick it up and push it back into place. It finally happened. Garrick cracked.
"Alright, now then, Who are you all, and what are you doing here? Or is that too much to ask? I mean, I have people out already circulating for more signatures for the position if you're looking for day works, and I don't th-"
"Sir, they're ready for you now."
A tv intern had entered while Garrick was raging, and he sighed, adjusting his hair, straightening his tie.
"I'll be back in a few minutes to sort this all out. Leave me some of the scotch and pills, I think I'm going to need them. I bet this is bloody Nexter or the bloody seer. Or one of MI:13's stunts. Bloody idiots, whoever they were."
He smiled and combed back his hair, moving in front of cameras, the mics picking up his voice as he began to speak about the government's latest tyrannical move to separate those who were different. The words were what happened when his mind went ofn autopilot, a speech memorized, not empty words exactly. It wasn't entirely understandable why people were listening, it was as if he was exerting some undue influence over the crowd.
The man with the beard, stylishly dressed for an actor moved out of the immediate vicinity, and two things seemed to happen at once. The man would glow a little, before power flowed out of him, an explosion away from the crowd, but towards the home of the PM, reducing it in seconds to nothing, a large noise flowing back with a little rubble, the man and the house gone, as well as all those inside it including the Prime Minister and the policemen on guard.
The second thing was that from the position a distance away, MI-13's trained sniper, King, would target the man talking and pulled the trigger.
Garrick spun, feeling like someone had just punched him in the guts, a feeling he knew well. He would roll on his back, reaching down to touch the spreading blood, feeling the aftereffects of the shot, the burning pain, the smell of a toilet in a bad Indian restaurant and he let out, all things considered, a remarkably feminine scream of pain.
"I just got ******* shot, get an ambulance."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Karma200
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/seerb.jpg.90336338f9ccb1000eb537394d9bc777.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19013" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/seerb.jpg.90336338f9ccb1000eb537394d9bc777.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
A small blonde waif moved up to the table where Mars sat with her friend. She shook her head, the hair flicking and hitting herself in the nose. She smelled vaguely unwashed, but not unhygienic, as if she had only been living on the streets a few days. She stared at Mars.
"You should have been there. It was an escape, an adventure. A chance to change the course of history for you and the world. Oh well."
She let out a huge sigh, disappointment creasing her features. It was a tragedy unfolding, she felt the shot being fired, the building destroyed in the ether, as her visions had foretold.
"Diane Nexter. When you find those who saw it, those who were there. It will happen, luck wills it, maybe not today, like it should have been. You have given me such a headache, War God Healer. "
She pouted a little, waggled her finger and began to walk away, towards the exit, rubbing her forehead as the situation unfolded. She had to get home, something was coming. Maybe not right away, but shortly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Hatchet
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Dyson.jpg.c1deaef047e1ca74513c5dc98d3f9cd7.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="19014" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_05/Dyson.jpg.c1deaef047e1ca74513c5dc98d3f9cd7.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
"Why am I here?"
The voice, the smell, and the man all appeared at the exact same time. It was like a vinyard had exploded, a tall man in a dark trenchcoat, covering dress shirt, pants and shoes had appeared in the corner of the room, looking at the monitors.
"More to the point, when am I?"
It was spoken with a slur as he leaned against the wall behind him, taking out a cigarette, the flick of a lighter a few times, the flame when it happened small and weaving, as the cigarette did. He was obviously drunk, far beyond drunk judging by even leaning against the wall he was swaying slightly.
He didn't seem to care that he was in the operations room of one of the nation's secret services. It wasn't as if he knew where he was. When he was. He was having enough difficulty remembering who he was. The fact that blood was dripping from his nose didn't seem to be helping.
Attachments
Hatchet
Blunt and Sharp
Now they were gathering up like flies, but Robin’s system was rapidly crossing faces with data for quick access and Louis was familiar with almost everything they already had on the known individuals. As the appointed time approached, the crowd outside the prime minister’s building swelled even faster. Koiichi disengaged from his newest friends to put himself in position, as close to the PM’s guarded gate as he could, giving Louis one straight view of the crowd facing the unmanned podium. He was too unassuming to be bothered by the present police.
The rush of intel and anticipation was making Louis unsteady despite all his efforts and all his calming preparation. Shoving back the rolling chair, he snatched up his empty cup and lurched to the hot water thermos, the unscented steam moistening his face, clearing his sinuses and his head. He could think of worse dependencies, and he could think of better times to get nervous.
“Garrick on the move,” Jayden’s voice in his ear almost made Louis drop the cup and he put it down, shaking off his scalded hand, grimacing.
“Amim, stay close to the tent,” Louis said, turning to scan the monitors and Robin relayed his command. “Don’t force anyone, but try to keep them from leaving yet.” Nothing had been confirmed. Rake had gotten them together and left without enforcing anything. What was going to keep these motley fellows together until he could get to them? His fingers fumbled the tea bag into the hot water and then he crossed his arms, pressing his hands close to his ribs, watching, apprehension giving him an unblinking stare.
"What do you think is coming?” Draghici asked softly. The intensity of the small room had become palpable, ending all banter in favor of focus.
If he knew Rake…Louis switched to Robin’s channel. “Everyone, spread out and get out of the crowds if you can. Karen, move on the podium, but don’t let Rake see—”
The cameras all flared out, the infrared blazed and speakers crackled violently. It took all of Louis’ will not to rip the headset off but he turned his head to the window. The initial explosion was over, black smoke and debris were still flying into the air and he could see it from this vantage all too easily. Turning back to the monitors, some of the feeds had been restored, he could see panicked faces, bloody, black streaked and some of his people were fighting against the press. The prime minister’s building was a smoking hole. “Koiichi?” he heard Robin demand once, but the camera was dark, and there was no answer.
It was impossible to hear the shot, but Louis saw Rake crumple, and someone was close enough for the piercing scream to come through the headset. A curse rose to his frozen tongue, but Louis gave flat order instead of his anger. “Karen, get him out of there. Amim, get the kids to the rendezvous, I don’t care what you have to say.” He switched to the third channel and growled to the lone receiver. “King, you have five seconds.”
- - - - - - - - - -
When the command buzzed into his earpiece, Amim stopped what he was doing and darted into the tent where the newly empowered were gathered, vulnerably clustered. “Come with me if you want to live,” Amim declared to them boldly, pointing the way he wanted them to go between the news vans. No cameras on this route.
- - - - - - - - - -
And in the middle of all this, someone broke into the operations and faced Louis, reeking, blinking and lost. A sharp gesture from Louis stopped Draghici mid-draw and the time it took the intruder to light a cigarette he could keep steady, Louis analyzed his appearance and his words. Grabbing his empty chair, Louis flung it to roll towards the corner. “Sit,” he said, numb to his nerves now that all the anxiety was proving true. He picked up his cup and held it out. “Have some tea. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” Of course there would be a time traveler. Of course there was. Dammit, Rake.
The rush of intel and anticipation was making Louis unsteady despite all his efforts and all his calming preparation. Shoving back the rolling chair, he snatched up his empty cup and lurched to the hot water thermos, the unscented steam moistening his face, clearing his sinuses and his head. He could think of worse dependencies, and he could think of better times to get nervous.
“Garrick on the move,” Jayden’s voice in his ear almost made Louis drop the cup and he put it down, shaking off his scalded hand, grimacing.
“Amim, stay close to the tent,” Louis said, turning to scan the monitors and Robin relayed his command. “Don’t force anyone, but try to keep them from leaving yet.” Nothing had been confirmed. Rake had gotten them together and left without enforcing anything. What was going to keep these motley fellows together until he could get to them? His fingers fumbled the tea bag into the hot water and then he crossed his arms, pressing his hands close to his ribs, watching, apprehension giving him an unblinking stare.
"What do you think is coming?” Draghici asked softly. The intensity of the small room had become palpable, ending all banter in favor of focus.
If he knew Rake…Louis switched to Robin’s channel. “Everyone, spread out and get out of the crowds if you can. Karen, move on the podium, but don’t let Rake see—”
The cameras all flared out, the infrared blazed and speakers crackled violently. It took all of Louis’ will not to rip the headset off but he turned his head to the window. The initial explosion was over, black smoke and debris were still flying into the air and he could see it from this vantage all too easily. Turning back to the monitors, some of the feeds had been restored, he could see panicked faces, bloody, black streaked and some of his people were fighting against the press. The prime minister’s building was a smoking hole. “Koiichi?” he heard Robin demand once, but the camera was dark, and there was no answer.
It was impossible to hear the shot, but Louis saw Rake crumple, and someone was close enough for the piercing scream to come through the headset. A curse rose to his frozen tongue, but Louis gave flat order instead of his anger. “Karen, get him out of there. Amim, get the kids to the rendezvous, I don’t care what you have to say.” He switched to the third channel and growled to the lone receiver. “King, you have five seconds.”
- - - - - - - - - -
When the command buzzed into his earpiece, Amim stopped what he was doing and darted into the tent where the newly empowered were gathered, vulnerably clustered. “Come with me if you want to live,” Amim declared to them boldly, pointing the way he wanted them to go between the news vans. No cameras on this route.
- - - - - - - - - -
And in the middle of all this, someone broke into the operations and faced Louis, reeking, blinking and lost. A sharp gesture from Louis stopped Draghici mid-draw and the time it took the intruder to light a cigarette he could keep steady, Louis analyzed his appearance and his words. Grabbing his empty chair, Louis flung it to roll towards the corner. “Sit,” he said, numb to his nerves now that all the anxiety was proving true. He picked up his cup and held it out. “Have some tea. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” Of course there would be a time traveler. Of course there was. Dammit, Rake.
Last edited by a moderator:
ErisianDialects
The Purple Sage
This role play has been marked "inactive". Inactive role plays are defined as "role plays showing 0 activity within a 30 day period".
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Please contact an @Rp Moderator if you feel this was a mistake or if you would like to have your role play reactivated.
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