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Shining Example (WORM ORIGIN QUEST)

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0.3: The Girl who can be moved
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    • So, I promised this a bit ago, and I shall deliver. The next chapter is being a bit of a problem child in my head, sorry it's taking a while.

    But here you are, the narrative history of Rebecca Costa-Brown.



    Name: Rebecca Costa-Brown
    Age: 17
    Height: 5'7
    Occupation: Student (Former), Cauldron Enforcer (Current)


    Powers: Superhuman Strength, Advanced Cognition, flight.

    Rebecca can fly faster than the eye can see, display levels of strength that no normal human can ever hope to achieve, and her memory is perfect. Any event that she has seen is recorded and can be recalled at a moment's notice.

    History: In 1969, a normal girl was born to normal parents. A single child to parents who loved her with all their hearts. It was a recipe for a simple childhood, devoid of hardship and filled with memories that a little girl would cherish forever. And she did. Rebecca loved everyday with her parents, and they showed that love to her everyday.

    However, while they loved her, their love for one another was not as strong.

    One day, after school, Rebecca walked in to her mother screaming at her father. She called him a faithless bastard. She didn't know what that meant, but she knew the pain in her mother's eyes when she saw it. She watched as her mother threw her father out of the house, and slam the door behind him.

    After that, her mother told her not to open the door for him anymore.

    She didn't know why her mother was angry, but she followed instructions like a good daughter would. After that day, Rebecca noticed her mother starting to be more... open to men other than her father. She would tell Rebecca that she was going on dates, that she wasn't old enough to understand. Her mother took on one date after another, no matter how kind they might have been to her or Rebecca.

    This went on for a while, so Rebecca ignored it.

    Then, a few years later, she got a call from her father. She had a sister now, but, not a real sister. The term she found described the girl as her half sister. He tried to get her to agree to a meeting. He sounded so happy that he was with her. He sounded so happy with what he had.

    Her name was Rachel.... Rachel Brown.

    Rebecca asked her mother, but she wouldn't let her go meet her. She tried for what felt like a hundred times, but the answer was always the same.

    She got letters from her sister every time her birthday came around. She would write her, telling about how nice her mother was, and how many gifts that her father had given her. All the while, her mother finally found someone to keep around. His name was Max, and he was kind enough to Rebecca.

    For a time, the three of them were a family. For a time, her mother would see something other than her father when she looked at her.

    It was the happiest time of her life.

    Then, she got a half brother. And Rebecca started seeing less and less of her mother and stepfather. It was because they had to keep track of her little brother, she was old enough to take care of herself.

    Once again, her mother didn't want to look at her anymore, her first daughter. She didn't want to be forgotten, so she pushed herself. She studied harder, she worked harder. But it didn't matter.

    Neither of them noticed when she came home from school with perfect grades.

    Neither of them noticed when she qualified for state in the track team.

    She called her father, but he was too busy with work or his family.

    No matter what she did, neither family noticed. They said they cared about her, but she had trouble believing that.

    But when she collapsed on the floor one day, they noticed. When she was dragged to the hospital, they noticed. And when they were told that she had cancer, they finally cried for her.

    Rebecca didn't want them to cry. They didn't need to cry over her. So she took her books, and she studied. She buried herself in books, and smiled when they came to visit her. She never let herself look weak, she never let herself look like something worth forgetting.

    But, eventually, they stopped coming as regularliy as they once did.

    Her brother was growing up, so it was understandable. In that hospital room, she vowed to get through this, to live beyond this sickness. So she asked the doctors about her condition, the ins and outs of it all so that she could have hope that she could survive.

    Only, they didn't give her hope.

    She never got better, she was only getting worse and worse everyday. And to make it worse, the doctors only lied to her. They said it was going to get better, but it never did. It hurt, every time she had to hear that she was getting better, when everyone knew that she wasn't.

    They didn't care that it was hurting her.

    They didn't do anything to make her feel any better.

    In that room, Rebecca Costa-Brown wanted to die. Save the doctors the trouble of having to talk to her everyday. Save her family, from pretending that she was still their daughter.

    But she didn't die, she kept on living through a month of that hell. She kept on living, until she was told that she was getting a neighbor in the intensive care unit. He was just as old as her, but that just made her sadder. Someone else didn't need to go through this. She might have cried for him, but she was done crying for anyone.

    Then, when she least expected it, he came into her room. He was a shaking, nervous boy who barely managed to introduce himself. Alex Everett, an interesting name. He talked to her about what it was going to be like living here, about his parents, and what their lives were like. It must has lasted two hours, but Rebecca didn't mind.

    It was the first conversation that didn't hurt.

    He left, and Rebecca figured that was all that was needed. But, he came back the next day. And the next, and the next. Soon, she couldn't remember what a day in the hospital was like without Alex coming to visit her. His hair fell off, his skin turned pale, and he started getting weaker and weaker. But he never stopped coming, he never stopped looking at her like a friend, instead of someone that needed to be pitied.

    If that wasn't enough, he brought his family along with him sometimes. Clint, the older brother, wise and caring to her like she was his own sister. Danah, kind and full of ideas. She would always give Rebecca little secrets to boss Alex around, and books, piles of them. Slowly, the idea of keeping up her grades fell back in her mind. She didn't need grades, she needed to read the books that were so kindly delivered to her. She had to talk to the boy who was kinder than anyone else. The boy who helped her hope again.

    The boy who she fell for.


    One day, Rebecca was visited by a woman who called herself Doctor Mother. She said she could cure her, that she could live beyond these walls if she was willing to work for her. At first, she didn't want to trust her. It wasn't the first time that a doctor had lied to her.

    But when she heard that Alex had taken the promise, she relented.

    She reached out, and grabbed the red vial. It was like drinking solid rock, but Rebecca managed for force it down her throat. Nothing happened at first, but then, she fell back on her pillow, and she saw nothing more. When she woke up again, her hair had grown back, and she could run like she could in her prime.

    She met with Doctor Mother, and she was told where she was. Cauldron, a place dedicated to saving the world against people with powers. People like her. When she first flew, Rebecca didn't leave her room for a day. She was scared, she didn't know what to do.

    Then, the Deputy Director showed herself. She talked to Rebecca about her place, her position, her responsibility. She could be a hero, someone that was loved by everyone in the world.

    And if that wasn't enough, she was told her best friend was only a few doors down. She couldn't visit him, no matter how much she wanted to. Contessa gave her a job, a position in Cauldron, and Rebecca found herself trying to distract herself just like she tried to distract herself in that hospital room.

    A day turned into a week.

    A week turned into a month.

    And a single month turned to just another couple of days working in Cauldron.

    In that time, Rebecca trained. She traveled the world with Contessa and Doctor Mother. She met others like her under Cauldron's care. But during all that time, she never even thought of telling her family where she was. It was poetic, in a way. She forgot her family, the family that tried it's hardest to forget her.
     
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    1.8: Someone Worth Remembering
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    • You feel everything in the room shift at the question, the gravitation fields of everything that wasn't bolted down responding to your surprise.

    What are you?

    For a second, you're back in the hospital room. Doctor Mother is sitting next to you, waiting for you to make a choice. Choose a vial, choose life, choose a power. Now this woman is doing the exact same thing. She's giving you a chance to state your place in the world.

    But honestly… you don't know.

    In the dark of the room, you can't hide your hand from glowing. It shines like a beacon, illuminating part of the room. The oceans respond, grasping the objects closest to you and hoisting them into the air. Paperclip weights attach themselves to you, and you disperse them all with a shake of your head. Pens and papers fall to the ground, all the while the woman in the suit remains perfectly passive.

    Even when you don't want to move something, the oceans scream.

    They crash against your head, attempting to move you, forcing you to notice each and everyone of them! Your eyes force themselves shut, but this only brings you back to the shore. Every ocean surrounding you, moving you.
    Step 32: Signal to increase the rate of frequency, allow the overload to envelop him
    They keep screaming, over and over!

    THEY DON'T STOP! WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE QUIET!?!
    Step 33: Give him the means to his own solution.
    "Don't shut them out." The woman says.

    It's not suggestion, just an order. There wasn't a single word that was emphasised over the others, but it dripped with authority and power. Your eyes open like they were forced to ignore you and focus on the woman.

    She shakes her head, and despite her expression not changing, you feel disappointment come off of her just as thickly as the oceans around her.

    "A mountain will erode if it stands itself in the way of the ocean. Allow yourself to be moved, flow with the waves, not against them." She whispers.

    Her voice is soothing, but still commanding. It's an undercurrent, like a commander trying to reason with her best soldier.

    You raise your glowing hand and, with nothing else left to do, you close your eyes. The oceans burst into existence all around you. You instinctively feel yourself brace, an ocean flowing out of your to combat those coming towards you. In response, the foreign oceans crash into you as they fight to overtake your will.

    No, you're doing this wrong.

    Every time they crash into you, you're pushing back. They want to influence you, push you towards something, but you're not letting them. You're too busy trying to push against everything that you're forcing yourself to endure the sound of it all.

    From the sheets on the bed, the dust on the floor, even you, everything is pushing against you. You move your hand, and the oceans shift around them, as if they want to be moved by your will. They crash into the waves of the wall, the bed, even the ceiling. And with each crash, comes the hammer beats spiking through you. It's like you're surrounded by millions of people, every time you move, you can chose to move them, or make them do something they would never normally do. But every time they do that, they have to tell you that they are moving.

    You're trying to move everything but you don't need to do that. You don't need to look over everything, to control everything around you. You've never had the chance to be the one making the choices. Now, you can chose to move anything. There's nothing stopping you from making anything do anything.

    But… why would you ever want to?

    You didn't choose to make your mother leave, she decided that by herself.

    You didn't choose to be left behind, your family just wanted to keep moving.

    You didn't choose to have cancer, it just happened.

    But what you did get to choose turned out far better than what you couldn't. You chose to support your family. You chose to make a difference in their lives. You chose to push them forward and you chose to help your father despite him not wanting you to.

    You chose to become a friend to a girl who was suffering just like you.

    This power, it came from a choice. Some of them weren't your choice, you know that. Doctor Mother could have just given the vial to someone else, but she came to you. And you chose to take one. You chose to take a chance, to prove something. You said yes, and now you have to live with that choice.

    Now, you chose to stop.

    Your fingers slowly release, your arm falling to your side, and the oceans… come into focus.

    They don't disappear, they still wash against you from every direction. But now, you don't care which way they go.

    You allow them to move the way they want to move, the way the universe wants to move them. A single ocean comes closer to you and you focus on it. Like you, it's being forced around by hundreds of different oceans all crashing against it.

    No, not oceans, waves. They're not a collection of drops, only a series of waves that surround it. It could move, if you gave a single series of waves a little push, or you took away it's hold. And as you focus on one they all show themselves to you.

    Suddenly, something sparks. You can't really describe it, but if you had to, it would be like if a blind man could suddenly see. All around you, the world explode into a collection of waves. It's like you can see everything, but without actually seeing it. You know that there's something next to the woman's foot, you know that she's wearing a watch underneath her coat, along with a small object. You don't know what it is, but you just know it's there. Beyond her, the waves shine, but they don't dim, they're just as bright and wonderful as the ones right next to you. It must be at least a few hundred feet away, but the waves are as clear as the ones in front of you. It's, blinding. Everything coming towards you as you see everything.

    Something in the corner of your vision is making its own waves, hundreds of them as crash against one another. It's moving itself, causing energy to spark. You can add to them as well, move them how you want them, if you wanted to. You don't know how you know that, it's just a feeling.

    The waves shine, making the room sway underneath you.

    There's no limit. If you kept looking, further and further, you would see more waves. And those waves could be moved. Rock, metal, glass, there probably wasn't a limit to what you could move. No human could ever hope to have this much power.

    Then, the question hits you.

    ...so, what does that make you?

    You feel your knee buckle, and you let yourself fall to the ground. As you get closer, you feel waves add themselves under you, pushing against the ground and slowing the descent. When you hit the ground, you don't feel the force, just the sensation of sitting down.

    The second you do, you're assaulted once against by the pulsing beat of the waves around you.

    They won't stop, they'll just keep beating. No matter what you do, weather you control them or not, they're still going to be around you.

    It's… actually not that bad, now that you think about it.
    Step 34: Signal to lessen the rate of frequency, and hand him a true solution.
    The drums could drive you insane with the constant noise. But you could ask for no better reminder for what you've become. You feel more waves crash against you as the woman slowly gets up out of her chair. You take a deep breath, and look up at her. Her face is obscured by the millions of waves flowing over her, but you can just barely make out the form of her hand. She's holding something.

    You take it, and run your fingers across it. It feels like a small piece of metal. The woman slowly leans down, and takes the metal back. She slowly puts it into the fold of your ear. You feel it shift within, then it whirls to life, making something spark.

    The pain forces a wince out of you, but when you open your eyes again, the waves are dimmer. They're still there, in the back of your vision, but they don't scream for attention like the did before.

    They're... quiet.

    You look up, and see the woman looking at you. But, instead of a collection of waves, you see her skin, her features. Her.
    Step 35: Establish camaraderie by presenting a mirrored situation
    "You're not the only one who sees the world with that level of clarity." She explains "The waves hurt him as well, but he learned to build these to block out the extra sound. It will not last forever, but it will help you learn." She says as she moves back to her chair. She picks up the pencil as she does, and she holds it out expectantly.
    Step 36: Cement the validity of your solution.
    How many times are you going to have to move pencils?

    You hold out a hand and focus. The second you do, the waves start shining again. But this time, they are the only ones that shine. The drumbeat is in the back of your head, but you barely notice it now.

    Cracking a smile, you order the pencil to float out of her hand to yours. It's slow, but you want it to be. The pencil doesn't sway in the air, nor does it shift in the air. It remains perfectly still as it sets itself in your outstretched palm. Throwing it up, you freeze the pencil in the air. You make is fly through the air as fast as it can, but stopping right before it hits the wall. You feel it move, but you can barely keep track of it. It stops, millimeters from the wall, just as you ordered. You want it to fly back to you, and it does. It stops right in front of you, exactly how you wanted. You can feel the paperclip weight on your head, but you barely feel it.

    You look at it and it just moves where you want it to. Left. Right. Up. Down. It didn't matter, so you let it drop. Instead of ordering it to stop, you catch it with your hand. You focus on the woman and her chair. With a thought, they rise into the air before floating back down again. Her face could have been chiseled out of marble with all of the emotion that it held in response to your action. She just sits there, expectantly.

    Oh... right, the question.

    You glance at the pencil, and the urge to move it with a single thought goes through you. The urge to show your power, to move things with nothing but your will as you ignore the forces around you and bend them to your will. The world might scream its objections, but you could ignore them.

    You can do that, but you don't have to.

    "I…I'm someone who hasn't had many choices." You say.
    Step 37: Force him to elaborate
    The woman shifts in her seat. Her expression is still emotionless, but she eyes you questioningly.

    "I didn't chose to have… cancer." You say, barely managing to choke out the last word "But… neither did Rebecca."

    You lift up your hand, and as it glows, the waves begin to shine around it, causing it to glow. You can make it go one direction or another, have two forces pull on it from two sides. All it took, was a thought. Just a thought, and it would happen.

    "I didn't choose to get powers. And neither did she." You whisper.

    You let your hand relax and the glowing fades away.

    "But I chose to take that vial, and I can choose what to do now. I can choose how to use these powers." You declare.

    For the first time since you checked into that room in the hospital, your voice feels like it has life in it again. It feels strong, fit for someone with a power like yours. It's… nice to see that someone like you can sound like that.
    Step 38: Question his answer, force him to confirm his resolve.
    The woman rises an eyebrow "And, pray tell, how will you use them?"

    Isn't that the million dollar question?

    "I... I honestly don't know." You admit "But, I have to make that choice. Because, while it hurts me, I finally have a gift worth sharing to the world."

    You stare the woman dead in the eyes "I'm someone who's been given a choice to how to use a gift that no one else has. And everyone else like me, everyone else that's..." You pause, searching for the right word.

    You think back to the training room, when you first realized you could do this. You remember what Matthew described it as. Not as something that was inherently bad, and not as something that was inherently good either. It was something...

    "More," You say "They have the same choice. They can either ignore what they have, or they can use it."
    Step 39: Inform him of the flaw of his reasoning.
    "And if they use it to hurt?" The woman asks "If they use it to further only their own lives at the cost of others?"

    "It's their choice." You say, but the words feel… wrong.

    You shake your head "No… I mean."

    You take a deep breath and try and focus your thoughts.

    "...just because they have powers, doesn't mean they can just use them without thinking about it first. They're something more, something greater. But, at the end of the day, they were still born human. And all humans have a responsibility to use their gifts for the right reasons."
    Step 40: Encourage him to defend his reasoning.
    The woman looks ready to roll her eyes, but you stare her down "I don't care if it sounds stupid, but if you have power, you should at least try to help."
    Step 41: Demand confirmation.
    The woman's look turns positive, the outer edges of her face threatening to turn into a smile "Then, is that what you're going to do?"

    The words are still monotone, but it sounded like a challenge. And honestly, three months ago, you wouldn't be up for it. Three months ago, you didn't have a gift, you were just some kid. Three months ago, you didn't have anything to make a difference like your family.

    But now you do.

    Now you can be someone better than that little kid who forced his mother away. That little boy who could never measure up no matter how much time he put into anything.

    Now, you can be someone worth remembering.

    "Yes." You answer.
    Step 42: Inform him of his success.
    The woman's lips curl into the first full smile that you've seen. She rises out of her chair, walks over, and holds out a hand. You take the hand, and she helps you up. She doesn't let go, putting you straight into a happy handshake.

    "Then, Alex, it's time to introduce myself. My name is Contessa, Deputy Director. And I must say, I am honored to be the first person to personally welcome you to Cauldron."

    She drops the handshake, and motions for you to take a seat on the bed. You do just that, and by the time that you sit down, Contessa has somehow pulled two slips of paper from under her suit jacket.
    Step 43: Express gratitude, exemplify his success.
    "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear of your reasoning. In fact, I believe that puts you as the perfect operative for Cauldron."

    "Sounds intense." You say.

    Your comment earns you an impancent eye roll "I assure you, the position is of utmost importance." Contessa chides.

    You hold your hands up like you're surrendering, but Contessa doesn't get the joke or just ignores it. She glances over the papers before setting them down.
    Step 44: Despeal his concerns, but do not reveal the true purpose yet.
    "I have looked over your report Alex, and tracked your progress through the station, and I know for a fact that a few things don't make sense to you."

    More than a few.

    "Allow me to dispel those questions. Where you are standing right now is the headquarters of our organization: Cauldron; An organization totally devoted to the protection and advancement of humanity, regardless of country or situation. For you see, five years ago, there was an event. It was an ordinary day, people went through their lives as they did. But after that arrived, strange things started happening. People started gaining powers. There was no definitive proof, of course, but here at Cauldron, we don't ignore the obvious. Currently, there are estimated to be only a few, but by the turn of the millennium, there will be more. There could be thousands, and thousands of people with powers is enough to scare anyone. It will be a change, and the world will fear that change. Cauldron, wishes to make sure that change is for the better. For that purpose, Doctor Mother and I set up this facility, and we studied those that were shown to have these gifts. I myself have a power, one that has been instrumental in finding people like you."

    You blink "People like me? You mean cancer patients?"
    Step 45: Tell him of his importance.
    Contessa shakes her head "Did you believe that Doctor Mother's arrival into your hospital room was a coincidence? You were chosen Alex. My power, in a simple sense, it allows me to set a goal, and it gives me exactly the steps required to take and how to take them to reach that goal. With no exceptions, I will have the path to victory."

    Holy shit.

    You blink, "Anything?" You ask in disbelief.
    Step 46: Despeal his disbelief.
    Contessa nods "No matter the goal, I will know the steps. With it's help, Cauldron has prospered faster than anyone could have imagined. We had the goal of protecting humanity, so the path gave me the steps I needed to take to insure that goal. The first steps were cultivating powers into ingestible forms."

    "The vials." You say in realization.
    Step 47: Tell of his critical relevance, tell him just how essential to salvation his help truly is.
    Contessa nods "Correct. My power said that the next step was to find those most willing to help our cause, or the most useful to further it, and give them these powers. Before you, Doctor Mother gave four vials. But the second she finished giving them, the path pointed us directly to you and Rebecca. You were given these gifts because you would be willing to use them to help people, to save the world, to become heroes."

    You just sit there, motionless. You don't even feel yourself breathing as the realization comes to you?

    You, chosen?

    You? The nobody? Were chosen by a power made to find any step to win as the best way to help save the world?

    It should be crazy, but it just sounds… right.

    You want to use these gifts, you want to help, you're just hearing confirmation that you're not wrong for thinking that.

    It's… amazing. Is this what it's like when Clint hears someone call him a genius? When Danah makes something amazing?

    You hear yourself laugh and it feels good. You pinch yourself, and you're not dreaming.

    You're finally special, like them.
    Step 48: Enact a challenge, entice him to continue despite the dangers.
    Contessa slowly stands up "It will be dangerous, it will hurt, but I have never had any reason to doubt my gift. Right now, it's telling me that the world needs Alex Everett to help it. And if you truly are willing, then you only have one more choice to make."

    You raise an eyebrow "And what's that?"

    Contessa smirks "How do you want to start?"

    She takes the second piece of paper and hands it to you. You take it, and glance over the contents. You manage to get a look at the title Operatives before Contessa starts again.
    Final Step: Allow him to place himself within the path.
    "Every story begins with the hero learning their place in the world. You now know your place, now, you must know how you can help the world. Currently, including you, there are five different operatives within the facility training to master their abilities. Physical, mental, application, every aspect needs to be accounted for. Three of them are capable of training you in both the mental and physical aspects of your power, if you so wish to train with them. If not, you can chose to train yourself, such as Matthew. If you do want to train with another, the details of your possible partners are on the file. Chose one, or none, and take your time. I have all night."

    You nod and glance down at the paper of your possible partner. Actually, it's better to say that they might be your trainer.

    They're going to be like you, special, powerful and choosing to help. Does this make them your teammates?

    You look over the file and you chose...

    [] To work with Rebecca. Close combat specialist. With Rebecca, you're going to be learning how to fight up close and personal. Useful for any situation where your powers might be rendered inert.
    [] To work with Charles. Adaptation specialist. With Charles, you'll learn about the different aspects of your power, the small little things that might possible. Useful for knowing exactly how many different things you can do.
    [] To work with David. Variety Combat specialist. With David, you'll learn just what it will be like to fight against those with powers like yours. According to the file, there is no fear of damaging him, allowing you to go all out and learn what you are truly capable of.
    [] To go at it alone. It might take you a little longer, but if you go at it alone you'll learn everything at your own pace. Along with that, if you're alone, there's no danger of hurting anyone else.

    ***

    Arc 1: Indoctrination

    Fin

    Arc 2: Initiation

    Begin
     
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    • 2.1: Twin Titans
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    • You're not going to lie, your first choice is Rebecca.

    Learning how to fight with a familiar face would be a dream come true in this crazy place. On the other hand, you want to see everything you can do. Clint always said to keep a fresh list of your assets before you start a project.

    Then, you look at the final name on the list.

    If you're going to be working with and against people with abilities, you need to know what you are getting into. The file said that you didn't need to worry about hurting him. You don't know if the sheet had your powers in mind when it was written, but given how Contessa said she can plot anything to achieve any goal, you'll believe this.

    Looking down at your hand, you think back on how easy it was to turn a bit of metal into a projectile that could go through a steel roof effortlessly. You can imagine what would happen if that hit someone, but you'd rather not. You don't want to hurt anyone, least of all anyone willing to help you.

    You hand the file back to Contessa "I would like to work with David, if that's alright with you."

    Contessa nods "I'll let him know immediately. For now, you should get some rest." A small smile threatens to take her features, "You're going to need it."


    You yawn as life forces you out of the first peaceful night of sleep you've had in months. The sensation is enough for you to bury your head into the pillows just for a little longer.
    Damn this feel good.

    Honestly, you wouldn't mind just laying there and letting the day pass you by. But, you do have to do something today, and it's with someone that's going to be your teammate. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you manage to catch the sight of a package sitting on the same chair that Contessa had been occupying. How did that get here? Did someone come into the room while you were sleeping? Maybe someone just teleported it in or something.

    Your eyes snap open.

    … the idea of someone just teleporting something in your room doesn't sound crazy? Forget learning to appreciate a good bed, your idea of crazy needs a serious reevaluation.

    You throw your leg to the side, starting the process of getting out of bed. Your foot stops a second over the floor as a thought brings a smile to your face.

    It is the morning, might as well stay lazy.

    You glance and the box and will it into the air. Waves shine around it as it slowly floats towards you. As it flies, your muscles groan as you force them to stretch. You're going to be training, and you'd rather not wake up tomorrow sore. As you go through the list of stretches your brother taught you for your mail runs, the box comes within grabbing distance. You return the waves back to their original position and the box falls onto your bed next to you. Besides a single note at the top, it's just a normal box.

    The note reads: "You're going to need this.

    -Charles

    P.S: The record is three minutes and twenty seven seconds. Try and beat it, I have a bet going.    "

    You blink, record? What record is he talking about? Wait, isn't Charles the name of the adaptation specialist? Why is he talking about a bet? You know what, never mind that, it's probably just some joke.

    At least, you hope it's just a joke.

    Throwing both the note and thought aside, you open the folds of the box and dump out the contents on the bed. Setting the box aside you glance at the contents and see clothes? Picking it up by the shoulders you hold it in front of you to get a better look at it. It's a skin tight bodysuit, like what you would think a superhero would wear. It was completely white with the exception of a series of golden yellow lines that traced the forearms and legs.

    As quickly as you could, you got changed into the offered training gear. It was a bit of a tight fit getting everything in, but once you did it fit a little bit better than your own skin. Clearly someone took your measurements while you were asleep. Curiosity leads you to sneak a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

    Not bad actually.

    You didn't look as good as Matthew of course, but you at least sort of looked the part of a hero now. Strong, tight fitting and leaves little to the imagination in certain areas. Not that you had anything to show off, but it was the principal of putting on something like this anyway. It was a start. If it was going to be a hero's outfit, it needs something a little more. Maybe a helmet, a cape and some symbol on the chest.

    No Alex, get your mind back on track.

    Meet and train with your new teammate, worry about designing an outfit later. Again, you check the clock, and to your surprise you're not even close to running late. That being said, being early to something new was never a bad thing. You head out of your room and close the door behind you.

    The steps down the hallway towards the elevator are as effortless as the last few have been. As you walk passed, you see that the other rooms are baren. What time does everyone wake up around here? It was strange, but that doesn't mean it didn't make you walk a little faster. You thought about just laying in bed and here you have evidence of people waking up and working far earlier than you would have thought from the schedule you were given.

    First days can't all be good, you can at least make the rest of it work.

    The elevator doors slide open and it takes you all of two seconds to find the button labeled E-4. You press it, and the doors close instantly. You notice several collections of waves gather above and below the elevator, each one of them pressing against a different part of it. If one side of the elevator started to lean out of place, another wave would be added to the opposite side. The door slides open, and you step out of the metal box to the training room.

    Like all others that you've been to, it's utterly barren of decoration of any kind. But, The last time you walked into one of these rooms, a sonic blast hit you and you tore apart a wall of bulletproof glass. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility for something like that to happen, but you have a pretty good feeling that it wasn't going to happen.

    Mostly because the guy sitting in the middle of the room didn't seem like the kind of guy who appreciated getting blindsided by anything.

    Bluntly speaking, he looks like the exact opposite of Matthew. While he was supermodel levels of handsome, this guy looks more like the guy you expected to dress up as a superhero than an actual superhero. In fact, you'd say that you of all people looked better than this guy. Mostly because that scowl of his seemed glued to his face. But that could have been because you walked in on him. He wore the same type of bodysuit as you, but instead of gold his suit is lined with emerald.

    But despite that, the very sight of him is enough to take your breath away. It wasn't in the physical sense, obviously, but it felt like it was the kind of reaction you should have when you find yourself in the same room as the President or a King. Instinctively, you just knew to be in awe of this man. His position, his power, everything had to be admired and marveled, even though he hadn't done anything. The thought alone makes you smile, you're going to be working with someone who can get that reaction out of you, imagine what he could do in front of a crowd. He raises an eyebrow at you as you enter the room and then forces himself to his feet.

    "So, you're Alex?" he asks, his voice dripping with barely contained contempt.

    For a second, you can't help but plastering Doctor Manton's face over this guy's. It's enough to stop you from walking and force your smile to falter. It's… a bit much for first impressions.

    "Um… yeah that's me." you say.

    He sighs to himself and tries to distract himself by running a hand through his hair "And I am David, as you hopefully have already guessed. From the man who got Manton of all people to rethink the basics of his theory, I expected someone who looked the part. You don't, from what I have seen."

    You raise an eyebrow and scoff a little to yourself "Sorry I don't measure up."

    "Most don't."

    … this guy is going to be your teammate?

    Fan-fucking-tastic.

    "But, you have asked to work with me and I cannot turn down the training of another S-class hero."

    "S-Class?"

    David stops, and looks you over. There's nothing but pure disappointment in his eyes. The sight of it alone is enough for you to grit your teeth slightly. What did you do to deserve that?

    "You're… serious aren't you? How much do you actually know?"

    You fake a casual shrug "I've been awake for all of two days. I've gotten the base ide-"

    "So nothing of note?" David interrupts "Fantastic, another thing that I need to take care of."

    All around David's head, the waves scream for you to take control. Knock him off his high horse, stop him from looking at you like that. Your hand starts glowing, but you force it behind you. You could force his head into the floor so hard he dents the pavement, but you're choosing not to.

    No matter how tempting he's making it.

    He raises his hand, and it starts glowing silver. Despite the pretense of safety, it makes you tense. So, what's this guy's power that makes him such a hot shot?

    "We can get to that later. For now, you're here for training."

    He snaps his fingers, you blink, and you're suddenly not in the training room before. You're outside, or as near as you could figure. The sky rolls out above you and the ground is pure rock beneath your feet. The landscape is utterly devoid of any defining feature, just a straight, wide open expanse of rock going out for miles in front of you.

    There was no warning, just a snap and away you went.

    You turn around, but it's the exact same sight as the last. Miles and miles of open, expressionless rock. Holy crap you teleported. That… makes your thought about the box so much more applicable.

    David clears his throat, and you snap back around to look at him. He has his arms crossed over his chest, disappointment and annoyance still present in his demeanor. Lazily, he waves a hand in the air.

    "Show me what you can do."

    Again, his haughty tone didn't change.

    And again, you have the urge to smash his face into the rock.

    Yet again, you choose not to.

    You reach out, and focus on a small collection of waves. Willing a few extra underneath them, you force a rock the size of a basketball out of the ground. It floats towards you before stopping next to your head.

    David raises an eyebrow, "Is that all?"

    "I mean, I haven't had the chance to do much else with it. So I've been starting-."

    Whatever you were about to say is cut off as the rock explodes next to your head. The sound alone knocks you to the side, but at least a few waves added themselves above your skin to stop the rocks.

    That isn't to say that it didn't hurt like a bitch.

    Your eardrums bleed as the world spins. You feel yourself scream, but all that comes through is an screeching ping. Beyond that, you can feel the stone bite into your skin as you get a hand on the ground.

    Slowly, you manage to get one eye open. David is still in front of you, but he held out a single, still smoking finger.

    He… he shot you!

    Your knees nearly buckle and fall out from under you as you get up. It hurt, but you ignored the feeling as you choke out your words.

    "What the hell!?" You demand.

    David raises an eyebrow "Is there a problem?"

    You grit your teeth so hard you feel new waves add themselves just to increase the pressure. The man didn't even have the decency to look like he was sorry for that!

    "You shot me!" You say, gesturing at the smoking remains of the rock.

    "I shot a rock." David challenges.

    "That was next to my head!"

    "It was pathetic. As are you, from what I have seen."

    You gawk at the man, waiting, hoping, that's he's just putting up some show. But He isn't. He just doesn't give a damn about you.

    He smiles almost coldly "Prove me wrong."

    That's it.

    You focus on his head, making the waves roar to life around them. With a thought, you increase them. David's head jerks down so fast a small bit of you was afraid that he would snap his neck. He tries to stay up, fight against the waves, but it only takes another thought to increase the number of waves. He was barely holding on when it was just a few waves, adding one more forces him to the ground. His knees hit the rock and you hear something crunch.

    You try to hide it, but you know that you're smiling just a bit.

    David puts a single leg under him, but you look at the rock under his foot and it shifts. His balance slips, and he's back to square one. It's at that moment, that you see. It's so easy. A thought and he's all but bowing. You can feel the pressure on his neck, barely a love tap compared to what you feel you can do. It would be so easy to snap your fingers and increase the pressure until he's nothing but paste.

    It's so easy.

    And that's horrifying.

    It doesn't matter how much he tries, David can't even budge from under some of the smallest pressures that you can administer. And, he's like you. He has powers, but that doesn't matter. If you had gotten the drop on him, or simply stopped playing nice.

    He would be dead.

    And you would have been the one to kill him.

    You feel the bile try and force it's way up your throat, but somehow you manage to keep it down. David might be a bit of a dick, but this has gone on long enough. Holding out a glowing hand, you start to reverse the effects of the waves on him.

    "I didn't come here for you to call me pathetic."

    You take off another wave, lessening the burden.

    "I came to train how to use my powers."

    Another wave off, David has a foot underneath him now.

    "Now, if we can start again," Another wa-wait, where are they?!

    Effortlessly, David puts both feet under him and rises to his full height. He even starts rubbing his neck without a care in the world. You blink and waves shine all around him, but there isn't a single wave connecting to him. You can't feel anything radiating off of him. Nothing on his clothes, the air around him, even the dust from the rocks on his suit!

    He's there, but nothing is moving him.

    You see a waveless, purple flash coming from below. Then, you feel something run down the side of your head. You tentatively reach up and touch it. When you pull your fingers back down, they're stained red.

    Suddenly, it's a lot harder to breath normally.

    You slowly force yourself to look at David, his finger still glowing purple. You focus on the digit, but no waves show themselves. You look to the ground, and the waves shine in greeting. But David… nothing.

    "Better," David admits. "But not good enough. Try again, but this time, actually do lasting damage."

    Now, all that bravado about things being easy seems really really far away.

    You hold up your hands "H-hold on here,can't we talk about this?"

    The comment only seems to enrage him further. His hand glows green for a second before he slams it into your gut. Your world spins as you lose the ability to breath. But, It doesn't stop there. You feel yourself hit hit the ground shoulder first, hard enough that if waves hadn't placed themselves between the ground and you, you probably would have broken just about everything in your body.

    You skip along the ground once, twice, then you skid to a stop. The rock bites into your skin beyond the protection of the waves, ripping the skin off the side of your face and making the world fade out as every sensation is filled with the biting pain. Everything hurts, all at once. You're honestly surprised you're still conscious at this point.

    Instinct alone makes you get to your feet, because god knows it's not you running the show anymore. A crackling sound rings through the clearing, forcing your attention skyward.

    Honestly, you wished you hadn't looked.

    David flew, arms crossed with arcs of pure lightning dancing around him. He simply motions a hand, and a bolt streaks towards you. Your body goes on autopilot, jumping in any direction that would take you away from harm. In this case, it's left.

    The bolt doesn't hit you, but the heat and the explosion it causes certainly does. For the second time today, the world spins. You don't know what hits the ground first, you just know that your nerves are going overtime to tell you that you're in pain.

    And that you would give anything to be anywhere but here.

    Seriously, what the hell is this!? This is supposed to be training, you're not supposed to be in any real danger.

    "It seems that Manton's assessment was wrong. You aren't as powerful as he made you out to be." Despite your head ringing, everything hurting, you can still hear David's smug ass tone clear as day. "If you're going to be this pathetic, you should just allow me to kill you. Save someone else the trouble."

    For some god damned reason, you laugh at that. You don't know why that's funny, it just is. The guy, who is supposed to be training you, is going to kill you? Damn that is hilarious!

    "Hey, if I wanted to die I would climb up to your ego and jump off." You hear yourself say.

    … if you live through this, you really need to get your head checked.

    "... at least you have battlefield banter down."

    You manage to look up just in time for fire to add itself around David. You watch as it mixes with the lightning, forming a solid stream of light that circles around him. He simply looks at you, and the light forms into something resembling a spear. For a second, you can't move. There's only one way you can describe what you're looking at right now.

    Biblical.

    You don't know the science behind what he's doing, but you know that it's more power than anyone should be able to have. And the worst part about it is how effortless he makes it look. The ground around you is shaking, the air around him sparks with power, and he looks like he's just on a nice walk through the woods.

    Just looking at him awakened some primal sense in you; and it was screaming for you to run. You needed to get away, leave this place as fast as you can and then go faster. You try to move your legs, but they're locked in place. Even if you could, you know it wouldn't matter.

    He would catch you.

    And even if you did run, even if you could live through this, you wouldn't really. The first challenge put itself in front of you, and you just ran from it. You didn't think, you just ran. Whenever you woke up, you would remember this moment, and try to think of what you could have done to be better.

    If you ran, Danah wouldn't hold it against you. She would give you a hug and tell you that it was ok. There would be an undertone that she couldn't hear, but you would. Your father would pop open a beer, and tell you that you made the right choice. Some challenges come to men who aren't ready for them. But Clint, he wouldn't say anything. He would just look at you with the same disappointment that he saved for your mother.

    He would never say a word, but he would never let you forget.

    You look up at David, and he still looks as impassive as ever. He still doesn't care. You take a step back, but not to start running. No, you're just planting your foot in the ground. You meet David's stare with your own, and for a second, your breath returns to normal. He's going to throw that spear, and you can't stop him from doing that. He has power, but so do you.

    It's not as much, far from it, but it's still something. So if he is going to kill you, then you're at least going to make him work for it!

    David raises his hand, and you raise yours as well.

    But, you don't focus on him.

    You pull on the ground, as many waves you can grab onto at once. David snaps his fingers, and the spear soars through the air towards you. With a scream, you force every collection of waves up.

    There's no shift, no sound, until a mountain flies from the ground. Hundreds of tons of rock shoot skyward on your order, ignoring all laws that might have kept it down. It feels like someone attached a dumbbell to your head, but you ignore it. What you can't ignore, is the sound of the spear crashing against the rock.

    The explosion spits the mountain as easily as you would crack an egg. Dust and rock flies everywhere, and their waves shine out clear as day. You grab hold, and add as many waves as you can against them in the opposite direction. A shotgun blast of a thousand rocks and dusts flies towards where you think David is. You hear them hit something solid, but it sure as hell isn't a body.

    The dust settles, revealing David, perfectly at ease behind a wall of light.

    Teleporting, lighting, fire, stopping your powers, flight.

    How many powers does this guy have!? Whatever the number, it's cheating!

    David raises an eyebrow before disappearing in a puff of smoke. In the corner of your vision, you see the same smoke. You focus on the ground beneath him, forcing it skyward as well. A twenty foot section of earth soars into the air in accordance with your will. You feel David hit the side of it, and you grab hold of the rock once again. You order the pillar back down to earth, as fast as you want it to. It screams as it cuts through the air, and the world cracks as it smashes against the earth. Tons upon tons of rock force dust into the air as it hits the ground. You hold up a glowing hand, and a wall of waves appears in front of you. The debris hits the wall and does as much damage as a fly when it hits tank armor.

    You feel a hand grab your shoulder before an arm locks around your neck and throws you to the ground. You barely feel yourself hit the ground, but David's heel on your chest, that gets through. You crack an eye open long enough to see his fist glow green. You see it come towards you.

    It hits, and everything goes black.


    Well, you're not dead. If you were, you wouldn't be hurting this much. You force yourself to lean up and rub the dust out of your eyes. When they finally open and focus, you see David sitting on a rock. He gives you a sidelong glance and all feeling of fatigue and pain is gone.

    You scurry back and focus on the rock under him. The waves shine for a second, but they just disappear a second later.

    "Don't bother," David drones, "it will only end like last time." He pauses, it's slight, but noticeable. "That being said, if it were anyone else other than myself, there wouldn't be a next time either."

    You get to your feet "What are you talking about?"

    David looks at you and smirks. It's not his normal cocky smirk. He might be happy about something, but you have no idea why. He says nothing, simply gesturing at the expanse before him. You walk up beside him and look out.

    The sight of it makes your jaw drop.

    No longer was the ground a long, unbroken chain of expressionless rock.. Now, it looked like the surface of the moon. Hundreds of small craters dotted the landscape, a few dozen not too far from where you now stood. There were two long gashes carved into the earth like something had been dragged across it. Both of them broke apart at times, making the lines disjointed, but clearly connected. On one side, you can see spikes of rock stand like spires, casting shadows over a canyon. On the other, a melting collection stones. Near the center of it all, two huge holes bore into the ground. You don't know how deep they are, but you probably wouldn't be able to tell even if you were at the edge. Even if you were, the damage stretched out for miles.

    "Like many others, this rock wasn't here before we started training, it was probably buried hundreds of feet down." David says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He pats the rock beneath him before leaning down and picking up a baseball sized rock "And this rock is what remained of the projectile that made that crater right in front of us."

    "Well, you do cheat," you say, all but spitting out the words.

    Your comment only makes David laugh. He glances at you, as if checking if you were really serious. You just glare at him, and he gets the message.

    "That I do, that I do," he admits, "but I'm not the one who made this place into a warzone."

    That throws you off "What?"

    David gestures at the ground again "Most of this, all you. You were barely even thinking and you managed to turn this nice place into a hellscape."

    He smiles, and gains a thoughtful look in his eyes "Imagine, what you can do with a little more practice and training."

    "I'll gladly learn," You say "But sure as hell not from you."

    "Are you still mad about the rock?" He asks.

    "You tried to kill me!" You scream.

    "How else do you get a pacifist to cut loose?"

    You don't bother stopping the disbelieving cough as it comes out of you. David slowly gets off the rock and looks at you dead in the eyes, his gaze holding utter conviction.

    "You are a good man Alex, and I respect that. I truly, truly do. But niceties will only go so far. We're going to be fighting against others like us. People who most likely wouldn't give two shits whether you lived or died. You don't want to hurt people, but tell me something, what happens when you're all that stands between innocent people and a villain you can't just throw into a wall?"

    You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. David waits, but you don't say anything. You don't have an answer.

    "You chose to help people, to learn what you can do. But you were never going to go all out against people, were you? You had me at your mercy, but you couldn't even stomach a few seconds of it, could you?"

    You nod. David nods and for a second, he almost looks mournful "I did go a bit far, but you needed to have your eyes opened. You're powerful, Alex. If you don't know just how powerful, you're going to slip and hurt someone. Be it yourself, or those you are protecting."

    His hand glows silver and he snaps. You blink, and the two of you are back in the training room.

    "So for my first lesson, I showed you just a taste of what you can do. For the next, we're going to be working on practical applications."

    He stops for a second "That is, if you still want to work with me."

    You look at David, the man who probably held more power than you can even imagine. The man who hurt you, who kicked the crap out of you.

    Just so you could see just how different you were.

    And how much power you really have.

    [] Stay and work with him. Despite his intense methods, you did ask for this. Besides, if it were anyone else other than him, you might have killed them. He's not the nicest man, but he is trying to help.
    [] Go work with someone else. You don't give a damn if he was trying to open your eyes, he hurt you, without remorse. You can thank him for the lesson of how much you need to learn, but you can learn the rest from someone else.
    [] Work with no one, if David is any indication, things can go out of hand fast. Better be on your own than hurting someone.
    Adhoc vote count started by IKnowNothing on Jun 12, 2017 at 9:58 AM, finished with 245 posts and 59 votes.
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    Interlude: The Right Questions....
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    • Cambridge, England.

    August 19th, 1986

    Rain hits the glass windows of the quiet cafe, hushed conversations from what few customers sat huddled inside the only din to be heard. Sitting in a booth, alone from everyone else, sits a young man. Slim fingers twirl what looks to be a rather heavy pen, taking a few moments every now and then to tap it on the notepad in front of him. His other hand taps at a small cup of coffee almost rhythmically, still full to the brim, heat wafting off the top. There's a quiet ding from the front door as a person walks in, closing an umbrella and brushing off what little rain had made it past.

    In the booth, the young man's smile creeps up an inch. The person makes his way over to the booth, ignoring the looks from the other patrons and the staff. He sets down his umbrella and a small conductor's baton. "I was told finding you would be the easy part," the man says.

    Across from him, the young man just smiles and raises his cup, taking a quiet, but long, sip. "Richard, I presume?" he asks, the expression on his face betraying that he very well knew the answer.

    Richard matches the man's smile with his own, bowing his head slightly in answer. "I didn't even wear a name tag," Richard jokes, but both men knew a falsehood when they heard one.

    There's a slight chuckle as the young man with oddly colored eyes puts his cup back down, and leans back into the chair behind him. "Perhaps not, but exchanging names and pleasantries isn't why you found me, now is it? Why would somebody like you, want something from somebody like me, I wonder?"

    Richard drops his smile, leaning back into his own chair. "I was told that if I wanted to know something, I would need to visit the Seer first. What I need, is something only one such as yourself can provide. If, the rumors are true." Richard slowly turns his gaze, and points to a single patron sitting alone in the cafe. She held a single cup of coffee to her lips, and Richard smiles at the action. "Tell me, if I snap my fingers, how will that person react?" Richard asks in challenge.

    "How would that woman react if you were to snap your fingers?" The younger man asks, before raising an eyebrow slightly, "I believe she would fumble around looking for something to dry herself off with."

    Richard eyes the man, daring him to change his answer. He waits for a second, then two. Then, he snaps. A single ping, not unlike a bell chime rings throughout the room. Across the cafe, the coffee cup shudders for a moment before shattering. Hot coffee spills all over the unprotected woman. She, as predicted, jumps in her seat and reaches for anything capable of drying the searing hot liquid out of her clothes.

    Richard tries to keep the pleased glint out of his eye, but his smile returns full force. He leans in, his posture completely business like if not for the bluntness of his approach. "It seems you might be him him. If you are, I assume you know what I'm going to ask of you?"

    Again, the younger man just raises his eyebrow slightly, smile rising up ever so slightly with it. "What you want of me? What you sought me out for? Those are very interesting questions, of course, but I'm a little more interested in something else."He leans forward and opens up the notebook on the table. Even at a glance, it's easy to tell that it's completely full of exactly what Richard wants. Names, times, locations, everything. As if to prove the point, he turns the page, and then to another, and another. Every page is full, full of information. Information that was vital to him. He closes the notebook, puts the pen down beside it, and then steeples his fingers. "I'm very willing to give you what you're asking of me, but first…"

    The young man's oddly colored eyes glint in the dreary light. "What is it that you're willing to pay me for this?"

    Richard taps his finger on the table, eyeing both the young man and the notebook in front of him. He stops tapping for a moment, then a faint chuckle escapes him. "Well then, I guess you could say that if you gave me what I want, I could give you the city of London in all her glory. But that's not what you would want, is it" He shakes his finger almost hypnotically. "No, you're the kind of guy who wants more immediate pay. To that question, I answer this."

    He spreads his arms out wide, an inviting gesture, if it were anyone else. On Richard, it seemed more of an invitation to your own destruction. "Whatever I can give, it is yours. All I need… Well, you already know what I need." he says, gesturing at the notebook.

    Across from him, the younger man's smile creeps up into something almost resembling normality. On him, however, it looked more akin to a predator staring down its prey. "That is rather convenient. You see, I was just thinking I needed somebody that owed me a favor. Still, favors are only so valuable as you keep them, yes? So, Richard…" His fingers unclasp, and he pushes the notebook over to the other side of the table."What do you think about keeping in contact? It just so happens that I think our plans seem to coincide on a number of… Important matters. If you promise to do a few things for me here and there, I would be happy to answer questions of this calibre whenever you feel the need."

    Richard lifts a skeptical eyebrow. "Any question? And more than one at that?" he asks.

    "Of this calibre," the young man, tapping the top of the notebook, before smiling lightly, "Some questions would cost you more than this world could ever offer. I wouldn't suggest asking those."

    Silence reigns for a moment, Richard remaining utterly still. He reaches forward, touching the notebook, but not opening. His finger hovers over for a second, then retreats. He tips a non-existent hat to the young man. "Mind if I borrow your pen?" he asks.

    Rather slowly, the younger man's eyebrow arches back down, almost furrowing. "Would I mind if you borrow my pen?" he returns, before shaking his head. With a delicate grip, he lifts the oddly expensive looking writing device by one end, offering the other to Richard. Richard takes the offered pen, and nods. "I don't think you do, since I'm going to be writing your price." He casually picks up a napkin and writes down a series of numbers. He closes the pen, and hands both back to the man.

    "A pleasure doing business with you," the young man replies with a quaint smile, pocketing both the note and pen, before tapping his cup, "Ah, before you depart, would you care for a cup? Just because you didn't come for pleasantries doesn't quite mean we should ignore them, don't you think?"

    Richard tilts his head, surprise clear on his features. He raises a hand, beckoning a waitress towards the table. "One cup of whatever's brewing."

    She doesn't write it down, only nodding and returning to her work. Richard settles back into his seat and smiles. "I don't see why not."

    The young man's smile returns to its prior state as he lifts his cup. He takes a sip, and waits in silence for the waitress to return with Richard's drink.

    "I wonder, exactly, how long it is that this relationship of ours will last?" The young man asks innocently.

    Richard lets out a rue chuckle "Long enough for both of us to get what we want."

    The young man matches his chuckle as Richard raises his cup "Alea iacta est." Richard whispers.

    The young man raises his as well, and the two glasses connect.


    Finally alone, Oracle lets out a quiet sigh and loosens his tie a little bit. A new cup of coffee sits at the edge of the table, freshly brewed, and all evidence of his compatriots' cup and the notebook gone entirely. After taking all of a moment to relax, he reaches inside his coat and pulls out a notebook similar to the one he'd handed off, if just a little smaller. He opens it with practiced ease, flipping through the pages until he reaches one where the writing seems to stop.

    He pulls his pen from his pocket, pulls off the cap, and writes a series of seemingly random letters beside a name. Nodding to himself, he taps the back of the pen to his lips, a thoughtful expression in place.

    "Now, who should I focus on next…?" His eyes glaze over for a bit, and it takes a few seconds before the pen lowers, and he writes a name.

    Alex Everett

    A slight smile plays at his lips.

    "What kind of person is he, I wonder?" He pauses, tapping the pen against his chin now.

    "What kind of person is he going to be?" The pen stops, resting against the side of his lips.

    "And how do I kill him?"
     
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    • 2.2: Slow Beginnings
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    • He could have killed you.

    But he didn't.

    He thinks that everything he does is right.

    But he's trying to help you, in his own roundabout way. Remember that hellscape? If it's true that you did that, then what would have happened if someone else was there? You would have crushed them. You would have sent a thousand bullets through them.

    You would have killed them.

    Not David. David is more than capable of holding his own and train you.

    Even if he does think he's better than you.

    David waits, not even tapping a foot as you collect your thoughts. Swallowing something, probably your sense of decency, you sigh.

    "If you're willing to tone things down, slow down a bit, I'll be willing to work with you."

    You look to David, measuring his reaction. That reaction is to wince slightly, but keep a small smile with a bit of a sparkle in his eye. "Then how about we get started, shall we? The sooner we get you stronger the better."

    God, he couldn't sound more giddy if he was a kid on Christmas. "Haven't we already started?" You ask.

    David shrugs, "That was less of a fight, and more of me practicing on a talking punching bag."

    You stare at him, and he stares right back. "... can you go one minut-"

    "No." He interrupts.

    Just like that, you immediately regret your decision. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you fight off a headache. David glances down, "For starters, you should apologize to Charles for ruining his suit when you get the chance."

    The suit? What does that have to do with… oh.

    The suit, if you could call it that anymore, looks more like a torn rag than anything that could be used for battle. Your entire right arm is bare, the material severed completely at your shoulder. Several holes dot your legs, along with a rather substantial cut across your neck. To top it all off you have a very profound boot shaped hole on your chest. Thankfully, you don't have a mark on you, which is concerning.You remember getting shot, feeling the blood run down your head. If the status of your lack of an arm guard is anything to go on, you probably should be missing half of that as well. "If you're curious, I healed you while you were sleeping." David says casually stretching an arm "I couldn't have you bleeding out on me." For the first time since you've known him, David's tone takes on a softer, almost gentle tone. It makes you take a step back. Is he actually concerned?

    "If you died, Manton and Rebecca would never let me forget it."

    You're not going to lie, for a second there you had hope. You stare at the man incredulously, "Please tell me that's not your only concern."

    David lifted a hand to his chin "It's not my only concern," he admits "but it would be the greatest."

    Waves scream into existence around his head, all but begging you to repeat the beginning of your last session. This time, without stopping. You shake your head, and the waves dim to be replaced by other lights. Just look at the positives. At least he has more than one concern. Granted his major concern utterly disregards your health. Again, on the plus side, he's not being subtle about how he sees you. Amazing that that is a step up from the people who were supposed to be taking care of you. Then again, when the bar is six feet underground it's not hard to get over it.

    "So how do we start, oh wise and powerful one?"

    "David is fine." He says, but you note the smile.

    "You don't seem to mind."

    "No, I don't," He says "but you do."

    You roll your eyes and David either doesn't notice or ignores it. He takes a seat on the floor, you start to sit down as well, but David shakes his head.

    "I am resting, you are going to be training. Start by running laps around the training room."

    You stare at him "Really?"

    David chuckles to himself "If our little, spar, was anything to go by, you don't really know how to run well do you?"

    You try to suppress a groan, but it just barely leaks out. David doesn't comment, probably another thing he doesn't have to care about. "What does running have to do with learning my powers?"

    David studies you for a second, and in that time, his expression goes from excited back to the annoyance you remember him wearing when you first saw him. He runs a hand through his hair "Do you know how tiring a fight is? It is the most physically, and mentally demanding thing that you will ever do in your life. You have to notice every small detail, manage every movement you take, and fight through the feeling of your own body destroy itself from the strain. Because if you don't, you'll die, and everyone you're fighting for will die as well. We'll take the time to get you into better shape, and for the rest of our available time we'll practice with your powers."

    "Then why didn't we start with that?" You demand "It would be a lot better than what you di-"

    David cuts you off, throwing a single hand into the air "I admitted that I went a little far. I acted rashly, and went ahead without thinking. I am toning it down now as per your request, so drop it."

    "You were throwing a giant fire spear at me!"

    "It was plasma." David corrects.

    "How is that relevant!?"

    David sighs impatiently and points a finger at you. It glows purple, and you get the message. Forcing your mouth shut, you take off at a moderate pace along the edge of the room. Just like a racetrack, you head around the room clockwise. You glance back at David, but he's still sitting in the same spot.

    … he's just going to sit there while you sweat your ass off isn't he? At least he isn't talking. You put one foot in front of the other for a few minutes, and you're starting to feel the first beads of sweat start to form on your head.

    "You're from Los Angeles?" David asks.

    The question causes you to misstep, nearly hitting a wall before you right yourself. "Yeah," You say between breaths "Why do you want to know?"

    You see him shrug and lean back on the floor "Watching you run is boring. What was it like?"

    If you weren't so focused on keeping a rhythm, you would have rolled your eyes or flipped him off. Instead you just remember "I grew up on the edge of the city… Mom left when I was four and Dad took his bartender job a little too seriously." You stop for a breath, and David thankfully doesn't press it. "He cleaned up his act, but I spent a good chunk of my time growing up letting my brother help me with my schoolwork."

    "Sounds like a good man." David comments, sounding almost wistful as he says it.

    You shrug as best as you can while you run "He's a genius, he could work on a paper while explaining to me how multiplication works. Even when he started skipping grades, he made sure to keep me and my sister on point with our studies. Although, I'm the only one who really needed it."

    You slow your pace for just a step. You hear a whistle, and David's finger is still glowing purple. Looks like you're not slowing anytime soon. He lets you settle into a more comfortable pace, but the comfort in it probably wasn't going to last long.


    As it turns out, it doesn't. You never went into sports, but if anyone suddenly gets superpowers you were sure as hell going to recommend it. Your legs keep moving, but you can't feel them anymore. They long since stopped screaming for you to slow down and rest. Now they feel like pistons on a machine, moving just because that was their purpose. Your arms feel the same: limp, barely functioning appendages that have hardly any use anymore. The only thing you can still feel with some certainty is your chest gasping for breath every second. Sweat has long since matted your hair down and stained your skin.

    Honestly, you don't know how long it's been. There isn't any clock in the room, and David never answered you when you asked. He told you to keep running, and you did. To the point that you'd rather be fighting him again than continuing this. You put one foot in front of the other, over and over again.

    Then, you feel something on your shoulder. It slows you to a stop, and helps you stay up. Your neck slouches to the side, allowing you to see David offer you a water bottle. Somehow, you manage to take the bottle and pour the liquid down your throat. Only to spit it back up again. It tastes like liquid cement, clogging up your throat and making you gag. You drop to your knees, dry heaving the liquid out of your mouth while David just watches on.

    "It will be a lot better if you just drink it," he says. You try to look up at him, but your neck doesn't have the strength anymore. You lift the bottle again, steel yourself, and force it down. You feel several waves move the process along. It burns as it goes down your throat. Then, it doesn't. In fact, nothing seems to hurt anymore. Your legs feel like someone gave them a massage, and your arms feel like they've been bench pressing two twenty your entire life. The burning in your chest stops. You feel like you've just woken from the most reinvigorating sleep in your life. The only thing that remains to remind you that you've been running is the layer of sweat over you.The bottle rips itself out of your hand as David takes a seat next to you. His hand glows silver, and the bottle disappears. He looks, almost pleased. A thin smirk plays on his lips and he looks almost marginally impressed when he glances at you."Hour and a half," he comments "Not bad for a kid who never trained a day in his life." You just roll your eyes at the comment.

    "Now," David says "We get to the final lesson of today."

    "And what's that? I'm going to be dodging more plasma arrows?" You ask.

    David smiles "You're going to start flying."

    "... what?" you blink.

    David's smile slowly disappears as he pinches his head in frustration. "This is going to be my whole life now isn't it? Why can he just..." he whispers.

    You finch at the statement, and honestly you don't know what's worse. The fact that he said it right next to you, or the fact that he said it at all. He's helping you Alex, just keep telling yourself that. Even so it's starting to get really hard to justify everything with that answer.

    David sighs, long and dramatic just so he can get your attention. Slowly, he starts to float off the ground. He remains in a sitting position, not even taking the time to look impressed at himself for defying the laws of nature. All around him, you feel waves scream in protest. The ones above him try in vain to force him down, while those below are strong and sustaining.

    "Flying," David repeats "Will be your main method of maneuverability so long as your powers are working. Because you," he pauses, pushing something down as he does. For the first time that you've seen him, David looks like he's in physical pain "Insist, on going slow, we'll get you floating before we start flying around at max speeds. Truthfully, I can't wait for the time when you insist that I don't hold your hand, but that's not the world we live in."

    It's telling that the hardest thing you're managing today is keeping a straight face. Just keep remembering what your brother told you. Always sit up, eyes open, and listen to your teacher. No matter how bad the experience might be. If Clint had to go through this when he was going through school, you have even more reasons to respect him for his work. David looks to you and gestures you up. "Now you." he orders.

    You glare at the man "Do you just expect me to just, pick myself off the ground and fly?"

    "You threw a mountain at me, survived being dragged across half a mile of earth, and sent a piece of tank armor into orbit." David deadpans "Making yourself fly should be child's play at this point."

    That's… honestly a fair point. It shouldn't be too hard. But how do you start? You could just grab hold and go with the flow, but the last time you operated on pure reaction you threw a mountain and ripped apart a tank armored wall. You'd… rather not do that to yourself. You glance hesitantly at David "Do you have any suggestions?"

    David purses his lips slightly. Then he closes his eyes in focus. When he does, the waves under him disappear, but he remains exactly where he was. He opens his eyes, and they shine with something. It looks almost like understanding. "You can lift objects easily enough, right? Just grab hold of some waves and force the ones below to be stronger and just throw them?" You nod "That is not how you're supposed to be flying unless you're going in a straight direction." He spins in the air slightly, facing you completely. "Look down at yourself, and tell me what you see."

    You look at him skeptically, but you do as orders. The second your eyes readjust, the waves shine, impacting every spot of your body simultaneously. It's blinding, and you nearly lose focus but you squint your eyes and bare through it. "Waves, thousands of them hitting every part of me."

    "Good, ignore the ones forcing you down, focus instead on those that keep you up."

    You nod, and grit your teeth in concentration. Slowly, the waves start to diminish. One by one, the those that crash down from above fade into the distance, allowing those under you to shine ever brighter.

    "Notice each and everyone of them," David commands "Notice how each of them moves you in a different direction." Right, left, up, diagonal, hundreds of different directions all at once. "Now grab hold, and order them to move in a singular direction."

    You take a deep breath, and you do just that. "But not all at-. The waves immediately switch directions, all of them pointing up. You have just enough time to smile before you feel yourself lift off of the ground. No, that was wrong. You aren't lifted off the ground, you're blasted off the ground. The solidity of earth beneath your feet leaves you as the air seems to snatch you off the ground. You turn to see yourself speed towards the ceiling, and you throw out a hand in defence. A string of waves comes to your aid, forcing themselves away from the ceiling and pushing you back. It rockets you back to the ground, and you put your hands out in front of you for defence.

    Then, the wind stops.

    You tentatively open an eye and you see David focusing on you, his hand glowing a bright gold. Whatever he's doing, he suspends you in the air and it forces a line of sweat down his face. "You. Didn't. Wait. For. Me. To. Finish." He says through gritted teeth. He snaps his fingers, and you fall to the ground with a thunk. Waves brace your fall, but they do nothing to stop David from glaring daggers at you.

    "...sorry." You whisper.

    David looks ready to chew you out, but he grits his teeth and forces a sigh. However it sounds closer to a growl than anything calm. "You're new, you're learning, and I clearly need to be more... precise with you." He looks almost insulted that he has to say those last few words. "We'll start more detailed flying practice tomorrow, you're free for the day while I fix the room."

    "Why do you need to...?" You look up, and a crater not unlike the ones you caused in the training space looked down on you from above. You slowly look back to David, and he just looks at you with utter disappointment in his eyes. "Oh."

    "Yeah, oh." David repeats. He jerks a thumb at the door, and you get the message. You slowly walk towards the door as David focus on the hole in the ceiling. The door slides open and you turn around just in time to see David's hand glow orange. He reaches to the sky, then hesitates. "Alex," he says, stopping you in the elevator. He pauses for a moment "You can tell the two betting men that Charles won and Matthew has to pay up; They'll probably be in the lab. Rebecca is normally in her training room, T-6 around this time if you want to talk to her."

    You blink, that seems out of left field. "But don't stay up too late, we're starting again at seven in the morning tomorrow. If you're late, things will be much more uncomfortable than today. Do I make myself clear?"

    You nod your head as fast as you can and David hums in satisfaction as the doors slide close. You lean against the side of the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief. That is going to be everyday? Oh joy. Taking a quick look at the buttons, you don't care where you go next so long as it doesn't involve getting thrown around a room.

    [] Go to the training room and talk to Rebecca. You need to talk to someone about this, someone who is willing to listen to your side and give you advice.
    [] Head to the Lab. Matthew was willing to listen to you the last time you felt lost, maybe he can give you some pointers. Hopefully Charles wouldn't mind the destruction of his suit.
    [] Find Contessa. If she is the Deputy director, you really would like to know what is in her head that allows her to let David get away with that.
    [] Grab a bite to eat and go straight to sleep. Today, you've been shot at, punched, ran like a dog, and insulted more times than you can remember. You've had just enough of today.
     
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    • 2.3: Things that Should Never Change
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    • There's not much to think about. You might not be confined to two rooms, you might be inhumanly powerful. You just spent a good chunk of your day talking to someone who made it their mission to insult you. The waves shine around the metal of the elevator, waiting for you to give them the excuse to crush it, take your frustration out on something. Taking a very deep breath, you calm yourself. The waves don't go away. Ignoring them, you settle with the best option you have here. Weather it be people insulting you to your face or dancing around it, there was at least one thing that you don't mind keeping the same from your time in that place. Talking to the one person you could actually trust in a world that seems to be getting stranger by the day.

    You press the button marked T-6 and the elevator whirls to life. You don't hear it, obviously. The only indication being the waves above you forcing the metal box down and the wires fighting against the pull. It's bright, but not blinding. You've got to remember to thank Charles for these things when you meet him. After you apologize for ruining his hard work. But in fairness to you, David was throwing fire arrows at you. Or plasma, whatever it was.

    The door slides open and T-6 spreads out to meet you. And it looks just like the field after you fought David. The steel walls are dented and broken. The floor has more bumps and bullet holes in it than you can count. Several of the holes look like someone had just punched clean through the metal without a care in the world. In the center of the room, Rebecca is standing in a version of your training attire with black highlights. It looks infinitely better on her than it does on you, she could actually pull off black strips. She doesn't notice you come in, she's utterly focused on an invisible opponent. She moves, and her arm turns into a blur as she strikes. A boom escapes her fist as the blow goes straight through the sound barrier. It makes you take a step back and several waves put themselves between you and the shockwave. You barely feel your jaw hit the floor. The girl that was barely strong enough to lift her textbook without assistance was punching the air so hard the very room rattles.

    Rebecca strikes again, and again the room shakes from the force. Against her invisible adversary, Rebecca doesn't let up. She punches once, twice, ducks under a blow and lets out a warcry as she sends a kick into the ground to finish the job. Her foot makes the metal shudder and scream before blasting open. She sinks into the ground and the second she stops she smiles at her work. She takes a second to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

    You don't move, you can't move as she finally turns around and notices you. Her eyes brighten just a little bit as her gaze focuses. Her smile vanished as she takes note of the damage to your suit. Waves force themselves into existence behind her as she disappears from your vision only to reappear right in front of you. You jump back and you might have screamed a little, but Rebecca catches you. She takes a quick look at your suit, "What…" She starts. She tries to find the right word, but she struggles to find it through the sight in front of her "What happened to you? You look like you've been through a warzone."

    "That's not actually not far off." You scoff in irritation.

    Rebecca flinches, she gestures to the ground and the two of you take a seat. Rebecca worms her fingers together "Charles didn't make you operate in his experiments did he?" She asks "I swear he's not trying to hurt anyone but he rushes ahead without thinking."

    You shake your head "It wasn't Charles."

    Rebecca frowns, then her expression slowly hardens. You watch as Rebecca takes on an expression of utter hate. If you hadn't known her, you would be terrified at what you saw. You hear the sound of crumpling metal, and you lean over to see Rebecca's hand crushing the metal of the floor as easily as paper.

    "David did this too you, didn't he?" Rebecca asks. It's not exactly a question, she just wants to hear your confirmation.

    You nod "Yeah."

    She nods, the action slow and deliberate. The sound of bending metal fades away, but not completely.

    "And you only went to him for training, didn't you?" She sounds hurt. She disguises it well, far better than you can remember her being able to but you know when she's hurting. And it doesn't help that you're the reason that it's happening anyway.

    "Rebecca," You start, but the words choked in your throat. Rebecca crosses her arms, and it seems she's further away than she really is. Swallowing the feeling, you force it out. "I didn't do it to make you mad."

    "Then why Alex?" Rebecca demands "When Contessa told me that you were starting training, I thought you would take the smart option and go for someone you actually knew and trusted. Instead, you go to train with someone you've never met and end up being hurt because of it."

    "I didn't care about that when I made the choice." You say.

    Rebecca waits, and her stubborn exterior shudders. She leans a little closer to you as she tries to get comfortable on the floor. "Then what were you thinking of?"

    You hold up a hand and experimentally move a few fingers "Everyone else besides me."

    The silence that follows is suffocating. Rebecca seems to sink into herself, but for the life of you you can't tell way. She doesn't look angry, she looks almost proud. She looks scared, and it hurts to see that. It hurts even more to know that you're probably the cause.

    "Rebecca, I didn't choose you as my mentor not because I didn't want to; Far from it. You were my first choice, and if I didn't stop to think I would have come straight here to train with you."

    You catch a small smile worm it's way onto Rebecca's features. She doesn't shake, she doesn't say a thing. She just listens. It's amazing, you would love to have that control. Forging on, you take a breath to stop your hands from shaking. It doesn't work as well as you want it to.

    "But… I remembered what I did. I was barely awake for an hour before I started ripping apart tank armor. Before I started shattering glass. Before I realized you were alive as well and I… nearly lost it from the overload."

    Rebecca doesn't say a thing, but she squeezes her arm just a little tighter. "I didn't notice," she whispers.

    You shake your head "You didn't know. I didn't want you to know. I got help, and I made a choice." You hold up your hand, and it begins to glow gold as waves shine around it. "I finally have something special to show the world. And it scares me."

    The controlled facade that Rebecca put up fades for an instant. For a second, she looks terrified. Regardless, you press on. "I ripped through tank armor, I broke bullet proof glass, and I did all of that without even trying. No, when I saw the list of names I went for David only because it said there was no chance I could hurt him. I admit," You look down at your suit, the torn edges and hole over your chest "It wasn't the best Idea. I knew David for all of five minutes before I reacted. I took control of the waves and I…. I nearly killed him."

    The image of David, powerful as he was, forced to the ground by a single one of your thoughts. The memory makes you shiver, and a familiar feeling starts clawing it's way up your throat. You keep it down, somehow and continue. "He got out of it with some power of his, and minute later I was throwing a mountain at him and turning thousands of rocks into bullets with a wave of my hand. If it were anyone else… I don't want to think what might have happened. I can do so much without even lifting a finger. And that scares me. What I can do to myself, and to the people around me. So I didn't put anyone at risk, or at least, I tried not to."

    The silence returns, and neither of you move. You wait for Rebecca to say something, anything. Ridicule you, tell you the flaw in your thinking, something. You look at her, and you see her eyes begin to water. She rubs them away as she barks out a soft chuckle and shakes her head. "I don't know why I worry."

    "About?"

    She laughs again "It's amazing. I've never seen you so passionate about anything." She looks straight at you, and you're frozen in place from the gratitude in her smile "You could rule the world, and you don't want to hurt anyone."

    You shrug "Well you know me, always standing up for what's right." You joke.

    She puts up a hand to stop a smirk "I'm being serious. That's not how a man thinks Alex, that's how a hero thinks, and you know the best part? You've always been thinking like this. Even after your episode with David, you're right here, in my room, making sure that I can talk to you."

    "I ah…" You shift a little where you sit as your nerves get to you. You're not used to Rebecca smiling with that much life in her. It's both welcoming, and surprising. Better get used to it now, you're probably going to see it a lot. "Just came to get some help with my situation." You say "I'm not that special for doing that."

    Rebecca raises an eyebrow but she shrugs off your answer "Regardless of how you feel about yourself, we do need to talk about David's treatment of you."

    You blink "Oh don't worry about that."

    Rebecca gives you a flat stare. "I'm serious, he promised to go slow and everything." You say.

    "And how annoyed was he that you wanted to do that." She asks.

    You think back to the powerhouse's pained expression "Extremely." You admit.

    "He's not going to change."

    You shrug "He seemed happy enough when I fought him."

    "And you want to do that again?"

    You can feel the blood drain from your face. "Oh god no."

    "Then why are you defending him?" She asks.

    You try not to meet her gaze at that question "I don't know, but can you help me out anyway? Didn't you get an A in psychology?"

    "I doubt high school psychology is going to help you understand a narcissistic warmonger with a pension for showing off."

    You blink, and the message on top of the box comes back to you. "I now know why the record was so short," you groan.

    Rebecca scoffs "It took you this long to figure that out?"

    "Hey I'm the slow one remember? Can you at least try?"

    "My immediate advice would be not to talk to him for the foreseeable future."

    You think through the option "Not really a choice. He's the only one that can take what I can dish out without dying."

    You glance at her hopefully "Unless anyone-?"

    "Most likely not." Rebecca says with a shake of her head.

    Your shoulders slump "Oh, I got hopeful for a second there."

    "I'm durable, but given your declaration, I don't think you want to start testing that."

    You shake your head "I thought as much. For your other options, Matthew is durable to an extent, but I outclass him. Charles is baseline human without his toys. So if you really don't want to risk it, David is the only option." she says
    "And if that's the case, there's not much I can do. It has to be you who wants to keep training with him."

    "I'll last two more days tops then." You say defeated.

    She puts a comforting hand on your shoulder "You're doing it for the right reasons. You just need to keep reminding yourself of that.

    You give her a disbelieving glance "And what am I going to tell myself everyday when I'm getting my butt handed to me?"

    Rebecca frowns and leans back. Her brow furrows in concentration and you find yourself waiting impatiently for an answer. Every second drags on, and you forget how long you've been down here. Rebecca shoots to a sitting position "I've got it."

    She grabs your hand and all but rockets you towards the elevator door. It felt like your head was going to snap from the sudden speed increase, but luckily for you the waves kept the movement to a minimum. When your head stops shaking, you're in the elevator headed somewhere. You look to Rebecca, but she just gives you a knowing smirk and says nothing. You'd like to push her for answers, but when Rebecca wants to surprise you nothing is going to stop her from setting off that surprise. The door opens to the rooms. You give Rebecca a sidelong glance. She waves it off "Change out of the suit, put on anything, and meet me outside the hallway."

    "Bu-"

    You catch the waves exploding into existence again, and a second later she's gone. You're left standing their with an outstretched hand and more questions than answers. You let your hand drop to your side and just do what she wants. It will probably make sense eventually. You head to your room and go through the first set of drawers. Like you expected, they're full of different shirts, jeans. If the closet had a tux, you probably wouldn't be too surprised. You take the first set of matching clothes that you get your hands on and change. They're a bit loose, but you can make do.

    You head out of you room, and find Rebecca waiting for you with similarly casual clothing. She kicks off the wall, probably as softly as she can before putting a finger to her ear.

    "Door me."

    Next to, space splits open as a literal door appears out of thin air. It opens with a squeaking of gears and on the other side there's an alleyway. Rebecca steps through without any concern and when you don't follow she gestures you inside. You take a step forward, then another, then finally you manage to get to the door and step through. The second you do, everything changes. The air feels hotter, the breeze is greater and the sound of speeding cars and horns echos from the distance. "Where are we?" You ask.

    Rebecca says nothing. She walks down the alleyway, and gets to the open sidewalk. She stops, and waits for you to stand beside her. The second you do, she points up to the distance. You follow her finger, and a familiar sign looks out from the distance. The sight of it forces something out of you. A cough, a laugh, you don't know. And you don't care.

    You're home.

    Rebecca pulls you away, forcing you to take in the sights of the rest of the city. The buildings, the streets signs, everything feels so familiar. You barely pay attention to the route that Rebecca is taking you along. You just… you're walking down these streets again. You're standing healthy and hearty. You're back in the city that raised you, free from cancer with your best friend and a gift to share.

    It's… perfect.

    Rebecca stops and you nearly run into her. You look at the stop and choke out a laugh at the sight. A small building, right at the edge of a crosswalk in the center of town, with a sign reading Everett Point above the door. It's built into the bottom of an apartment complex, with a single waiting bench outside and a parking garage on the other side. Rebecca walks up, produces a key and unlocks the door. She moves right by you, and nudges you forward " You need a reason to stay with David and get better? Here you are, I'll be waiting here."

    With that, she makes her way over to the bench and takes a seat. You watch her go, and she shoos you inside. Rolling your eyes at her, you step up to the door and push inside. The door opens without a bell, or any sound to announce your entrance. The door shuts behind you, and you're greeted with the sight of the bar that you remembered well. The tables all but thrown around the available space. The booths bolted to the wall, and the bar standing at the edge of the room for all to see. Despite the disorganized appearance, you could effortlessly go from any table to the other without going out of your way. And most importantly, you could get to the bar and the kitchen door at the end of the room. The tables had stacked chairs on them. Every inch of available space on the bar is filled with drying glasses. You make your way past the tables, letting your hand float atop the wooden surface of a booth to help guide you.

    Despite it being utterly silent, you could still hear the sounds of glasses clinking together across the room as you played with a coloring book. Learning math from your brother as you tried to hide under the booth. Getting on your hands and knees to scrub the floors and earn an extra buck. This place, it might have gotten a new name, but it really didn't change at all. You manage to get to the bar, and the second you do you see a blackboard. The daily special was erased, but right under it is the all time special.

    "Everett Point Special.

    One Free Drink to all fathers who have lost an irreplaceable gift.

    To remember, to mourn, but never enough to forget.

    -James Everett, Owner    "

    The kitchen door opens with a squeaking of hinges and the sloshing of water in a bucket. You lean away from the bar and lock eyes with a man who just walked out. The second that he saw you, he drops the handle of the mop in his hands. He adjusts his glasses, and steps to the side to get a better look at you. He runs a hand through his hair and slowly tapped his finger on the bar counter.

    "I saw the medical reports." He says "You were dead. There was no doubt in my mind that you had left us."

    He shoved a glass off the bar counter as sprints towards you. He all but tackles you into a hard, but gentle hug. You don't bother waiting for any invitation, you return the hug with as much strength as you feel you can.

    "I have never been so happy to be wrong, in all my life."

    His voice stays as strong and perfect as ever. However, you feel your shoulder grow damp as the first few tears start to fall. You feel your own eyes watering as you hold back a sob.

    "I thought I lost my little brother."

    You hug Clint a little tighter.

    "Nope, I'm here to stay." You choke out.

    He slowly breaks the hug, you can tell he's reluctant to let go. He looks you over and tries to say something, but nothing comes out. He sinks into a seat and tries again to speak but nothing comes. Guess you can change one thing and be the one to start the conversation.

    [] "Is Dad ok?"
    [] "Did Danah move on?"
    [] "Did you finish your studies?"
    [] "I didn't miss anything, did I?"
     
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    • 2.4: Anyone can be...
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    • "Is Dad ok?"

    Clint's smile breaks, and yours feels a lot heavier. He leans back in his chair and his hand inches towards one of the drying shot glasses. He doesn't hide it, Clint shakes his head and lets out a laugh. It's forced, and it looks almost painful to put out. "Dad's fine, so long as he's taking his medicine."

    He all but spits out the words. The room suddenly feels ten degrees colder, but you try to remain calm. You look at Clint questioningly "Clint, what happened to dad?"

    Clint taps his hand on the counter again, looking at you with a downcast expression. He's thinking of the best way to tell it to you, lessening the blow for your sake. If he wasn't, he would have already told you. It would be a waste of his time to dance around the subject.

    "He's clinically depressed, an alcoholic, and nearly running his newly acquired business into the ground without a second thought." Clint response. "The only reason he hasn't as of yet is due to Danah and my intervention. As of right now, he's most likely in his room trying to sleep off a hangover. Danah will visit him once she gets off school, but I haven't talked to him since I sent him to his hospital in New York with Danah.

    You stare at him, the message putting you into the ground. You feel yourself slump into your chair. Dad… he was so close to stopping the last time you talked to him. He told you, he promised you that he was finally at the finish line.

    "I'm putting the bottle away, I promise."

    Those were his exact words. Now, they feel a empty.

    "You're wasting your time if you blame yourself." Clint says, breaking you out of your thoughts "I was the one who delivered the medical diagnosis. If anyone is to be blamed, it should be placed on me and me alone."

    "Gee, thanks Clint," You say dully

    "There's nothing you or I can do except be there for him. We can't change his choices, we have to respect them. You can't change a man's mind without force. And force only leads to horrid outcomes."

    "I remember you telling me that when me and Danah were younger," you say. "Something about respecting choices."

    Clint's eyes sparkle with something akin to pride, "It was the one lesson that I don't remember having to say twice."

    "It stuck," you admit.

    "I would hope so. Nevertheless, we shouldn't be speaking about father. While our right, it's disrespectful to him and what he's done for us."

    He leans forward, and puts a hand on your shoulder smiling as warmly as he could. It seems off, but he's making it work. "But enough of father's… mishaps. The real matter is you. When did you wake up?"

    "A few days ago." You answer.

    Clint stares at you with wide eyes, seemingly awestruck by your very existence "Incredible. There hasn't been a single recorded survivor of stage four renal cell carcinoma. It's… it's..."

    "A miracle?" you offer.

    Clint stares at you agast. Slowly, a deep rumble escapes him and it escalates to a hollow laugh. It sounds like a goose trying to honk and get more air, and to this day it's never failed to make you laugh as well. You don't bother holding anything back, showing him that you were really here. It was ugly laughter, the kind that most people never really feel in their life. It hurts, but you don't remember feeling this good in a long time. For the first time in four months, you're laughing your heart out with your brother. He has to hold onto his sides as he leans back and stares at the ceiling in fiend horror "What is this world coming to? Little Alex finishing my sentences."

    "Clearly the end of the world is nigh! There's nothing you can do about it, sorry to tell you." You joke.

    Clint has the heart to chuckle at your attempt at humor. He leans up and stares at you, studying every inch of you. Slowly his gaze turns from hopeful, to concern. His arms cross over one another as he waits for something. "Is there something you're forgetting to tell me?"

    You feel your smile whip off your face as confusion takes hold. "What do you mean?"

    "Alex," Clint starts, his voice level and his tone perfectly still. It's enough to send a shiver down your back. "I'm happy, beyond words that you're here with me. But don't for a second, think that it's blinded me from asking the right questions."

    "Like?" you ask nervously.

    Clint shoots you a look that only conveys disappointment. "Like how you managed to survive. There's no treatment for what you had, and no recorded case of anyone living more than a month at the stage you were in. In addition, you have a full head of hair, your muscle mass is at optimal conditions despite you being six pounds away from critical anemia. If you just woke up, there's no way that you were able to maintain your muscle mass with the instruments available in today's market. And ...I stopped believing in miracles when Robin walked away from us with a smile on her face."

    His expression doesn't change. Despite laying fact after fact, he's still smiling supportively "I know you're not addicted. None of your behavioral patterns have changed, your eyesight is as focused as ever so there's no lingering effects. It's possible, that they could have done something else to you, but I know my little brother wouldn't take something without asking what it will do to him first." Clint's expression stays the same, but you see his fingers grasping together to tightly that the knuckles go white. "Sorry, but I don't want any secrets in this family. Not anymore."

    You freeze in your seat, and your hand feels far heavier than it should be. You don't move, you can barely breathe. A minute, it took him a minute. It shouldn't be too surprising. It's Clint. If he wanted to, he could tell you what you're thinking before you're thinking it. You've never been able to keep a secret from him, and you don't know what worries you the most. That he might hate you for hiding it, or why you didn't just outright tell him.

    No matter what you say, he's probably not going to believe you without a demonstration. If you do that… what happens to Rebecca? You teleported home, without going to Contessa, Doctor Mother or Manton. What if there were rules against telling people about your powers? There might be nothing, but if there was, Rebecca was going to take the blame.

    You won't let her take it. It's going to be you and you alone that messes up. If you can help it, there won't be a single blemish on her record. She deserves nothing less, for everything she's done for you.

    But Clint deserves the truth. The thing's he's done, the life he had to lose to keep you and Danah moving forward. You can make a small start, but the debt will never be repaid.

    Doctor Mother and Contessa are probably going to be pissed, but this is worth it. Why be a hero if you have nothing worth protecting.

    "I…" a chuckle breaks out of you, nervousness slowing you down "you wouldn't believe me."

    Clint shakes his head and flashes a confident smirk "Try me," he challenges.

    The infectious nature of the smile worms it's way into you, and as it comes full circle you raise a hand. Focusing, the waves shine into existence. You reach forward, and as your hand glows that familiar golden color, you force your will over the table behind Clint. You only add a few waves under it, letting it equal the power of the waves above. As it floats towards the two of you, you barely notice Clint gripping the wood of his chair. You bring the table over and freeze it in the air for both of you to see.

    Clint's eyes widen ever so slightly. With one hand he grips his chair with the other he taps against the bar counter. He opens his mouth and raises a hand, but closes his mouth soon after. Slowly, he tears his eyes away from the table and back to you. You nod "If I told you I had superpowers, you wouldn't have believed me."

    He raises his hand again. "Several comments," he says, his voice wavering for a moment as several beads of sweat make it down his neck. You nod as he lifts a finger "First, please put the table down before someone walks by sees a floating table."

    Oh, right. That would be weird. You glance back at the table and wave your hand. It floats back to it's position and slides down back into place.

    "Thank you, second… I would've been sceptical, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for you to have superpowers."

    You blink. Not out of the realm of possibility? When did Clint, the man who questioned everything he saw on principal, believed that?

    "You?" you ask "You believe in superpowers?"

    Clint shrugs, his demeanor returning to it's calm norm for a second "When you see a man create and throw streams of fire from his hands, someone else run through walls without touching them, you start believing in strange things."

    "There are others?" You ask.

    Clint nods "Three in LA from what I've witnessed."

    "They haven't tried to hurt you have they?"

    Clint shakes his head "They were too busy trying to inspire or trying to run for their lives to see me."

    He sees your confused expression and shrugs "About a month after you went with Doctor Mother for your coma treatment, reporters started...seeing things, for lack of a better term, a black blur. No pictures, and no evidence of movement technology from what scientist have been able to gather. Whenever this blur arrives, one of the more interesting members of the neighborhood suddenly don't hurt anyone anymore."

    He pauses, it's slight, but you catch him casting a glance out the window to the street corner.

    "But, it gave me all the reason I need to start believing that people are capable of amazing things. And now, you can apparently control gravity?"

    You nod "Right on the money."

    "Oh boy," he breathes.

    Clint runs a hand through his hair as you awkwardly shuffle on your seat. Silence overtakes the room for a minute, then two. Eventually, Clint clicks his tongue and leans forward. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he starts, "you were visited by Doctor Mother, she cured your cancer, and as a side effect you gained the ability to control one of the fundamental forces of the universe?"

    "That's the gist of it, yeah," you admit.

    He slowly nods. "Are there others like you?"

    You nod. "Five, from what I know."

    Another nod from Clint. "So… do they… train you?" he asks.

    "Yep," you smile, but it turns sour as the memory of David comes back, "some of them need a little attitude adjustment." You throw the thought aside. David was just one of them. Matthew, Contessa, and especially Rebecca, they only want to help. They've been nothing but kind, no need to paint all of them with one bad experience. "But they've helped make sense of," you hold up your hand, "this."

    Clint says nothing, taking in each word and considering them all like he always does. A minute of silence passes as you wait for Clint's response. Your foot tap against the floor, and your hands wrestle with one another. After what feels like an eternity, Clint pinches the bridge of his nose.

    "Final question, Alex. What are you and the… others, going to do with your gifts?"

    You break out into the widest smile your face can manage. This is it, the time you get to show him what you're capable of. Lifting up your hand you focus and allow it to glow without grasping hold of any waves. "We're going to be saving the world."

    Clint doesn't move, waiting for you to elaborate.

    "We… all of us who have these gifts, they have a choice. We can use them to help people, or help ourselves. Everyone I know, is going to be helping people. We're going to use our gifts to help and save anyone we can however we can. We'll stop wars, keep buildings from coming tumbling down, save hundreds if not thousands of lives! We're going to be her-"

    "What you're going to be, is dead."

    The utter venom of the statement stops you in your tracks, sucking the bravado out of your statement. It sends a shiver down your back when you see the piercing disappointment in Clint's eyes.

    "Save the world? Alex, these are superpowers given to ordinary people. There is no scientific reasoning to say they could be naturally occurring. But even if we take a second to imagine if it could, even if yours were artificial, it took living through three months of cancer to gain them. Imagine, for a second, how they might naturally occur?"

    "They could be painless," you say, but your argument only earns a humorless laugh.

    "Alex, evolution does not occur to those who are comfortable or are at the top of their respective food chain. It comes to those who have to bite, break, and sacrifice just to survive every single day. Those people, do not want to use their powers to help people. They only want to help themselves."

    "Not everyone is going to be like that."

    "I'm being realistic."

    "Sounds pessimistic to me! Do you care if I used these powers to help people?!"

    Clint shakes his head "Not at all. You have restraint, and sound judgement. If anything, you'll go out of your way to help everyone you can, just like you said."

    "Then why aren't you giving everyone else a chance?" You demand.

    The question forces Clint to slam his hand against the bar counter, making the glasses rattle in place and you to jump in your seat. He points a shaking finger at you "You are a good man Alex! But that does not mean that everyone else in the world is going to share your values! Do NOT fool yourself in believing the world will be kind to you!"

    "Then I'll help them!" You scream.

    "How?!"

    You throw your hands into the air, "I have no idea how, but at least I'm willing to try!"

    Clint shoots to his feet. "And as you're trying to be nice to the world, the people who don't want to be helped are going to find some way to take off your head! You won't last a year if you're not careful!"

    "I will be then!" you counter, rising to your feet as well. All around you, the chairs and tables begin to rumble as you latch on to the waves without meaning to. "I'm not going to be alone, I have people like Rebecca-."

    "Wait, Rebecca has powers now?" Clint asks, his anger fading for a second to make way for confusion. It doesn't last long. "It doesn't matter. You might have each others backs, but no one is going to be invincible. Both of you will end up dead, or worse if you do this!"

    You run both your hands over your face, trying your hardest to hold in your frustration "I don't care what happens to me, Clint! This is the one chance in my life to show the world that Danah and I aren't drunken mistakes! My one gift that I've gotten in my life that makes me special. Why do you want to take this away from me!?"

    "I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FAMILY AGAIN!!"

    Like a switch, the room drops into dead silence. No one speaks, nothing moves. The frustration that lead to your anger leaves you as quickly as it comes. You stand there, wide eyed and confused as your brother tries and fails to hold back tears. He sinks into his chair, his energy utterly spent. His eyes only stare at the floor as thick droplets of water slide down his face. You reach down, but Clint shrugs away from your touch.

    "People, they called me a genius. The next Einstein, the man who will bring science to a new age." Gone is the layered tone of the man you knew. In its place, the sad cracking speech of a defeated man. He laughs, but there's no levity in the action. "A fucking fat lotta good that did as I watched my little brother slowly die. As I watched my father try to kill himself and all I could do is ship him off to a therapist. I could recite all the scientific knowledge in the world, but it couldn't do a thing to help either of you."

    His arm limply reaches out and grabs hold of your hand. His knuckles go white, and if it weren't for the waves, your hand would be screaming. You see his jaw tremble as it tries to force out the words through the red pain forming in his eyes "I can't stop you… you can help whenever you want. Alex, you're not Atlas, you can't hold the world on your shoulders. It will crush you, it will drag you down until you're nothing left but a man who realized he never did anything right."

    He doesn't meet your gaze, you don't think he has the strength to anymore. "I don't want you to experience the hell I went through."

    You force back a sob. This… this is really Clint isn't it? The man who could do anything. The brother that always had your back. The man who you wanted to be, was hurting like this.

    And you never knew.

    You force a smile on your face and lean down to look into his eyes even if he doesn't want to. He doesn't do a thing to stop you, if anything he only looks more ashamed. It takes everything you have to keep the smile on your face.

    "You're right, I'm not a hero," you admit, "but I can be, along with anyone else who tries."

    Clint barks out a painful laugh. "How can you say something that contrived? After Dad, Mom, cancer, how?"

    You force back a lump in your throat "Because even a "do nothing" like me can be a hero if they choose to be. Even a teenager, who's willing to stay up all night to help his little brother learn math even though he had to keep up his grades. Who dropped an interview to help his little sister realize her dream of making real music. And who wouldn't hesitate to help his father when he couldn't help himself."

    Clint stares at you, frozen in his seat. Slowly, he starts to shake as even more tears begin to flow. He puts up a hand to hold back a sniveling cry, but they can't be stopped. He falls off of his chair to wrap his arms around you for the second time tonight. For the first time in your life, you're the one who helps him to the floor as he cries into your shoulder. For the first time, you're helping him stay straight and strong. He hugs you as tight as he can, and you return everything he gives with a little more.

    "B-be smart," he forces out.

    "Just like you taught me."

    "Listen to Rebecca, she always did have a sharp head on her shoulders."

    You smile at that. "I trust her with my life."

    You feel him nod. "That's good."

    You hold onto him for another minute, before slowly letting go. Clint is reluctant, but he concedes in time. He wipes tears from his eyes and tries to smile. It's shaky, but it's there. He's scared, but you've never seen him so proud in your life. "You… you better get going."

    "I can help here if you need." You start, but Clint stops you with a shake of his head.

    "You've helped me more than you can ever realize. You've saved your first helpless victim, now go train, get better, stronger, so you can save all of them."

    You feel your eyes water and you shakily nod your head. To that, Clint only hugs you again. "Come home safely, whenever you can. I love you little brother."

    "I love you big brother."

    He lets you go, and the two of you rise as one. You take a step towards the door, and Clint to his mop bucket. Your steps echo, each one of them piercing your hearing and making the next all the harder to take. You reach for the door, push it open. It feels both heavier and lighter than it should be. You step through, and the cold night air hits you. It makes you release a breath you didn't know you were holding. The second you let it out, your shoulders feel lighter. It feels fantastic.

    You search the street for Rebecca, and find her sitting on the bench like she was when she let you in. She's staring at a stranger as he walks away, but that doesn't matter. You walk up to the bench. "Rebecca."

    Your best friend jumps slightly from the surprise and stays there for a second before realizing it's you. She floats to the ground and smiles, but it turns to concern when she notices that you've been crying.

    "Is everything alright?"

    You look back to the bar, and it feels good to leave it behind. "Yeah, everything's perfect. Thank you."

    She flashes a soft, warm smile that makes you shuffle your feet. "Anything for what you've done for me."

    [] Head back into the bar, with Rebecca. Clint might send you away, but you're not done helping him. You and Rebecca can go in, and help him through the work he's placed on himself.
    [] Head back to Cauldron. You've been gone long enough, best get back before you get in anymore trouble with Contessa.
    [] Ask Rebecca if it's ok to walk through the city. After all that emotion, you need one last look at what you're going to be protecting.
    Adhoc vote count started by IKnowNothing on Jun 25, 2017 at 9:54 AM, finished with 28 posts and 14 votes.
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    • Talking to the right people
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    • Quiet streets, quiet night, quiet city. The first time that Rebecca had earned her first stakeout mission with Contessa, it didn't take long for the first lesson to sink in. It's not the mission that's the hard part, it's waiting for it to start that will kill you.

    The waiting, sitting around, doing nothing, literally allowing fate to set the scene for you. All the while, you can't do a thing.

    It was for a good cause, but that didn't make the waiting any less boring. She knew it would be a long conversation, any family member separated from one another for an extended period of time would make sure to spend an adequate amount of time just to convince themselves that it was actually happening.

    Knowing Clint, he probably would ask any number of questions.

    It would take an hour, at the very least, for everything to be done.

    Which was fine. They would spend the time laughing, crying, being brothers. It's exactly what Alex needed. It would be an interesting conversation, when the two of them got back, but that didn't matter.

    He visited, every day. He never stopped. Letting him see his family again sooner than expected was one way she could start paying him back.

    So, come what may, this trip was the right choice.

    "Cold night, isn't it?"

    Rebecca jumps a little in surprise. Not because of the sudden voice cutting through her thoughts, but more because she hadn't heard anyone walk up on her. People didn't get the drop on her, not anymore.

    Her hand starts to curl into a fist on reflex, and carefully, she slowly turns towards the owner of the voice. Whatever she was expecting, the man standing aside the bench, one hand in his pocket and an almost mischievous smile in place, wasn't quite it.

    "Still, it's rather heartwarming to see someone willing to wait for their boyfriend in such conditions," the man says, violet eyes glinting even despite the dim light, "I would say I'm surprised, but you do seem to give off that kind of warm presence."

    Rebecca felt her jaw drop. Her mouth moves, but the only thing that comes out is a gibbering mess of syllables. She forces her jaw shut, and tries to get her thoughts in order as she studies him a little more closely. A nice suit, definitely custom-made, but the way he wore it was just a little too casual for the money it must have cost. There was a very obvious bump in his breast pocket, but it wasn't big enough to be a gun. Even as time starts to drag on, the man's smile doesn't really waver; if anything, it starts to get a little amused.

    On the subject of his comment, there was no need to react like that. It was just layover surprise from his ability to sneak past her senses. The comment was made in friendly conversation, nothing more. If anything, the intended effect could have been just the reaction that it could have caused. A bit of a joker perhaps, but hides it behind professionalism and kindness. Not a single hint of malice.

    "I will admit, it's not that often that I get to talk to another special one. You're changing the answers about every few seconds, you know?"

    Rebecca's second fist curls, who was he? He's smart, observant, but he doesn't want to do anything harmful. His visit, his speech, even his posture point towards curiosity. But, there had to be purpose. His clothes are wrinkled slightly, and unwashed as of two days. His accent is curious; a mixture of Eastern European, American and British English. A traveler, hearing so many different forms of speech he forgot his native tongue. If so, why here? Alex? Her? No, how would he know to meet them here?

    She felt a small shiver run down her back. A precog? If so… there was no need to be subtle.

    "Precognition is a bit of a strong word for it," the man interrupts her thoughts, still smiling.

    "Then what else should I call the facts? No normal man could know I was here, and who I am. But here you are. So, I'll ask this once, why are you here?" she asks.

    She made a point to grip the railing of the bench, slowly bending the metal. He taps the tip of his shoe against the pavement, looking somewhat pleased with himself.

    "I thought it prudent to make my introductions to the future Alexandria, before she becomes too famous and I'd be forced to make an appointment. I'm afraid I wouldn't do well with your organization, there's far too much red tape."

    The metal of the bench screamed. Alexandria, that was going to be her name. A homage to the lost city, its great library of knowledge.

    And a reminder, of the first real… friend she had.

    She had never told a soul, yet he knew. The evidence of another honest to god precog standing in front of her continued to pile up.

    Yet, she had to be sure.

    "How do you know that name?"

    Violet eyes glint against the dark city backdrop.

    "I asked."

    "And you just happened to get an answer?"

    He nods a little at that, smile shifting down into something that could only be called businesslike.

    "Indeed, although I should admit there were more questions to ask to get that name than just one. I learned a lot of things along the way; such as the fact that you're one of the few people in this world willing to stick by what they believe is good. Or the fact that you have a very bright future, alongside the people you care about."

    And just like that, his smile curls into something genuine.

    "Or the fact that you felt obligated to visit your boyfriend's bed every day even when they told you that you shouldn't. If I wasn't already trying to do what I think is good in this world, that very well may have convinced me that I should."

    He's not lying, he's not trying to make any assumptions. He was stating fact, just because he could so that he could see her reaction. It made Rebecca blink. A precog, one good enough to know her inner thoughts, is standing in front of her and all he wants to do is make casual conversation?

    That… doesn't make sense.

    "Why do you think he's my boyfriend?"

    Rebecca felt her face pale, and the need to go to the other end of the bench felt very prevalent at that moment. She… she just asked that. No, it was just a joke for a reaction. Nothing more. He wouldn't think anything of it. For some strange reason, her heart almost sank when he raised up an eyebrow.

    "So you aren't dating yet? My mistake, I must have gotten the dates mixed up. Perhaps in a month or two… Definitely a year."

    "Wait we will?"

    "Well…" the man trails off, smile moving right into a knowing smirk, "Is that the question you want to ask of me? Normally I would charge for this kind of service, but I can think of something much better."

    "C-can we change the subject first?"

    His eyebrow raises up a little more, her heart sinking with it.

    "Well, I suppose we could discuss the payment first, that would likely be the proper way to go about this."

    Wait, payment?

    "I didn't agree to any service."

    Across from her, the man lets out a little 'ah' of disappointment, eyebrow moving down as his eyes close for a brief moment.

    "That's quite a shame, considering your payment was just to keep our little rendezvous between us. If not, though, I'm afraid I can't even do something as simple as to give you my name. That would be a question, after all."

    Rebecca lets out an "ah" of disappointment of her own, but next to his, it wasn't extreme.

    "You know so much about me, a bit rude not to even the scales."

    His eyes open, revealing deep violet once more.

    "I suppose it would be. Normally I would give my title, but for you… My name is Roland King. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Costa-Brown. Or would you prefer Miss Costa, now?"

    "I would prefer that you stop knowing so much about me," she says, "but precogs can't help what they know, and I can't help wondering why you would want to get to know me before I made a name. You're not the only one I know who plays the long game."

    Roland's eyes actually seem to flash, but it must just be a reflection of a streetlight catching at an odd angle.

    "I wouldn't say that's quite true; there may be others that play the long game, but I play the longest game."

    "I have a friend who would disagree with you."

    He slips his other hand into his hip pocket, smile returning to that brief hint of genuineness.

    "While that may be so, it can't hurt to have someone else along for the ride, no? We're all passengers on this little ship we call 'life,' and I would be far more interested in seeing us all make it through that trip without hitting something on the way."

    Rebecca waited a second, studying every part of Roland that she could. There had to be something, anything that would give any indication of an ulterior motive. But, there's nothing. No twitch, no nervous shuffle. He… truly wants to help.

    Just like Alex.

    Rather out of the blue, a draft comes down the street. For what's perhaps the first time, the shiver he suddenly has doesn't seem planned in the slightest. While Rebecca blinks in surprise, he sidles forward a bit and takes a seat on the bench, putting her between him and the oncoming wind. Rebecca found herself moving to the side, giving him as much room as needed.

    Again, there was no ulterior motive to this. He wanted to sit down, but it wasn't that cold. Low body temperature due to… less than desirable amounts of body fat and muscle. No need to judge, but it did feel weird. Like sitting next to David, except on some level she actually enjoyed this conversation.

    "My initial assessment was correct, I think," Roland speaks up, looking far happier now, "You do have quite the warm presence."

    "... th-thank you?"

    Rebecca tries to move further away, but the bench was only so big. He chuckles quietly to himself, but it's hard to tell if it's at her attempts to escape or what exactly she'd said.

    "Really, I should be the one thanking you. Most times everyone is so caught up with who I am that they don't have any real interest in figuring out what I am, so to speak. It's refreshing."

    Everyone, multiple subjects and interactions? It would explain the lack of weight on him. Someone so focused on the meeting wouldn't care for the mundane details of everyday life.

    "So you just walk up to everyone thinking of making a name for themselves and offer them a deal?"

    Next to her, Roland taps a finger to his cheek, as if in thought.

    "Sometimes. Sometimes I offer deals to those who weren't interested at all, but had the potential to make great changes to the world."

    His smile rises up a bit.

    "I've also saved those that otherwise would have fallen to cruel fates. Usually in ways that won't have them feel indebted to me, I should add. Loyalty like that is dangerous, and tends to corrupt. Far better that people make their own choices, I feel."

    "You chose to do this, and you didn't do it just for the reward?"

    "My reward came at the start of the journey," he replies simply, "I'm taking advantage of that by doing what I feel is right. If that helps others, then all the better."

    Pure honesty. Everything pointed to that one conclusion. It was difficult to see, much less believe, but here it was. Rebecca shifted into a more comfortable position on the bench.

    "So… your service."

    Roland looks over to her, smile curving back into that initial mischievousness from when she'd first seen him.

    "My services… Well, to put it simply, you may ask me questions. Questions small, questions large. If it's not something I feel I need to keep to myself for obvious reasons, I'll answer you honestly. Normally I would require a substantial monetary advance just to give that explanation, but I've enjoyed myself enough tonight that I'll waive that. Then there would be an individual price depending on the question…"

    His eyes glint yet again.

    "But as I said, my cost is only that you keep our little meeting a secret."

    After a few moments, he pulls his other hand free from his pocket, and extends it out towards her.

    "Do we have a deal?"

    No, that would be the sensible answer. Contessa laid direct objectives to follow. Don't reveal Cauldron, its members, or inner workings. Report all unknown variables. A precog is the perfect unknown variable. On the other hand, it was also the perfect advantage. Contessa alone could shift the course of the world. To be in contact with another like her… the risk is great, but calculated so long as she told Contessa the second she returned to base.

    In the end, there was only one conclusion that allowed for the greatest potential for success.

    "I can't tell anyone?" she asks.

    His hand doesn't waver, even with how long it's been hovering there by this point.

    "I would add on that you also couldn't write it down on a piece of paper for someone to read, or anything similar, but that would be a little unnecessary a tag-on. As rare as it is for me, I'd like to believe that I can trust you to hold up your end of this arrangement."

    She drums her fingers on the bench before taking the offered hand in her own. Just like she practiced, simple, slow, easy motions. Anything more would hurt him.

    "Deal," she answers.

    The mischievousness in his face depletes into an almost relief as she shakes his hand, and she can't help but note that the way he grips it is strangely easy. As though he knows exactly how to make it easiest on her to use that practiced motion she'd learnt.

    Precogs are terrifying.

    "I'm glad we could come to a deal," Roland states happily, before dropping her hand from his and actually standing up, "Though I'm afraid we'll have to leave it at that for tonight. I'll be sure to contact you soon, but as your boyfriend is on his way back I wouldn't exactly want to give him the wrong impression, now would I?"

    Rebecca's hand freezes in place, and she started saying incoherent syllables again. This time, she managed something intelligible.

    "I thought you said it wasn't time yet?"

    ...not her best response.

    Roland gives her a sidelong look and opens his mouth, and then a surprisingly deep expression paints over his features.

    "Well, it might never be the time if Alex lets himself get caught up in a sandstorm without protection."

    He looks a little perplexed for the briefest of moments before his face smooths back over into a light smile.

    "Well, I'm sure things will turn out fine, but be sure to keep it in mind, won't you? The world would be a much better place if your… future boyfriend stayed alive."

    "Ahhh….."

    The one part of Rebecca's brain in charge of formulating intelligent responses decided enough was enough for the night. So it allowed her jaw to hang open and a single syllable to play itself until she ran out of breath. Roland just gives her one last smirk before slipping both hands into his pockets, taking just one step.

    "Ah, for the record? Your boyfriend's here."

    And then he starts walking.


    Taking a different style than the main story. Fits better for this character I feel
     
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    • Just How AU
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    • Dark as Silver said:
    You know it occurs to me that I don't think the Protectorate knew Contessas power, in that first Interlude doesn't Legend assume that she's a body guard and must have a powerful power?
    Interlude 14.5 (Bonus Interlude)

    In fact, the Triumvirate didn't know each other and had been independently heroing until Cauldron stuck them together, so thats probably more AU. Interlude 15 (Donation Bonus #3)
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    That is true, however, I put my personal spin on it. I thought it apparent already, but you guys are in a total AU from what you're used to.

    As such, I might as well say it here. The amount of things that have changed from cannon are staggering. Mostly because you guys are going to be the ones influencing a great majority of the events and characters by interacting and changing things.

    One, for instance, is that Alex lived through his cancer treatments. In every other world or timeline, he died a week before Rebecca got her vial. If he survived, imagine just how many other people survived to trigger and change the world.

    One of the biggest and obvious ones, Cauldron is keeping it's capes together to create a team that can synergize well with one another once they are ready to start superheroing. The only ones that you haven't see that are Cauldron capes is Grey Boy and that fucker broke out.

    Because, while Cauldron has a huge overarching reach, I think we can all agree that they... well I'm not going to dance around the fact. They're utterly fucking incompetent to the point that it causes physical discomfort for what they have. There is no justification for Manton going apeshit if both Contessa and Number Man are literally a minute away. His daughter had a disease and she got turned into a case 53. Number Man could give percentages on the spot for any mixture of vial that Cauldron could create. There is no reason that Manton wouldn't have gotten the first 100% or 99.999999999% successful vial he got. The only explanation I can see, is that the Siberian was invented and implemented into the story before Contessa was finalized. If someone else can come up with a reason, I'd love to hear it. But, I found none, so I wrote the world as Cauldron taking steps to control it's capes after the utter failure that Grey Boy was.

    As for the interludes that you linked to, yes, cannon Legend didn't know her power in the beginning. However, that isn't this world as Contessa outright told Alex what her power was to get him on board for his initiation. She told every member of the Founders, secrets breed distrust, and for those that will lead the superhero world, a foundation built on distrust will crumble and be blown sky high like it did in cannon after the Echidna incident. As such, PoV is taking steps to get everyone to trust and support one another. Matthew actively talks to Charles to get him out of the Lab. Charles works day and night with Manton to give him ideas and finalize any research paper he might have. Alex and Rebecca's relationship is living proof that Heroes can live somewhat normal lives even within the system. This is paramount in recruitment. Cauldron is actively trying to build a system where perahumans will be accepted as members of society. They've messed up so far, yes, but that's why Contessa was actively trying to focus Alex's mindset on training so that they wouldn't have a Grey Boy situation with trust. Everyone is monitored, everyone is evaluated.

    Another huge addition is the existence of Oracle. As you guys have guessed, he be broken. His power scares me just as much as Contessa's, but I won't say anything for much.

    As for every other big name, they are here, but just because they are, doesn't guarantee that they will trigger or even be in your side. Staples like Brockton Bay might be utterly different depending on what Alex does. That being said, Africa, China and Australia are still going to be utter hell holes.

    So I'm saying this now. If you have any questions about cannon things, or the world in general, please tag me and allow me to explain. Because, the world is about to open up for you guys and it would be unfair to me to send you guys in blind without at least some knowldge beforehand. I could, and I might for certain situations, but on the whole I am more than willing to explain the world with whatever questions you guys might have.
     
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    • 2.5: In the City that Raised Me
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    • You feel the urge to take a step back, or forward, or up. You know what, you don't know where to go. You're jaw just fumbles over itself as words fail to come out. Rebecca has to put a hand over her mouth to stop a laugh from coming out. The sound freezes you in place and forcibly rips through any resistance it comes across to put a smile on your face as well. You don't do a thing, you just watch Rebecca slowly get over your awkwardness. She's laughing at you, at your failure, at your inability. And yet, you don't mind at all.

    She can laugh her heart out for all you care.

    The moment stretched on as Rebecca slowly makes her way back to normality. Which unfortunately, only leaves you right back where you started. There's an air of silence between you. Both of you shuffling your feet, waiting for the other to speak first. Rebecca looks to the sky and fidgets nervously to herself while you try to force some words out of your mouth.

    "Hey, Rebecca."

    "Yes?" She asks, her attention immediately turning to you.

    You scratch a sore spot on your arm as you try to keep your balance "Be honest with me, are we supposed to be here?"

    Rebecca looks at you skeptically for a second, then her eyes sparkle in realization. "Contessa?"

    You nod and give a nervous chuckle, "I mean, if I was in charge I would be, you know."

    "She hasn't called." Rebecca says.

    You open your mouth but Rebecca rolls her eyes "Alex, Contessa can create the perfect path to victory. There's no way she doesn't know we're here."

    You blink, you had honestly forgotten about that. "Oh, right."

    "You forgot didn't you?"

    "No!"

    Rebecca gives you a flat stare.

    "...yes."

    She rolls her eyes and mutters something to herself. Rubbing a now growing itch on your arm you continue, "So if it's ok to be here," Rebecca's eyes widen as her jaw trembles slightly but you continue, "Do you want to?"

    "Yes." Rebecca says slowly, leaning in, egging you on.

    "Take a walk around? I haven't had the chance since... you know."

    Rebecca stares at you wide eyed as the corners of her mouth start to tremble slightly. Oh crap "I mean, if you want to. We can head back to Cauldron right now if you don't want to waste anymore time with-"

    "No!"

    You give Rebecca a sideways glance, and she tucks a bit of hair behind her ear as she tries her best not to look directly at you. "It's," she hesitates for a second, flashing you a nervous smile, "I would love to just, um, hang out."

    "Great," you say, a little too quickly for your liking. Coughing into your hand you turn away "I mean, what I'm trying to," you sigh and hang your head in defeat "God can I start over?"

    Rebecca tilts her head and shoots a playful smile. She walks over and gives a soft rap on your shoulder as she walks past "We can start over, but we're still going to end up nervous wrecks."

    You shrug and walk up next to her. "Yeah, it was easier for me to talk to you when you didn't have hair."

    Your comment causes her to stumble slightly and start to shake, making your face pale. You throw up a hand in defence "I didn't mean it like that! I mean I'm getting distracted."

    Your voice trails off as it slowly dawns on you: She's laughing, but she's trying to hold it in, leaving her face red and her entire posture screaming for release. You feel your shoulders slump which only makes Rebecca put a comforting hand on your shoulder before gently shoving you away. "Oh stop! I'm just having a laugh," she chokes out between breaths.

    "At my expense." You point out.

    Rebecca flashes a smile that is too delighted for it's own good. You roll your eyes, but it takes most of your self control to keep the smile on your face. Rebecca knows you're trying to hide it, but she says nothing, letting the silence and her smile signal her victory. She takes a step closer, and you let her lead the way through the city that raised you. The city lights illuminate every step, letting you remember every corner in perfect clarity.

    You pass Cyclone Style, a cheap, barely functioning, barber shop that had the horror of hosting the Everett family once in a blue moon. Your father would watch in amusement as Danah found yet another topic to utterly drown poor the poor barbers daughter in in. All the while, Clint would be finishing some textbook for some light reading. You? You would just sit there in the chair hoping things would go faster than last time. But alas, everything would take far longer than it should, and yet you still left with a good cut and a laugh.

    Next door, Rebecca sighs and smiles wistfully as she reads the sign of Beggars Bagels. Between work, school and studying, the store was one of the few places cheap enough to get a somewhat healthy meal for a teen trying to do everything she could. The owner was a kind old lady who was willing to let one or two orders slip her mind a few times a week for when things started to get to hard for her most recurring customer. The next attraction that draws any attention isn't even a building. You feel Rebecca start walking a little faster after she catches sight of a particular set of houses.

    Or, more accurately, the alleyway behind them.

    You felt the confusion slowly creep in. You don't remember Rebecca ever saying anything about it, but she moves faster all the same. Looking in, you catch the dent in the side of the building. You tear your gaze away, but you don't think Rebecca even gives it a sideways glance. It nearly stops you, right then and there. No matter what might have happened, Rebecca would tell you about it in time. So you say nothing and take your place next to her; she looks as grateful as you've ever seen.

    Soon, the buildings and businesses start blending together as you get deeper into the city. The skyscrapers slowly grow in your vision as you approach them. Seeing them again feels almost surprising. You look up at them, but you don't feel small. If anything, it feels like you should be the one looking down on those monumental achievements of engineering. Dozens of skyscrapers, hundreds homes nestled within a hundred apartment buildings, and in each of them, there's someone trying to make a life work: There are families who want to send their children to college; newlyweds hoping beyond hope that the choice they made was the right one; elderly men and woman looking out of their windows with smiles and scowls at how the world has changed. For a second, you feel the waves underneath you push up and suddenly you can barely feel the pavement underneath you.

    You don't, you're still firmly on the ground. Despite the sights, the feelings, there was a message louder than any other.

    "You're not Atlas, you can't hold up the world."

    Clint wasn't doubting you, he was just scared. He didn't want you to get hurt, he was being a concerned brother. You know that, you can feel that.

    So why can't you get it out of your head?

    You feel Rebecca bump into your shoulder, breaking you out of your thoughts. She looks at you, concern written all over her face, as she gingerly reaches for you but stops halfway. She tries to hide a scowl of disappointment, but you doubt that she's aiming it at you. Quickly, she returns to the role of concerned friend. "You ok?" she asks.

    You shake your head. "Not really."

    Rebecca looks around, at the buildings and streets that made up your home, "Is it the walk?"

    "No no no! This is, amazing actually. It's just," you trail off and Rebecca seems to come to a realization.

    "Did you and Clint get into a fight?"

    You shake your head "No, he was just scared."

    "He's a smart guy," Rebecca says, "most brothers would probably say something stupid like 'that's awesome! Kick some ass!'" She says the last part in the most godawful impression of your brother you've ever heard in your life. It honestly makes you snort at the absurdity of it. As the sound comes out, Rebecca pumps her hands in the air and points at you accusingly "See? You're not the only funny one here!"

    "That wasn't funny," you say, but your defense kind of falls apart when you have to force it between breaths.

    "But you laughed." Rebecca counters.

    "Because you sounded like Clint if he was a drunk robot!"

    "Hey!" Rebecca says accusingly, "It got you to laugh, I win here."

    You hold your hands up in surrender. "Yes, I admit it. You win. I bow to the... hell I don't know what to call that voice." A thought strikes you from nowhere, giving you a nice big grin "I'll call it the Rebecca voice."

    Rebecca shoves you to the side, nearly throwing you off your feet and into the street. You throw your hand backward, sending waves in the opposite direction. Dread rushes through you as the number of waves goes far beyond what you expected. Something comes out of the corner of your vision so fast you can barely make out the waves before it hits you. You hear a crack as your head hits, and everything goes black for a second.

    Someone groans, but it sounds hazy and far away. The sound gets closer as time goes on. It gets so close that, wait, that's you isn't it? Something on your head bites into your skull, making you wince. You blindly reach a hand for it, but someone grabs your hand and sets it back down, using their hand to rub it for you. It stings, shooting the feeling through you, but slowly receding as the message continues.

    "Does it hurt?"

    Rebecca? Oh, that's good, she's here. You crack open an eye, and the sight you see is enough to remove all feeling of pain or fatigue. You're in an alleyway, from what you can guess, leaning against a building, with Rebecca next to you. She looks utterly relieved, but that doesn't stop you from noticing that your head was conveniently placed in the crook of her neck. She's smiling, but you feel-

    "I swear I didn't plan this," you say.

    Stupid apparently.

    She has to bite her lip to force back a laugh, "Clearly."

    You get your head up straight, and the pain comes back. It lasts for a second, but it's enough to force another groan out of you. Shaking it off, you glance back at Rebecca, "Did you get the number of what hit me?"

    Rebecca hugs herself and shuffles away. That answers that question. "Sorry," she whispers.

    "No, it's fine. I still don't know how to control," you pause for a second to glance at your hand, "most things really."

    "I still hit you pretty hard."

    "I'm tough, I'll get over it."

    Rebecca rolls her eyes. "Can you go one day without trying to impress me?"

    Your face heats up and you don't have an answer. You look to Rebecca, and wait for something else in you to get lodged in your throat. Something does, but it's a lot colder than you wanted it to be. From the wall, a black hand reaches out of the brickwork. You shove Rebecca out of the way. Waves explode into life from your hands and when you touch Rebecca, and everything happens at once. The air cracks as she's blown away to the other end of the alleyway,and you feel your arm burn as the hand grabs ahold of you. Your wrist screams as the hand pulls you into the brickwork. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of the wall. Something does hit your face, but it sure as hell isn't a wall. It puts a dark spot in your vision and makes your shoulder hit the ground. You barely feel the impact, but you're head still shakes.

    Visions of David in the training ground flood into you, shutting away any pain that might have come from the impact as adrenaline works its magic. Getting to your feet feels effortless, and with only your head screaming, this is still an improvement from what you've had to deal with today.

    You're in a blank, deserted construction room. Ladders, paint rollers, wooden beams and drills litter the ground. There's only one door, which is closed, and no windows. The only light coming through the holes in the ceiling leading to the night sky. Ignoring them, you take a long look at the rooms only other occupant. Black gloves, shoes and a pitch black suit with a matching undersuit and tie. Black fabric with a design of a hand highlighted in red is stretched taut over his face. Just looking at him in that getup makes your skin crawl. He's too still, too poised to be normal.

    You can't read his expression behind his mask as he tilts his head, "Impressive reactions." His voice is muffled by his mask, making it sound rough and raspy.

    "Sorry I didn't stay on the ground," you say.

    He keeps his head tilted, and a broken chuckle makes its way from behind his mask. "Sorry? No my dear pet, I should be thanking you."

    He takes a step forward , his foot connecting with a shadow cast by a ladder. From the ground, several black hands begin clawing out of the ground. That right there is all the evidence you need. He's like you, different, special.

    Superhuman.

    One by one, the fingers sharppen into beastial claws. One blurs into motion, and you feel a single droplet of blood make its way down your arm. You glance down, on the plus side, your arm is still there. The downside is, you don't see the arm that he attacks you with. All you can see is the gash in your arm. You cover it with your other hand as he takes another step forward, another appendage growing out of the shadows. Three more hands take their place beside him, joining the rest and forming an entire ensemble of twitching appendages. You focus and see nothing on the hands, but the man, the room, the waves are blinding.

    The man chuckles as he steps closer. "Do try to fight, they love it when their play things think they can live."

    [] This guy is insane. Forget holding back, throw everything you can at this guy before he has a chance to fight back.
    [] Try and force him down, but don't kill him. Use rocks, waves, anything.
    [] Keep talking to him, don't crazy killers like it when their victims make them laugh? Talk about whatever, just try and keep him distracted until Rebecca gets here.
    [] Break the wall behind you, and get out of here as fast as the waves can carry you. You don't want to hurt him, but you sure as hell don't want to fight him either.
    [] No fighting, no chances, bring the roof down on this guy and try to fly out of here. You're not the best at control, but flying randomly beats dealing with this guy.
    Adhoc vote count started by IKnowNothing on Jul 6, 2017 at 10:28 AM, finished with 43 posts and 26 votes.
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