Project Atlas [Inactive]

Dolos shook the outstretched hand firmly and opened his mouth, about to make mention of the fact that General Grant's advice was aged and outdated, validated by the fact that the man and that philosophy led to the largest loss of life in American history...but instead as he shook the hand, he felt the distinct feeling of...nothing. He knew immediately what had happened, although not to the exact degree. This man had somewhat negated his powers. He didn't know if it were the man himself, or some outside factor, but it didn't matter. No answer worth getting was immediately attained. This was just more puzzle pieces to put in place later.


He smirked back at Mark, not letting go of the hand yet. "Interesting Vanburen. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Finally he let go of the hand and thought quickly. He knew that Vanburen knew what he was doing and most people would have been frustrated at this point, frustrated and confused. Dolos however did not think like most people. He focused on the fact that while he failed to attain DNA, as if there wasn't enough to go around, he learned something. And knowledge was more important at any point.


At that point, Vanburen, the young agent and the Sergeant all seemed to have their own agenda, so Dolos looked around and studied everything in the room. He studied the damage that had been done, associated it with who he remembered causing the damage, mentally mulled over conversations, and then legitimately went to look for something to do.


Dolos was not always this observant and calculating. When his power to change forms developed, he was young and that power led him down a path. That path was to be able to learn, and that started first with his power. He had no idea what he could to or what he was capable of, and he didn't have anyone to just ask, he couldn't google a reference on "Shapechangers for dummies." That was his first step in becoming a thinker first and using his powers to compliment that.


He felt that was the big difference between most metas. They get a power and mold their lives around it. They depend on it for success. Then, all it takes is ONE time for that power to fail and they fail.


That wasn't Dolos.


And when he discovered his power of total recall, that mentality became true. He digested everything, broke everything down, replayed things in his head. He'd always been interested in the mechanics of things and not really WHY they happened, but more like, what happened. Most people look at things as two points, A and B. You pull a trigger, it shoots a bullet. They do not think of the trigger releasing the pin, the pin sliding forward, hitting the blast cap, which leads to the powder being ignited and propelling the round out. They don't think about the importance of rifling, muzzle break, springs recoiling and rounds being chambered by the forces the initial round created.


Be it consciously or subconsciously, he found himself walking to the firing range. He looked over a few weapons and mulled over them. He didn't prefer to carry and use firearms, but he also didn't prefer to be shot in the face because he didn't carry a firearm. He picked up a several, touching them, weighing them in his hands, getting a feel for them. Finally he opted to shoot a 40. Sig. It wasn't as heavy as powerful as a Colt 1911, but it wasn't as light as a Glock 9mm. It wasn't that Dolos preferred to just float by in the middle, it was that his limited experience with firearms coupled with the instructions he'd taken and things he'd read, the 45. was a bit more than he felt necessary but the smaller handguns offered less power and didn't have a solid weight to counteract the force of rounds.


He then went ahead and started taking apart the weapon at what appeared to be an almost lethargic pace. He fully stripped it down and put it back together, again at an awkward and almost painfully slow pace.


"Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," he said upon completion.
 
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Cedric had just listned to this whole conversation, becoming a little dissapointed at how this first half-day turned out. He could understand the suspicion, but the opposition to bridge the gaps between the group made him less excited about this job.


As the conversation winded down he felt the need to reach out to at least one of the teammates. So far Janice seemed to be the most energetic, while the others just took, the back seat. Not that he could really blame them. Cedric decided to say something hoping to make this situation less formal and more personal. He strongly believed that the best way to be an effective team, was to make the members your friends. That way one is more inclined to defend the others and trust that it would be reciprocated.


"We may not be a highly trained team right now, but if we actually make an attemp to get to know each other we may mkae some progress." He said that addressing the group in general, now looking at the CO he directed his next thoughts, to him. "As far as hand to hand combat, goes you don't have to worry about me, only thing that needs improvement is my shooting. My uncle was a cop so I know the basics, but I'll need more training." Cedric was now addressing any comment that he had a thought on as they returned to his attention.


This time he turned his attention to Janice hearing her demand suggest a basketball game. " Basketball sounds fun, lets just hope you are over your hangover by then." He said this with a grin his gold eyes taking on a amused look.


He looked around at the rest of the team thinking for a moment before speaking again. "So anyone want to do a group practice and share a bit about ourselves, or are we gonna go back to our corners like frightened schoolchildren?" Cedric stood there his hands in his pockets waiting for any type of response.
 
“Yes, certainly.” Ivan said, only to soon realize that his form of speech was probably expected to be largely altered now that he was presumably part of a military system. “Sergeant Carter. Um, mister. Sergeant. Sir.” He was, however, unsure of how exactly, and ended up piling everything up into a string of indistinct syllables and hoping blindly that at least one of them was what the officer was expecting.


The sergeant gave him a glare of detest before he carried on. Or at least that was what Ivan believed - the man seemed to present that fixed expression no matter the surroundings.


Confusing.


After that he returned his attention to the other team members nearby. He played in his mind a game of guessing - after seeing the situation of the training room - which ones of the people standing in front of him contributed to which portion of the mess. And it was hard to tell, to be honest. You can’t tell an agrokinetic from the looks, energy blasts might as well be coming from the most feeble looking lady as the man with the build of a pro wrestler.


He walked up to the group. How exactly do you introduce yourself to a ragtag bunch of misfits that seemingly just got assembled into a team that, in his understanding, was expected to somehow become an ensemble of makeshift heroes on a field operation in a couple of days, one of them also happens to seems to be drunk and blabbering nonsense? “Bond,” he thought to himself as he put on his smile, ”James Bond.”


“Ivan Vanderhoff.” He said, “A pleasure to m-”


“ OH SARGE! GAME TOMORROW OH-FIVE-THIRTY- ” his attempt was swiftly cut off by the lady with a wobbly stance, the one that was waving her hands his way frantically when he first walked into the room - although he didn’t recall what exactly she said at the time.


Alright. The lady was certainly more than ‘seemingly’ drunk.


It also appears that she was the one who basically disintegrated the practice dummy at the throwing range.


Presumably with a baseball.


Ivan felt somewhat forced into standing aside again as he found it rather hard to pull back an extended hand that expected a handshake but did not receive one without that abrupt tone of unnaturalness - or, rather, to be free an abrupt tone of unnaturalness while making his effort to avoid that exact feeling.


He very much ignored the gentleman who went aside to disassemble a firearm. The well-built man with hair done in braids and golden eyes was engaged in conversation with the Sergeant.


You don’t have to worry about hand to hand combat. Ivan listened. I just need a bit of training with shooting.


What was he supposed to say? “I play a lot of Xbox”?


“AND BRING EXTRA BASKETBALLS!”


He peeked at the obviously hungover girl.


"So anyone want to do a group practice and share a bit about ourselves, or are we gonna go back to our corners like frightened schoolchildren?"


Ivan shrugged at the man’s notion and smiled - not a genuine smile of happiness, nor a smile of a diplomat. It was an awkward smile of an awkward clueless man finding himself in a situation he realized to be impossible to make sense of. It was a “Okay I’m just going to close my eyes and hope everything goes okay”, it was the smile of a frightened schoolboy.


Because, honestly, he’d prefer curling up back in his corner if no-one had a problem with that.


Ivan kept his head tucked up his shoulders, hands in pockets, and made himself aware that what he was thinking wasn’t a valid approach to the current situation.


“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Personal practice. Practice. Right,” he said, sticking his tongue out briefly for multiple times and nearly accidentally bit it for more than once. “practice.”


“Wait. What exactly do you do here again?”
 
Mark focused his attention on Carter. Mark nodded in agreement with what Carter was saying. The challenges were clear: survive or perish. When they were going to be deployed into the field, there would be no room for errors, second guessing or fighting amongst themselves. Metahumans, Mark knew from experience, often fell into two categories: those who were out in the world for themselves and those who were out in the world for others. All power worked this way in people. However, metahumans, having a much higher amount of power and control over others than most, caused the results to be far more drastic.


A small amount of metahumans saw their powers as a gift to help others. These dedicated and good souls typically found themselves in military, Project Atlas, or groups like the Guardians. The vast majority, unfortunately, looked out for their own self interests. They cared only in using powers for exploration to advance personal goals or agendas. Mark did not hate the so called evil villains of the world. A closer feeling, he felt, would be one of pity. They fell prey to the power they were granted and so became bound by it. Without their power, they would likely have been normal people living ordinary lives. How was it that old saying went? Absolute power corrupts absolutely.


One of the reasons Mark loved his job is because of these evil-doers. How would they react if their powers were suddenly gone? After a lifetime of relying on their powers to live out their heart's desires, what would they do? Often the results were humorous, if not somewhat sad. He had hoped that such a reaction would have been given from Dolos, one those he grouped into the self-interested metahuman category, yet he did not respond in a such a way. Perhaps he would need to reevaluate his impression and view of Dolos.


When the sergeant asked for Mark's comments, Mark took a minute to respond, still finishing his final thoughts previously. He pondered the question for a moment before replying “It's been my experience sir that the quickest way to increase both effectiveness and social cohesion is task cohesion. Place this team in a situation each member must be committed to the task and operate as a team. Not only does it for real-world situations we both know are coming, but it also will begin to form the bonds of teamwork and trust that are going to be essential for this team to survive. Basically, sir, team-building exercises. I've got a couple of -” Mark cutoff as Xavier appeared by them.


As Xavier stood there, Mark noted the way he reacted to Dolos. For such a young person, Xavier had much to learn in regards to body tone and position. Every part of his body screamed of open hostility towards Dolos, that much Xavier was sure of. Dolos did seem to catch the posture as he walked off in the direction of the firing range. If he noticed it all, Mark could not say, but if he had noticed it on a conscious level he likely would have wittily remarked on it.


For already being in the program for over a year, Xavier still had much to learn about Project Atlas and the military in general. It was never good form or conduct to interrupt two ranking individuals in the middle of a conversation. It certainly did not amuse Mark at all, and he would not be surprised if Carter was rather cross too. Even worse, Xavier specifically requested to speak with Mark alone, when he was standing right by the Commanding Officer. It was clear that Xavier didn't trust Carter yet, and more.


Turning to address Xavier, Mark stated, “Xavier, we've been over this before. Call me Mark. We go by names not codenames. As for your request to speak privately, anything that needs to be said can be said amongst us three. Carter, as our Commanding Officer, should be privy to any conversations we are having. I shouldn't need to explain that to you.”
 
Diana was rounding her second lap around the training facility, enjoying the rush of air to her lungs as she kept her pace quick but even. She had been careful to steer clear of the two separated groups, not wanting to give away her powers just yet if they hadn't been perceptive enough to notice her from a distance. There was only one spot along the wall that had given her trouble when it came to blending and changing hues; a mirror like those in typical gyms and twenty four hour workout centers.


Sure, she had practiced changing colors in front of glass before, but it was always tricky to keep everything just right. Not only did she need to change to blend with the mirror and create a mock reflection on the side of her body facing her teammates, she needed to recreate the colors of the room perfectly on her side closer to the mirror. It had been a struggle the first time around, causing her to falter her stride and her usual glimmer of movement was more like an obvious heat wave, like one you might spot above the pavement on a hot summer day. On the second lap, however, she nailed it.


Just as she had started in on a third round, a newcomer stepped into the facility, a young man. Diana watched as he made his way to Janice and the others, obviously attempting to introduce himself before being cut off. Bringing her feet to a stop, she raised an eyebrow as she watched the group interact, or rather, their initial lack of interaction with the 'new kid'. Diana might have just found her first ally.


With a slight grin, Diana began to walk towards the little 'meet-and-greet' that she had been avoiding. Still in camouflage, she waited until she was a few steps behind and slightly to the left of the newcomer to reach out and tap his shoulder. Only then did she let her colors fade.


"Hello." She started simply, flashing a smile and offering a handshake. "Diana Chmerkovski, pleasure to meet you."
 
Xavier kept his breathing even. He was now dealing with military politics. The only way around that was to respect it and work within it. “Understood sir. But by now I thought you understood me well enough I would never violate the usual protocols without good reason. I never have since the day I showed up here. If the building was about to be destroyed by terrorism, would you expect me to just stand around waiting while you had a nice long chat? No, under normal circumstances you’d want me to alert the appropriate authorities.


“The trouble is, in this instance I need your advice on a matter. Once I have discussed it with you, if you think it needs to go to the Sergeant or further up, so be it. But the matter is urgent - time critical. It literally can’t wait. The longer we wait, the geometrically greater the damage.


“This will literally only take a second. And I would thank you not to do to me what you did to Dolos. I finally figured out what that was. I had it boiled down to two possibilities. Took me a moment to figure out which it was.”


“”Oh and Sergeant, you should have Dolos wearing a condom - a full body condom - head to toe.” He fought back a smile. “That isn’t a reference to the fact that the man has been a … pickle … since he got here. It is a security matter. Think of Rogue from the X Men. Anyone he has touched needs to be removed from the Project - permanently. I believe that includes you sir. Agent Vanburen would be the exception. And I do plan to take this part of the conversation to the Colonel now. I just wanted to advise you rather than skip the chain of command.


“I did say private, sirs.” Xavier watched Mark's movements carefully lest the man attempt to approach him. He wasn't about to have that same look on his face that Dolos had had.
 
Every team starts somewhere. Carter reminded himself of that fact repeatedly as the others largely ignored a newcomer, Miss Rand decided that drunken yelling about a basketball game was the correct approach to her new team leader, Mr. Vanderhoff asked the most basic of questions, and Dolos went off to go play with firearms. If he knew the Colonel better, he would be hitting Drexler up for some single malt scotch later tonight. As it was, he might have to tap into his own private reserve.


He was about to address the group when Xavier responded to Mark’s commentary about proper protocol around superiors. Curious, Carter let the others introduce themselves as he returned to the pair in time tocatch the boy’s assessment, recommendation, and threat. A half-smile visited his lips as the boy finished, essentially threatening to go to the Colonel. It was an interesting interpretation of what “skipping the chain of command” did and did not mean. “I see. Well, I appreciate your candor. You can speak to Corporal Tyler about getting an appointment with the Colonel.”


He looked at the others in the room for a moment. “Tell me, though, so I know who I’m dealing with.” Then he looked back to Xavier with a relaxed demeanor. He even had a wisp of a smile in place. “I hope you’ll understand, as I only have your file to go on at this point.


“Which security are you concerned about? That the organization as a whole clearly didn’t factor in Dolos’ abilities and what it meant to our security measures in any way when admitting him to the program?” The faintest trace of sarcasm tinged his words before his tone turned more direct and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “I assure that’s something we should not discuss at this particular moment.” He didn’t look in Dolos’ direction, but there was a pause before he continued, keeping his voice level so as not to attract everyone else’s attention. “Or perhaps the security concern is centered on how you reviewed your teammates’ files without permission or clearance? That is something you and I will discuss at some point. After your conversation with the Colonel, of course.”


He looked at Mark, shaking his head minutely. “No offense, Agent, but perhaps it is best that they brought someone in from outside.” His green gaze moved back to Xavier, his expression serious but not stern. “If you believe your superiors and teammates are that incompetent, I encourage you to report it up the chain. Your concern is noted.” As was Xavier’s own breach of security protocols, however well intended. Carter wouldn’t condemn the young man, though. Not publicly, and not without a discussion. It was, however, disappointing that one of the two men he had been counting on to follow protocol had broken it within a half hour of their meeting. The volume of his voice remained conversational, even quiet, throughout the exchange to avoid drawing attention to their conversation. “You have my leave to go speak to the Corporal about that appointment. Although you’ll miss our chance at more thorough introductions – and apparently a potential basketball game.”


He nodded to them both. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, now that our last teammate has arrived, I think it’s time we get some more formal introductions underway before Miss Rand decides to start yelling about squash or cricket.” He moved toward the center of the room where several of the others had started clustering around each other.


He motioned to the destroyed targets and heavy bags. “Well, you all seem to have sufficiently proven your destructive capabilities. Our last team member has arrived.” He motioned toward Ivan, “Welcome, Mr. Vanderhoff.”


He looked at Cedric Kane and nodded to acknowledge the man’s suggestion. “It didn’t make sense to give names twice, so we can go around the room now. Then I suggest that we allow Rand here,” he gestured with his thumb toward Janice, “to get some rest. She’s had a long journey.” His smile returned then, implying amusement, however mild, at her drunken state and yelling.


“Before we do, let me say this: I don’t expect mindless soldiers. You’re each here because of your unique abilities.” He looked at Vanburen and Xavier before continuing on, his voice ringing out in the hall as he utilized the time-honored projection skills of a sergeant. “And I will listen to dissent. We will work the plan together. But ultimately, I’ll make the final call and you will answer to me. Especially in the field.”


He looked at Kane. “As for training… If you want to learn how to use a gun, we can teach you.” His gaze moved again to take in each of the others, one at a time. “If you want to learn how to better defend yourself, that we will do, too. But above all, we will focus on understanding each other’s strengths, shoring up our weaknesses, and learning how to work together.


“You’re not soldiers, but we will be a unit. With one purpose, and under one direction: mine. And above all, we will have each other’s backs.” He paused long enough to let his voice ring in the room before continuing.


He clapped his hands together loudly once. “Now then.” His tone lost a trace of the echo. “Many of you have demonstrated what you can do, but no one knows what the hell to call you. So name and abilities, please.


“I’ll start. My name is Sergeant Carter. Or Sergeant, Sir, or even Sarge, so long as you’re on my good side.” He smiled at his own joke, and his mouth remained closed although they all heard the next words clearly in their heads.


~My particular gift is in communications.~ He paused again briefly, watching their reactions. ~And this is likely how you’ll hear me in the field. Don’t worry, I can’t read your thoughts. But I’ll be giving you devices that will help you project short, specific thoughts to me when we’re in the field. They’ll take some getting used to, so we’ll start practicing with them tomorrow.~


He looked around the group and spoke aloud. “Who’s next?”
 
Sometimes, people surprised Mark. When Xavier launched into his long tirade about military protocol, Mark was a little taken back. Having worked with Xavier for some time, training him and talking to him, he thought he had a good idea of who Xavier was. Now, he was going to have to reevaluate his position on Xavier's personality and maturity.


It was clear that despite how far Mark had come since first joining Project Atlas, he still was not ready to have the training wheels taken off so to speak. He was particularly sad that Xavier had stooped so low to spy on his files. If Xavier would have asked, Mark might have given him a look at them but using his powers to spy on the files made him no better than Dolos, the person he seemed so concerned with. It also broke some of Mark's trust for Xavier, something that was hard to earn back.


Mark was preparing his comments to respond to Xavier when he noted Carter walking back over towards them. With a grimace, Mark just shook his head sadly. He knew the unpleasantness that Carter was about to dole out on Xavier.


Sure enough, it was just as painful as he had expected. Sighing and saying under his breath he said, “Xavier, Xavier, Xavier what are we going to do about you?” As he walked past Xavier, he looked at Xavier with a downcast face. Sometimes, betraying trust hurt.


Listening to Sarge's opening monologue, Mark listened with a somewhat active ear, more caring for the fact that his stomach was rumbling. However, when he heard Sarge speaking in his head, he locked back in his focus quickly. While Sarge was talking, his body's aura shot up several levels of brightness instantly, before dimming back down again indicating that it was in fact his power. Mark was impressed by his ability, but had somehow been hoping it would have been something more exciting such as flying, super strength, etc.


Stepping forward, Mark let his voice project around the hall. While he certainly didn't have the voice level of Sergeant Carter, he could hold his own in a shouting match. “I'll go next. Hello, all. You call me Agent Vanburen or Marksman. I've been with Project Atlas since the formation of the organization. Some you by now,” he said, glancing at Dolos and Xavier “have already guessed or know my powers. I can nullify each and every one of your powers. Furthermore,” he hesitated, deciding if he wanted to reveal his last power or not, “I can tell that each and every one of you is a metahuman and that, right now, none of you are using your powers. If you're curious for a demonstration, I will be willing to accommodate tomorrow. I look forward to working and training with all you.” He bowed, indicating his speech was finished, and stepped back from the center of the room.
 
“Oh! Oh! I’ll go!” Janice waved her hands excitedly. Then one hand grabbed her forehead as she regretted the movement immediately. “Ow…uhm ,, J-janice Rand. And I’ll try to tough it out. Aroo? Or is it Aroo yah? If you’re gonna sin, you best be prepared to do the penance. But I gotta say they were such tiny sins. Delicious too.” She smiled.


Then she sighed and forced herself to remember why they were supposed to be talking at this particular moment. “Power? I don’t really have any powers. But I was born with prehensile feet and hands, Well, of course I have hands. I have a tail too. My hearing and sense of smell are distinctively beyond human. For example I can smell what people are feeling - anger, fear, and such. But I’m not a bloodhound. Unless the scent is reasonable strong or very recent I won’t be able to track. My hearing … is about like a cat’s. I have superb spatial perception. You guys are gonna have your work cut out for you in the game tomorrow. Even drunk I never miss a shot.


“I’m a polyglot. I learned to speak at age starting with musical notation, rather than English. I rapidly learned English, the languages of the Congo, the Catholic church. I expanded my studies to include several major language groups. And as a missionary I have been picking up various Bantu and Zulu dialects, and some basic Afrikaans. My last few assignments were staged out of the DR Congo into Zambia, Zimbabwe and even Lesotho. So as you might imagine I have been around a few guns. Those are pretty militant regions. And Zambia and Zimbabwe were once known as Rwanda. I guess you guys know enough history to recall the genocidal actions in that country.


“If I seem a little clumsy, I am still nursing a few wounds from a few months back. I got caught up in some terrorist action. You know Sergeant, why don’t you just let them read my file? It would save a lot of time. And I have nothing to be ashamed of. Of course guys, if there is any charges of pie theft in there, in my defense I was a minor. And they were also delicious. and I did penance, so I was forgiven - more than once.”


“Oh yeah, I almost forgot, Voldemort there,” she gestured at Vanburen, “mentioned codenames. “I think I’ll go with Lady Jane. I like Sithandra, but I doubt anyone here would get the reference. Just nothing bigoted like Monkey Girl. It just isn’t funny considering what I’ve been through.”
 
Cedric appreciated the backup from Sarge. it at least let him know he wasn't in a situation he'd disagree with. He instantly had a respect for the man even before the display of his power. He wanted to get to know the man he would be taking orders from, not on a work-based level but on the personal side even just a little. Though not knowing how well that would go over with the higher-ups. Ced was a bit rattled when he heard an outside voice in his head and almost questioned his sanity when he realized he knew the voice. He listened to the voice relaxing when he stated that he couldn't read minds. otherwise he was pretty ok with his first CO.


He was booted out of his thoughts when Marksman took over. At first he was a little intimidated, but figured that if he got into an altercation with Vanburen, he probably deserved it. Cedric paid close attention to his words getting an odd feeling from the way he phrased his statement. He didn't know whether or not he fully trusted Mark, but decided that he along with everyone else on the team deserved a chance to prove himself, even the pretty cheeky fellow that came in with handcuffs on.


Soon it was Janice's turn. He smiled a bit at her playful manner, though admired the way she could make the situation just a little lighter. He was surprised by how much she'd gone through, though knew he shouldn't be. The world is cruel towards things it doesn't understand. He respected the fact that she understood her position as a target for jokes, yet demanded her respect. "Lady Jane huh?


As she finished Cedric decided that now would be a good time for him to speak again. He didn't step forward But stood a little straighter as he addressed the group. "My name is Cedric Kane, my ability allows me to send.....pulses from my body, normally my hands. I'm also a third-degree black belt in Taekwondo, and free-run professionally for a living. At least 'til now." He nodded towards the wrecked punching bag. "That was about a fourth of my physical strength and the rest was a near point-blank blast. Released that one about a foot away then accelerated it to match my punch speed." realizing he probably gave to much info he cut himself off. "As far as codenames go I'd appreciate it if you'd use pulse, it's my parkour team's name, and it pretty much sums up my power. Besides that you can just call me Ced"
 
Dolos had slowly stripped the weapon a second time as Sergeant Carter started to speak aloud. He had actually began stripping it a third time, but he needed to finish things up and didn't want to be rude. At a speed that would make the most seasoned soldier envious, he snapped the pins, springs, slides and other parts into place, almost in a blur and laid the piece down, not having fired a shot. "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," he repeated.


He spun on his heel and made his way out in time to be there to catch the tail end of Xavier getting chastised. Truth be told, he was happy, but not in a spiteful way. Xavier seemed to have his head in the right place, which immediately made Dolos feel somewhat guilty because of his own reasons for being here. Truth be told, he'd like to think he'd have joined this unit if given the opportunity OUTSIDE of the circumstances he was in, but he wasn't sure. Thinking about Brent though, unsure of how he'd feel about his father, he knew that alone would have made the choice easier. He wouldn't want to have been remembered by his son as a thief or con-man.


Dolos didn't consider himself bad per se, he didn't do things because of spite, or hate. He never hurt anyone, let alone killed anyone, well, minus the two men who were going to start killing hostages, but he didn't feel bad about that, not one bit. He didn't live lavishly, even when he came across large scores because most of it went to Brent or his mother or a combination of orphanages he'd come across randomly. He'd never speak of it, not to anyone, but he'd grown up most of his early life in orphanages and houses in Japan.


He was a child when tensions began to mount in Japan and as a child, he remembers a few things about his father. One was the fact that he had a twisted attraction to little boys, especially his own, and then him going away to China and dying in the early staged of what would eventually lead to World War 2. He'd never met his mother and never knew anything about her as in his earliest memories, it was always just him and dad. Dolos was fairly confident his father led to his mother leaving because he had to guard his most coveted possession, and his mother would have been a threat to that.


Not long after, he remembered investigators coming in with military and the conversation was, fairly bluntly, "We know what you're doing behind closed doors," as several of the men looked at Dolos, "and you're alternatives are prison, or the military." Dolos was put in a home, informed a few months later that his father had died, and that was the start of one long trip from place to place, never really having a home.


After that, after WW2 ended, things got harder. Not many people cared to help the Japanese, let alone orphans who were generally looked at as burdens to society, even by their own people. Some homes were nice, some were more like work camps, but he remembered it, and those thoughts are what led him to help when he could, how he could. Recently, he'd never lived in anything but an apartment, he'd never owned a sports car and once he splurged and went all out, buying himself a PS3 and a flatscreen TV, but that was about as ostentatious as Dolos got.


But record, files, and paper, they don't lie. He was a criminal. He'd have been fine with that until Brent was born. He'd met Brent only twice, but the kid changed the changer's entire life.


Mulling over this, he snapped back to the present, listening to the introductions. The most significant thing, based on it never having been experienced before, was Sergeant Carter's voice IN his head. That was not expected and was a new experience for him. He wasn't sure if he liked the man, but he definitely didn't dislike him. He was fairly confident, however, that like most of the people here, Carter wouldn't hold Dolos in a high regard, nor would they be drinking buddies or anything of the sort.


When Mark spoke next, it wasn't very insightful, but Dolos gave him a bit of credit when he could see the hesitation about giving more information than he wanted to, but going ahead with it anyway. That was something that he found admirable.


Lady Jane was next and she was very hard to read. If any one thing about her actions and words screamed out at Dolos, it was the fact that she lacked focus and discipline. Those were the two most important things, but the nice thing was that they could be taught. Sure, it's nice to get on board with people who know something specific, but those too could be taught. He'd rather have someone with discipline and teach them to crack a vault than someone who could crack any vault, but couldn't be left alone or trusted.


Cedric, or Pulse, seemed like somewhat of a wild card. He seemed like a good enough guy, he seemed honest and genuine, but that didn't really mean he'd be good at what he did. In a way, caring and being good CAN get in the way if you cannot look beyond them sometimes. His power intrigued Dolos for sure. Initially, if there was anyone in the group that Dolos felt a possibility to connect with, it was this man.


When Cedric finished, Dolos stepped forward and for once, had a somewhat serious look on his face even though a slight smirk was visible. "Good day. I'm Dolos. I cannot shoot pulses, or do triple axels. I can't see futures or shoot fireballs from my behind." At this point anyone looking closely would be able to see his eye colors changing every few seconds. Not just to normal shades, bright yellows, deep reds and vibrant greens. Even gold.


"My powers are more subtle. I can change my body." At this point, his hair started to gray slightly, giving it a peppered-brown look. "Smaller things like this, I can do fairly quickly, although I can still feel strain. Everything. Hurts!" While emphasizing that point, he thought of Mark and his full disclosure, so he figured he'd go along, hopefully continue the trend.


"I can also do things, things that may not be in your records, like copy your DNA and fingerprints. I can trick retina scanners, or change my blood type. I can also," at this point, he swallowed, waited about 10 seconds with his finger up. When he next spoke his voice changed to that of Chelsea, who they'd all met before, "change my voice to anything I've heard."


In light of even such subtle changes, he started to hurt. As quickly as some of the pain came, it subsided as quickly, but it was something he'd forced himself to come to terms with. Because of this, he had an abnormally high threshold for pain. He took another dozen seconds, then spoke again in his own voice. "I can also change my entire body but this takes several days. It hurts. A lot. Then, while I do not have super human strength, I can do things like change muscle tones, adding more, changing density, but those are not instant. I can also change the all parts of my anatomy, which is a huge plus with the ladies," he took a moment and winked at Janice. "No pun intended."


"Then, I have total recall. I can recall conversations, entire books, actions, anything I've taken in via sensory organs. The degree at which I can recall varies based basically on the degree of conversations coupled with the time I have to focus. I can tell you ever guard position, camera position, vending machine, electrical outlet and passcode used to get into the building. I can tell you that there were 36 fluorescent light bulbs down this last hallway, each uniformed guard has 7 buttons on their shirt and are required to carry a 9mm Glock, and I could go on to give names of the guards and staff that I passed coming in, but, I think you get the point."


"Lastly, I'm here because, as most of you know or deduced, I'm a criminal. I've been a criminal mostly all of my life. I've never really had anyone or anything outside of that because I wanted stuff, and I took it. I'd break into banks, vaults, homes. I'd con people, I'd deceive them. Basically I'm here because I was given a choice, a choice to either be locked away somewhere and not really ever get out, or do this. That was pretty much a no brainer. Considering all that, and two murders under my belt, I'm kind of surprised I was brought on board ."


That last part was an attempt. It was an attempt to maybe get thrown out, maybe be able to get his son back simply by failing. But it was also an attempt at distancing himself. Part of it was that he was used to it. Aside from being with Brent's mother, he kept no friends, no lovers and only got intimate in the most sexual manners, never anything more. Then, it was an attempt to see how much people know, and how much they'd believe offhand. Who'd look more into it? Would Carter, or anyone else tell people that the two "murders" were to stop the two men from executing hostages, and that the two other men in the group who were with Dolos were not harmed?


It was also an attempt to keep people away because he felt guilty for being here, being here for the wrong reasons. Maybe he didn't deserve this second chance...
 
Danny listened to the others talk about their different powers. The different lengths in Janice's arms and legs made sense, especially if she had a certain leverage with them. If she was born with them, it also made sense why she was still able to use them while intoxicated. Sure, she probably isn't as graceful as she would be sober, but it was still pretty amazing what she could do while she was drunk.


She was also intrigued with how Dolos could control his physical features. She didn't really mind the fact that he was a criminal, he had seen a few and interacted with a few during certain cases. It was something she was used to.


"Hello. My name is Danny Fidela. I work for as a forensic pathologist here in New York. But I guess I'm not doing that as of now, obviously," She gave an awkward laugh, then cleared her throat. "My codename is Dryad. I can manipulate plants and shoot vines from my hands." Danny demonstrated by shooting a vine at one of the targets that they were close to, and flicked her wrist so it wrapped around it. She then glanced over at a small tree placed in a corner and pointed at it. As she did so, the tree grew taller and the leaves climbed up the walls. "However, it can be very tiring and if I use the whole plant power thing, then I start to get chronic pain in the palms of my hands and wrists. It gets very tiring for me if I use it for a long amount of time." As she mentioned it, she began to felt sharp pain in her wrists. She began to carefully massage them to try to relax the pain in them. "It's easier to use my powers in the sunlight and certain temperatures. If it's freezing, then my vines aren't as strong and are easier to break. The same goes with hot temperatures and fire. I've also taken a particular interest in boxing for a few years now."


She turned to Sergeant Carter. "Sorry I didn't think to mention that while you all talked to me. If that wasn't in my file, then I apologize."


 
Xavier still frowned. He could understand the civilians - even Cedric with his law enforcement background - not comprehending the most basic OPSEC protocols. The very first rule of security was not to create potential breaches. It didn’t matter what Dolos’ could do. Bringing the man into the base had placed every member - and their families at risk. By placing families at risk it placed every member at risk of becoming problems in and of themselves. For example, just imagine what damage Chameleon could do if her family was suddenly taken hostage. She was a natural cat burglar.


His real concern wasn’t even the group members, but the value of their DNA on the black market. Dolos didn’t even need his powers for that. They were just the ideal ones. And the Sarge’s powers hadn’t lessened Xavier’s concerns about a potential mole. Who better to make contact with a villain organization on the outside concerning Dolos’ progress? Coerce Dolos. Have the Sarge monitor him.


And they didn’t even have to be villains. They could as easily be fanatical members of a single nation - like the USA - wanting to maintain military supremacy. Now that idea was disheartening. The USA he had left behind in its energy crisis of the 70’s was nothing like the new one.


Xavier pulled a thin piece of plastic from a pocket a few inches wide and about 6 inches long. He then began sliding a center strip back and forth. Most people under the age of 50 would likely never have used one. It was a very modern version of a slide rule. He found that it was easier and quicker to use than a calculator - especially in Null Time where electronics didn’t function so well. After fidgeting with it for several seconds he slid it away.


When it came time for his turn - he preferred last - he looked up. “I’ll need a few seconds. If someone would do a 1000 count … maybe to 10? Be right back.” And with that he vanished … to reappear about 3 seconds later breathing a little harder than usual.


He had changed from his usual black jeans and T shirt into a black spandex type outfit with occasional reinforced loops. He wore a matching set of gloves and booties. His eyes were covered with fishlike goggles.





“Took care of my request for a meeting while I was at it.” He locked eyes in Carter and smiled thinly. Then he turned back to the group. “Snapshot. And I live in four dimensions. I perceive the 5th and can likely move in it. Black belt, trained in surveillance, B&E. Studying criminal forensics, temporal physics. I’ve never set foot in a classroom, save for what passes for classes here, which has been more like OJT.


“I can’t say that I was a criminal. I was never formally charged. I didn’t rob banks. I robbed crack houses, illegal arms dealers, and pimps - and never enough they would notice right away. The rest, was either food or textbooks. I’m self taught. The only incidents recorded was food - and I was a minor with no parents - so they let it drop.”


Xavier cocked his head to one side and glanced over again at Dolos. “Not a bad imitation of the Corporal? Can you do Marksman there? Maybe see if you can pull off his walk too? I’d kinda like him to hear how funny he sounds at times.”
 
"Hello. Diana Chmerkovski, pleasure to meet you."


Ivan almost toppled over onto the ground when he felt a tap on his shoulder and the voice of the greetings, all while he was fairly certain no-one was close enough behind him to do that. He regained balance and turned around just in time to witness the human figure, coated in a dark, fullbody suit with a rubber-like texture, emerge from apparent nothingness.


“Whoah whoah. You were standing there all the time?” He said, surprised, while a bit incoherently pulling his hand that he just shoved into his pocket back out for the handshake, "yes. Hi." Meanwhile he eyed the suit she was wearing - a well-fitting, connected body of fabric that covered everything but her head. It felt significantly less rubber-y to the touch than it appeared, as he noticed through the handshake. It was more surprising to him that the suit could change colour than the person could, given the word that this was a crew consisted mainly of metahumans. He didn’t know they had technology capable of doing that yet - or was it the metahuman’s power to also change the appearance of external materials that are in contact with her?


Impressive, either way.


His fascination was then briefly interrupted because he almost choked himself attempting to hold back a laugh or a snort - he couldn’t tell which - at Xavier’s remark of a whole body condom.


Introductions followed. Ivan listened as each of them and took mental notes at the meantime, only hoping he’d be able to remember them later on.


Mark, Marksman. Mark’s power sounded specifically intriguing, considering it seems to work with all sorts of powers while he was under the conception that every metahuman mutation takes a very different path in terms of mechanisms of realizing its effects. The term ‘monkey girl’(and the reminder that it was probably someone’s berserk button) was written deeper in Ivan’s memory than anything else at the moment, considering the frequency it showed up in conversation through the last number of minutes. Nothing else from Janice’s speech was comprehensible to him expect the long string of language names.


Cedric Kane, Ced, “pulse” - keep away when he’s punching something, Ivan noted. Dolos, shapeshifter with eidetic memory, ex-criminal. Danny, Dyriad - so she was the agrokinetic.


And then there was Xavier. Ivan already liked him. He was curious about what his mutation was, yet did not at all expect him to be able of jumping around in time. Honestly, though, he looked better in jeans and a t-shirt. And he used...a slide rule?


Vastly peculiar.


Only then did Ivan also realize he had yet to do his own introduction, and it was that bit scary, to say, being last, without no apparent reason. He stuck his tongue out for a second, thinking, and then proceeded.


“Ivan Nathaniel Vanderhoff.” Ivan said. Ivan, in this sense, was the Ivan that had walked forward closer to the center of the circle. He then looked back at his other self, the one standing at the edge of the group, who continued, “Space part of the spacetime continuum.” Another image of himself tilted back to make itself visible, while its lower body remained merged with its father copy - it was, in a way, reminiscent of how an image would have trailing multiplications of itself when a video did not load properly. He gave a smile at the rest of the crew - perhaps Xavier in particular? before it dissolved back into the other image. “Self duplication through space manipulation. Yes, we are all real.” Ivan - the other Ivan - noted as he took a few steps back until there remained but one of him.


“Self-proclaimed genius, black belt in procrastination," - he found that reference necessary because everyone here seemed to be a belt at something - “ - a huge fan of life, the universe, and everything.” He concluded his little information bit with the gesture of the tip of a hat that he was not wearing. Codename, “Professor Schrödinger, reporting for duty.”


He stepped back into place, forcing a grin onto his face.


That probably turned out alright?
 
As Diana turned her attention to the rest of the group, she made a conscious effort to match code-names with names and names with faces. Although every ability was miraculous within itself, there were a few team members in particular that stood out to her; Snapshot, Dolos, and Schrödinger.


In Diana's mind, those three and herself could be categorized as nearly a separate unit altogether. Unlike most of the others, their powers weren't directly tied to violence towards an enemy. If any proof was needed, one could simply take a look around. They hadn't been the ones leading the destruction of the targets and dummies. Instead, they'd hung back or turned their attentions elsewhere.


Though impressed, her feelings towards each individual varied. Snapshot's cockiness had chewed at her nerves a bit, rattling off his skills like this was some type of "my-horse-is-bigger-than-your-horse" charade. Alright, maybe she was being a little harsh there, but something about the way he performed his little demonstration annoyed her. Perhaps it was the idea that he'd taken great lengths to make the point that he was no rookie. Then there was Dolos, who she wasn't quite sure she'd made up her mind about yet. Although, his abilities might have been the ones to impress her the most. Schrödinger, or Ivan, immediately earned points with her simply because of his name. Of course, just because his parents chose to name him Ivan didn't necessarily mean his heritage was one from near her childhood home, but it was refreshing, nonetheless.


Lost in her own thoughts, it took Diana a moment before she realized she should take her turn as well. Stepping forward a bit, she let a polite smile slip over her lips as she began to speak. "I am Diana Chmerkovski, political analyst and news panelist. My primary power is my ability to completely change the color of my body." Purely out of habit, her accented voice took on the tone she often used on the air; just pleasant enough to please the bosses but clear and direct, no-nonsense.


"I can't tell you the exact science of how it all works. If I knew, I would. At my will, I can change not only my skin but my nails, eyes, hair, and everything in between to any color I wish. This, of course, is most beneficial for blending in with my surroundings, hence my chosen code-name, Chameleon." Here Diana paused and raised her right arm from her side. As if on cue, a stripe of vibrant orange appeared across her wrist followed by a stripe of green and another of blue and so on until her entire arm was displaying several different hues.


"Unfortunately, this ability only applies to my body. If I wish to change the color of anything else, such as my clothing, it must be perfectly warmed to my body heat. I assume the equal temperature somewhat fools the cells that control the pigments into thinking the object is a part of my body as well. This suit ensures that I am able to do that, capturing and reaching my body temperature in a little under three minutes." The colors on Diana's arm fade.


"A unique chemical compound in my hands and feet allows me to stick to and climb flat surfaces for a few minutes at a time and my tongue grants me with an increased sense of smell, similar to a reptile." With that, Diana thought she'd pretty well covered the bases. Giving a small nod, she stepped back.
 
Janice had been listening as one after another of the team members spoke about combat abilities. It hadn’t even dawned on her to mention hers. Physicals skills came to her so easily she tended to overlook them. But her story was at least a little funny. And people were getting so serious.





“I do a little martial arts.” This was a white lie. Her file said Black belt 3rd dan, specializing in Monkey Fu technique, with a black belt in jiu jitsu. The latter was probably overestimated. “Mom hired this Shaolin guy to teach me. Well, I had been having a bad day and was breaking boards - badly. Some guy I knew … we had broke up.” Her face darkened a little. “So … Master Pu asked me what the boards had ever done to me. I told them they looked like a boy I knew. You’d have to meet Pu. It was hard to stay mad at him. So he got me a few more boards and encouraged me - stopping me before I got started again. Then he showed me how to do it right. Or so I thought. Pu liked to answer questions with questions a lot. But he usually made his point.


“Eventually he started showing me a lot of different styles and asked which one I liked.” She flushed a little. “Yeah … Monkey Fu. I learned Drunken Monkey Fu too … and I didn’t have to get drunk for it either. Truth though, the technique was perfect for my body.”
 
Carter folded his arms across his chest as he watched each person detail their abilities and what they preferred to be called. There were few surprises in store for him in the information, but how each person presented himself - or herself, as the case may be - told him much that wasn’t in the files. Vanburen was cocky but didn’t hold back information from the team. He was trying. Janice seemed like she had a good sense of humor, although it was difficult to tell how much of that was the alcohol loosening her up. Carter’s eyebrows lifted slightly when she suggested showing the team her file, but he said nothing. He nodded at the end of her little speech, noting that she thought of herself first by her past and not her physical abilities. He’d make a note about her preferred code name in her file later. Then Cedric made his intention to speak known through body language. The sergeant turned in his direction at the cue. Despite Cedric’s gruff exchange with Vanburen earlier, the man seemed to have a level head on his shoulders. He was polite and respectful to everyone. From the look of things, they would need as many cool heads as they could manage.


Then there was Dolos. Carter still wasn’t sure what to make of him or his placement in the program. He had been cleared by two separate psychologists. Xavier clearly had an issue with the man, which would cause a major issue if it persisted. He detailed his abilities, including his ability for total recall, which was not so detailed in his file. Carter made a point of not looking at Xavier or Vanburen when that information was disclosed. He would have to have his talk with Dolos sooner rather than later.


Danny’s introduction drew him out of his thoughts. She seemed like a sweet girl - or nice woman, as the equality training would have him correct himself - and her apology at the end earned her a small smile and nod from the sergeant. It was in her file, but at least the team was starting off with an attempt at full disclosure. It was a start.


Xavier’s introduction stood out, not just because of the fish like goggles, but because of the obvious display of power. If he truly did have a conversation with Corporal Tyler in the three seconds he was gone, then he was more than comfortable using - and abusing - his power throughout the facility. Then again, others were doing small demonstrations, following their sergeant’s lead. The boy’s description of his abilities sounded like an application for a scholarship program - one he wouldn’t need because he was self-taught in everything. Ah, youth. His request at the end earned a small wry smile from the sergeant, but before Dolos could respond the other introductions continued.


If Xavier was the serious student, Ivan - or rather the multiple instances of Ivan - served as the antithesis in the form of casual statements. Carter wasn’t sure of this one, either. He might be useful, but it would depend on the mission. And something about him gave the impression that every one of his copies might wander off if he spotted something too shiny. Hopefully that wasn’t the case.


Finally, Diana spoke up, using standard American dialect to detail her abilities, along with a demonstration. She came across as the consummate professional, prompting him to wonder how she would handle herself when they faced danger. He almost spoke up then, but Janice stepped forward again to add to her list of skills. He couldn’t help his amusement at the fact that she knew Drunken Monkey Fu. His tone held humor when he responded, “It’ll come in handy, I’ve no doubt, Lady Jane.”


He glanced at the clock; it was a quarter to noon. It was a start. “We’ll get to know each other much better over the next few days, and you’ll have a chance to exercise your abilities and see how they interact.” He glanced sidelong at Pulse with a minute smile, “I just ask that you remember we’re below ground.” He was confident the man understood his abilities, but it wouldn’t do to bring the building down around them. Then he looked to a couple of others, “Dryad, we’ve arranged for grow lights to be available, should you want to stay here. And Schrödinger, we only have one room for you now;” he looked between the three Ivans, suppressing the ludicrous feeling that came with addressing a man in triplicate, “if you need more, talk to me.”


Then he addressed the larger group. “I’m sure some of you are hungry. You’re dismissed to go sample the mess hall’s infamous nourishment. There are signs outside, but mostly you can follow the smell. Meet back here at 13:00, and we’ll arrange tours of the facility and a chance to work in small teams.”


He turned to face Dolos. “You’re with me. But before we go, care to satisfy Snapshot’s curiosity?” He would understand completely if the man refused the request. Hell, he half expected him to. But he also thought the boy had a point to prove and nothing short of a discharge or having his curiosity satisfied was going to deter him from his quest.


The meeting with Drexler was going to be interesting, to say the least.
 
Dolos listened to the rest of the introductions, taking notes and putting the group together in his head almost like puzzle pieces. He tried to gauge what pieces would fit together, which wouldn't and maybe even if some would fit together with a little bit of pushing.


He was shook from his thoughts as people continued and then, eventually, Xavier asked him to mimic the voice of Marksman. He smirked, taking a moment to think, but the several other members continued, and that was followed by Sergeant Carter closing things out. He couldn't help but appreciate the Sergeant's casual humor in regarding Ivan's potential need for 3 rooms, but he was completely caught off guard when Carter asked him to imitate Mark. He was so caught off guard in fact, that the part where he was instructed to go with Carter was almost missed entirely. He shook his head and cocked it up slightly. He was unsure if this was some test, or simply a move to build some form of unit friendliness and morale.


"I normally don't take requests, but..." He took a deep breath and waited several seconds before saying "You heard the CO, get up and fall in! It's time for some standard issued chow! Time to eat, then time to train. FULL BELLIES WIN WARS NOW GO GO GO!"


The voice was spot on but the dialogue was improvised based on his dialogue earlier from when Carter had dismissed them to the gym to train. And, he brought it up a notch, adding a bit of "Full Metal Jacket" feel to it. "I could start shooting rounds into the floor at your feet to get you going, but that may be a bit overboard," he said in his normal voice. "And normally I charge for this kind of thing, people."


At this point, he figured he was done playing with his powers and showing off. His body wasn't really hurting or anything, but he could feel the affects of doing so much, so soon and he didn't want to spend the day with headaches or fatigued if it wasn't totally necessary. As it was, he'd most likely require a lot of water, food and ibuprofen.


Then without another word, he looked at Carter and gave a nod, wondering what exactly was in store for him. Most likely a wrist slap, or some warning to keep things toned down, or whatever. 'Can't wait,' he thought.
 
Xavier nodded. That had been plenty enough to record. Although part of him tensed a little as it struck him that there had been enough sounds just in that short demonstration for a full voice analysis. And he had no way to know if that was by design or a coincidence. He couldn’t help but smile behind his mask. Was he giving the man too much credit?


Plan for the worst; hope for the best.


Xavier actually laughed a little. “Thanks. I just might make that a ring tone - or my wake up alarm. It’s always good if you can start your day with a laugh. I don’t suppose you could manage a little Jim Nabor?” He cocked his head at the Sarge then back at Dolos. “Mayybee not a good idea. I’m in enough hot water already. My fault - and I’ll face that music later. I really miss that show. Sucks that they cancelled it. I wonder if anyone here even remembers who Gomer Pyle was.”


Xavier gave the Sarge a nod. “I have a lot of things to get done by 1300.” He hesitated for a moment in case the sergeant wanted to say anything now. But he suspected otherwise. Then he vanished yet again.


His next stop was the Corporal’s desk. Odds were she hadn’t even had time to make his appointment yet. Not wanting to delay the group introductions he’d submitted his request in writing and left it on her desk. He’d done everything in hypertime so people weren’t standing around and waiting on him.


Xavier barely allowed himself time to catch his breath. He pulled the tiny disk out of his camcorder and offered it to the corporal. “There won’t be any images. I had the microcam stowed. But I need you to run a voiceprint and tell me if you can ID the speaker. Don’t rely on what your ears tell you. If I am right, the voiceprint won’t be a match for who it sounds like. Dolos. He imitated you in the gym. I couldn’t tell the difference. And I didn’t think to record it. But if you have any security recordings … you may want to compare to your own voice. If his imitation of you is a match, then we have a security issue the Colonel needs to be aware of ASAP.


“If I am right in both instances, Dolos is using DNA he’s acquired from everyone he’s touched - including the Sergeant. I hope I’m wrong. The guy has some amazing abilities. But I can’t ignore what I see. I keep hearing that ‘precautions have been taken. It’s a calculated risk.’ I just don’t believe the precautions were sufficient. And that could have been handled by .. uhm .. a suggestion I made earlier.” Xavier did NOT want to discuss condoms in front of the Corporal.
 
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Erica updated Project Atlas with a new update entry:


Added "Additional Info" area to RP Overview

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Dolos’ impression sounded just like Vanburen, although the words were a caricature. Carter converted the urge to laugh to a dry smile and watched the others’ reactions - especially Vanburen’s. Humor could be an excellent bonding tool, and Dolos was funny, in his own way. Unfotunately, that didn’t make him a viable team member. In fact, Carter wasn’t sure exactly how the Project intended Dolos to be used in a team setting at all. He would make an excellent infiltrator - if he could be trusted.


And therein lay the rub.


Xavier laughed, which might have been a good first step. Then he mentioned the actor that played Gomer Pyle in the ‘60s show by the same name. Carter looked at the young Agent curiously at that. It was easy to forget that Xavier was a man out of time. Mikael didn’t remember the show, but he’d seen reruns. And since his promotion to sergeant, he’d heard enough references from the older officers to make the jokes old. It was the only reason he hoped to be promoted soon.


Snapshot seemed ready to go about his plan to save the Project. And Carter had no doubt that was why he had asked for the performance from Dolos. The man’s specialty was recording others. While he could make an educated guess on how he intended to use such a recording, he would let it play out. When Xavier said he had “lots of things to get done”, Carter just nodded in return. “Don’t forget to get some chow.” Then Xavier was gone.


Carter turned toward Dolos and nodded as he stepped out of the room, leaving the others to find their way to the mess hall or otherwise occupy themselves. He paused briefly to look at Janice. When would she need a place to rest up? He put it on his mental list of things to take care of. Chat with Dolos; give the Colonel a heads-up; arrange someone to point out Lady Jane’s quarters to her, just in case. And oh, yeah, figure out what the hell to do with the team. His original planned exercises might need to be scrapped all together. He hated traditional team building exercises, but they might be needed in this case.


He led Dolos back down the hall to the conference rooms, selecting a smaller one that was little more than a ten by ten closet: its furnishings consisted of a table with four chairs and a smart board on one wall that was currently dark. He shut the door and remained standing. The uniform and his rank would color any conversation toward a set of orders. “We need to set a few ground rules. I’m sure you’re not surprised. Nor do I expect the team’s suspicion escaped you.” Calling it the team’s suspicion was generous, but he figured Dolos would understand that it wasn’t Carter’s role to call out other team members in front of him. And stating frankly that the man had to earn Carter’s personal trust had already been established in his mind.


He pulled a badge out of his pocket with Dolos’ picture on the front. “This will give you access to the appropriate areas of the facility. It will also alert us if you try to leave. You will keep it with you at all times, including on missions unless I tell you otherwise. I don’t care where to carry it on your person, but if you’re found without it, you will return to prison. And I’ll be honest, it will probably be a Pit.” He hated the slang term for metahuman holding facilities, but it had stuck years ago after Morena’s trial. Granted, it did echo with enough ominous undertones to get his point across today. The badge was a secondary check and a test of his willingness to work with the program. It would be checked against the nanites that were already in Dolos’ system, delivered by the agents sent to pick him up at the jail. The bug they assembled into was much more subtle, although they still weren’t clear if Dolos would eventually detect it given his abilities.


He handed over the badge. “And lastly, you will not go near any terminal or smart board in the facility.” Dolos’ file didn’t indicate that he was proficient in computers, but he clearly knew how to bypass security systems. “I’d also advise against testing out the systems here.” Carter had seen what could happen when someone accidentally triggered the security systems at the entrance to the Luxembourg office with a faulty badge; it hadn’t been pretty. And where Dolos was concerned, little leeway would be given.


He took an audible breath. “Now that the requisite threats have been delivered - and I’m trusting received - I’m willing to answer serious questions.”

~ * ^ * ~

​



Corporal Chelsea Tyler was at her desk when she saw Xavier approaching. She didn’t blink an eye at his goggles or outfit. They had all kinds at the Project. But she did look up, for she had gotten his note earlier. She donned a polite smile. “Agent Thomas. Your…”


The young man interrupted her, handing over a camcorder data disk. She took it carefully, both eyebrows lifting toward the ceiling as she did. He spoke quickly, without so much as a “Sir” or “Ma’am”, issuing orders to her. It wasn’t the first time it had happened with other Agents. Perhaps it came with the territory, given that she was effectively the Colonel’s administrative assistant in so many ways. She understood it and even tolerated it from some, but that didn’t mean the behavior didn’t irk her.


They had known about Dolos’ abilities, and she had been warned about him being able to imitate her even though she was careful not to touch him when escorting him inside the building. It was the reason why they all had to have additional security protocols in place to access any file now. They were still rolling it out to the enlisted personnel, but all the officers were already following the new procedure. Frankly, she considered Dolos a thorn in her side because now it took that much longer to get anything done. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Snapshot’s first-hand account helped her realize the difference between theoretically knowing the man could imitate her and hearing first-hand that someone couldn’t tell the difference between her and the imposter.


It was downright creepy.


She looked at the disk, then back to Xavier. “Shall I assume your request,” she emphasized the word and left it at that, “for a voice print match to be run has to do with your meeting with the Colonel?” While it seemed redundant, it wasn’t her place to say so; the Colonel would decide how much to disclose. But she would run the test. They only had historical information and hypothetical guesses about Dolos’ abilities. The data Snapshot had taken it upon him to collect would tell them how good - and how dangerous - the man was.
 
To say Mark was angry would be understatement. It wasn't a visible anger, but more so a inner rage. Mark was pissed at Xavier. It wasn't the showboating the Xavier put on, it was the simple reference that Janice had made when talking about her codename. She specifically referenced that Mark had come up with a codename. A codename he had shared with no one. A codename that had only been written on the file that Mark had in his possession. It was clear to see what had happened: Xavier had read Mark's files. However, he didn't just read Mark's files' but divulged classified information to others who were not appropriated access. There was a reason only Carter and Mark had seen the files, not Xavier. The recent few minutes had only served to reinforce Xavier's sudden lack of respect and undisciplined conduct in his eyes. He stowed away the anger, saving it for another time.


As the introductions were coming to a close, Mark was more pondering what he was going to eat for lunch when he was surprised by the sudden sound of his own voice. There was no denying Dolos' skill and talents. Apparently, the man had humor to boot. Mark simply smiled at the impression. When Dolos remarked that he normally charged for such a performance, Mark said "For that, I'll buy you a drink tonight." While Mark still had his doubts about Dolos, he noted that Dolos was the lone wolf of the group. If the team was going to come together, Mark was going to have to bridge that gap of isolation and draw him out. It's not like Xavier is going to try that, he humorously thought. If anything, Xavier seemed determined to send the man on a one way trip to the Pit.


Turning to the others, he commented "Well, that was some lovely heart to heart, but I, for one, would like to fill up on some food before we begin anew. I'll lead the way to the food court if anyone is going as, despite what Carter says, it is easy to get lost in here. Also, since none of you have badges yet, I'll buy." Of course, Mark didn't tell them that all food provided was free, always, but it was the gesture that counted. "Just make sure you don't waste my money on the pizza. That's one thing you don't want to ever taste."
 
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Dolos hadn't dealt with anything like this before, anything in terms of dealing with guilt and how to cope with it, bite down and hide it and not show it. The only thing he had going for him is decades of acting, taking on roles and keeping poker faces. Sure he'd robbed banks and people, he stole, but he never did so indiscriminately, and he never hurt anyone. And he could also say that most of what he got went to a good cause. It was having to lie.


It wasn't so much his ability to lie as the fact that he was doing it. When Sergeant Carter started, a mix of emotions went through Dolos. He was impressed by the honesty but he also found himself angry. He knew his anger wasn't rational, but being the one watched, babysat and not trusted in this group kind of stung.


Mainly because the fact that didn't trust him was merited 100%.


So with the feelings of appreciation of honesty, the anger, the fun of camaraderie, there was the feeling of shame. And that seemed to distort everything else he felt.


He should have been happy with the news and at the break he got, and also at the fact that in spite of everything, Carter and the others we willing to trust him. But instead, the irrational anger got the best of him and he said quietly, but somewhat caustically, "well damn, I hope there isn't a terminal or computer on the way to the toilet."


He took a breath and threw his hands up. "I just don't understand. Why me? Is my father Captain America and my mother, shit I dunno. Black Widow? Wonderwoman maybe? Do you know something about me that I don't? None of you trust me. I wouldn't either most likely. I've never done anything legit. I don't like...people, not beyond making them laugh. You'd be better off throwing me in a pit, really. What am I going to do, copy my way into some bad guy stronghold and open up the gates for you, like some criminal, meta, loser version of a Trojan Horse? And don't bullshit me, because most, if not all of the team thinks the same thing. And I know you do to."


He sighed and looked at the desk, saying with nothing but pure honesty, "it would be better to lock me in a damned cell, keep me close that way."


He looked up then and held Carter's gaze and asked, "tell me right now. What do you expect of me. If I cannot meet those expectations, I'll tell you right now and we can figure out how to remedy this."
 
Danny continued to listen to Diana's introduction. She seemed interesting, but was obviously one of the quieter ones in the group. Her voice was peaceful in a way, though, and made Danny feel relaxed. Her statement was short, yet pithy and straight to the point. Danny assumed that she would begin to talk once they got to know each other later.


When Danny turned around, she saw Dolos impersonate the CO. Well, it wasn't impersonation. It was his powers and it was spot on and completely flawless. She chuckled and shook her head as he yelled at us to eat food because "Full bellies win wars!"


"I am slightly hungry..." She then turned to Vanburen and began to follow him. "Thanks for buying. It wasn't necessary you know, I have money." Danny suggested. She didn't mind that he was paying, but it didn't hurt to offer.


Danny was ready to at least try to know the team better. Without knowing them at all, it would be strange to be do a mission with them. Danny wasn't sure she quite trusted everyone yet. It would definitely be difficult to start a mission within three days - two and a half now.


Danny took a water bottle out of her bag and chugged until the only thing left were little water beads. "Hey Janice, you want some water? You're going to have a nasty hangover, especially if you're this drunk. It should at least keep you hydrated so you're headache won't be too bad." She grabbed another water bottle out of her purse and handed it to her.
 
Janice smiled broadly and accepted the water. “Really? Thanks. I didn’t know that. It’s been about 10 years since I got drunk last. And they let me suffer.” She set the water down on her plate, which was now heaped with 5 fruit drinks, three of which were grape. She had piled on a large spinach salad, an entire bunch of bananas, 2 oranges, a bowl of stewed tomatoes and okra, and some grilled fish. She had sniffed at it, clearly a little disappointed, but shrugged and taken it anyways. It was the closest thing to Congolese food she was likely to find.





“You know what this place needs - badly? A garden. You know what I mean … like a jungle. It would make for a much better living quarters. And it wouldn’t stink so bad. All this plaster, rugs, and glue are giving me a headache. I suppose I’ll get used to it. I’ve just never much cared for enclosed spaces. Too much like a cage. Whoever came up with this project didn’t think much about the individual member needs. We’ll have to work on that.”


She thought about the situation with Dolos for a moment. She didn’t trust the man one bit. Her first impression was a two-faced man. His personality shifted from moment to moment. A man like that had no friends. Rather he had people who thought he was their friend. The imitation of Vanburen was pretty good. Cute act. But that’s all it was. The one question that nagged at the back of her mind was - if he was that good, how did he get caught? Maybe she would ask later. For now, she let the matter go.


Xavier had initially struck her as an ordinary young man, kinda cute. The look he had given Danny was one of pure lust. She could smell his attraction to the woman, even if she was blind to it. The goofy “hi” had been the final giveaway. But the arrival of Dolos had provoked a defensive response not unlike male chimps protecting their family - minus the anger. His head had never dropped. His shoulders had remained back, not rolled forward as if ready for a fight.





“Humans aren’t much different from chimps.” She specifically looked at Mark and grinned. “Just taller and less hair. You’d make a pretty ugly chimp. My mother would have tossed you out of the tree … sir!” She gave a mock salute. “Humans and chimp males are especially similar. They both stand up and try to see who is taller and can make the most noise. Whoever yells loudest and bites the hardest usually wins. The real difference is that humans can forgive and let the beaten male back into the tribe. Guess we’ll see if we’ve evolved any at all - or if we are all just hairless chimps.”
 
“Yes M- … uhm … C-correct.” Xavier had caught Tyler’s emphasis on the word request. “Uhm .. what do I call you? Back the Foundation I got chewed out for calling a sergeant Sir. Because he “worked” for a living. In the US military they look at you like you just got off the bus if you call a Private of Corporal, Sir. If it’s a Sergeant you get called to attention and yelled at about the whole working for a living thing. And I still don’t know whether to call you Sir or Ma’am. I mean when I was growing up women weren’t really in the military. I mean they were, but you know, not to fight. They mostly did USO type stuff in Vietnam.”


Xavier was glad he was wearing his mask. “Now … I have girls on the team and I am trying to deal with that. It’s … uhm … going to take a little getting used to. But one thing I really won’t get used to is the sort of disrespect Dolos was dishing out. That … “ Xavier paused. “I’ll call you Ma’am I guess. And if you chew me out for that, I can live with it. I did sort of forget my manners though. It’s just this whole Dolos mess. Has me more rattled than I like to admit.


“I’m going to get chewed out pretty bad later, so if you see me walking around with no .. uhm .. posterior … that’s my fault. Let’s see, I’ve managed to get Vanburen, Carter, the Colonel and you all mad. Team has no idea what to make of me - and those who think they do probably have it wrong.”


He straightened suddenly. “And you probably have work to do and can’t just make more time like I can.”


++++++++++


He had finished off his 2nd plate of food by the time the rest of the group had caught up at the Mess Hall. He had finally broken into his stash of Boost O2 and consumed part of a 22 oz bottle. It was something he normally reserved for missions, though he typically carried a six pack of 4 oz cans for that.


Xavier didn’t have to be a mind reader to sense Mark’s animosity toward him at the moment. He didn’t blame the man. He had violated a trust. But then Xavier hadn’t done so without thought. He shoved the thoughts aside. Let Mark stew. He’d have his say at 2000 hours.
 
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