Happy Box Hater
Warner Street Meeting
God, everyone was fussing over him and he hated it. Jacob was fine! His clothes were fine, and that made this a lot better. A nosebleed could be hidden, once it healed up, as long as he was careful to not let it open again. But everyone was just messing with him like a ragdoll! "S-Stop! I know how to deal with nosebleeds, just give me one second to catch my breath!" he hissed uncomfortably, not enjoying being forcibly positioned by shadowy tendrils.
"If you have something as convenient as just being able to make me completely better, than go ahead," he shot at Irene, keeping his eyes closed because right now even the low light levels were making his headache worse. "Otherwise, please don't mess with me. I've had enough of that." No more powers to make things complicated. Hopefully she wasn't about to actually heal him, that sounded like a quick way to accidental tumors.
Trying to focus on anything other than the pain still coursing through his head, Jacob listened to the conversation going on about powers and stuff. He didn't really follow so well, what with the circumstances and all, but he got enough to hear something about making a list. "All I can explain clearly... about what I do is that if I do it too m-much it makes this happen," he contributed unhelpfully.
Why is a yam attacking me?
Irene - Warner Street Cemetary
Irene's expression turned cold, the warmth draining from it in an instant at Jacob's words.
"Don't make me regret wanting to help you," said she, taking a hold of the boy's chin. The blood was coming out the nose, so she let her hand drift up to it. Beneath her fingers, she sensed the bone, the sinew and muscle. The tongue lying dumbly in the mouth, the blood vessels lending their rosy cast to his cheeks. It'd be so easy to snap something or pull it apart, she knew. She merely needed to apply the will and it would yield. Temptation flickered and died just as quickly.
An cursory examination told her that there was nothing particularly wrong with the boy, save the nosebleed and his headache. The latter she would leave be, she was not confident in her ability to help there, but the former was simplicity itself. She tapped his nose firmly, expressing her annoyance at him, but also knitting shut the breaches in the blood vessels and nasal cavity.
She rose, eyes just as cold as before.
"You're fine."
Edited by joergenjetsam on Nov 12th 2018 at 2:37:08 AM
Conception is sin Birth is pain Life is toil Death is inevitable
Happy Box Hater
Warner Street
The second Irene said that ominous line, Jacob felt like he had made a terrible mistake. And when he actually felt himself get better, at least the nosebleed... well, he got really scared. He had just yelled at a person who could probably ruin his body in an instant, and the worst part was that he'd have been nicer if it wasn't for the damned headache that still wasn't fixed! Facing consequences for something he did deliberately was one thing, but experiencing danger like this for sounding more aggressive than intended was another thing.
He would have asked her to fix the headache while she was at it if it wasn't for the fact that the teenager had some common sense. No way he'd give explicit permission to mess with his head! Just as Irene's face had drained of all warmth, Jacob's visage had paled and took on a grimace reminiscent of someone faced with a terrifying situation.
Just had to play it cool and not show any signs of anger! Don't make her mad! Easy! "Um... I, um, I..." he stuttered out, not sure how to get across the message he wanted. Jacob winced, the still present headache getting slightly worse now somehow. "Thank y-you?" he said uncertainly. Oh god had she done anything to him?! Maybe something small that would only show up years down the line, some tiny biological time bomb? "I mean... Yeah, thanks..."
Why is a yam attacking me?
sword of promised halp
Jemimah Chen; Warner Street, Plus Park
The tall girl's eyes went wide. Her fists clenched and unclenched, and her jaw melted very slowly.
"Man, you had to save this guy from being on fire? That's so cool, Ivy!"
The fact that she had seamlessly transitioned into a first-name basis was probably something Ivy would do best to ignore.
"Hey guys!" waved the tall girl. "I'm Jemimah! Chen! But you can call me Jem!"
With absolutely no regard for the personal space of anyone involved, she walked into the circle, nodded sagely, then walked out when it was clear that absolutely no-one was going to regard her, either.
"So, what's this about powers?" she grinned. "Is this a maths thing?"
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
huzzaaaaaaaah
"I'm sure one of us is, like, super smart or anything and can make a group chat that Ciro's secret agent can't look into." Rose said, waving David's concern away as Ciro!Ed straightened his back and then looked away when he noticed they weren't talking about him. "But then again, there might be no cover to blow because of that!"
The instant she pointed at Jemimah, a voice rang out from the circle. "Jem?" Jae stepped out from the crowd, threading a finger through her hair. "Ah, fuck. I thought I was gonna have some normal place to go apart from all this mess, but now you all roped Jem into it too!"
"You... know her?" Destiny asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, she's, like, a good friend." Jae explained, walking over with her fist raised for a fist bump. "Wait, hold on, this doesn't make ANY sense." Destiny shook her head. "You're—" She pointed at Jae. "—all dark and angry and stuff." She even hunched over and gritted her teeth to exemplify it. "And you—" She pointed at Jem. "—God, I don't think I've ever seen someone smile that much."
"Hey!" Both Ed and Ciro!Ed yelped, the former giving the latter a confused stare.
"Uh." Jae rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "I mean, I don't always hang out with Daigo and all that shit. Sometimes I wanna hang out with other people. I go to this one place behind the school to smoke, and that's where I met Jem, cuz she went there to practice her moves. We talked, I liked hearing her, she showed me this one judo dude on You Tube and we kinda just hung out from there..." Her soft expression gave way to a harsher glare. "I don't need to explain my fucking friendships to you, though!"
Destiny would have replied, until she suddenly snapped her fingers and looked around frantically. "JENNA!" She yelled, rushing over to where her friend's clothes had fallen to the ground. "She... she turned into bugs— not like a mass of bugs but just bugs! Someone, does anyone know where she went?"
"Did you follow the teach's daughter here?" Jae asked Jem, still rubbing the back of her neck.
Edited by Stratofarius on Nov 11th 2018 at 11:03:07 AM
Transcender of Gender
Warner Street Park, Upstaged By Myself
Despite having a good six inches over her, Ciro shrunk back as Rose berated him. "Uh, sorry." he said automatically. Even though he hadn't actually said anything to insult Sebastian's power, nor had he intended to.
Turning his attention back to Jacob, he watched with confusion and a little awe as Irene fixed the boy with a mere tap. Was healing people her power? Or just fixing things? Either way, Ciro felt relief as the blood stopped flowing out of Jacob's nose. Unease quickly followed as he picked up on the tension between the two. Scrunching up the bloodied tissue, he smiled at them both in a way he hoped was light-hearted.
"Thanks, Irene." he echoed, his tone certain and warm. Then he focused again on Jacob. "I imagine you're still not feeling the best. Keep your head forward for a bit, just in case." He went to pat Jacob on the back, but then hesitated, figuring that Jacob might not appreciate it. He lowered his hand at the same time that he turned his eye back to Irene, trying to give her a look that was both sympathetic and pleading. Sorry he was rude, but maybe forgive him since he's cranky from the pain?
"If anyone happens to have painkillers," he called out to the rest of the kids, "or even some water, Jacob would appreciate it." Giving both doctor and patient one last concerned look, Ciro rose to his feet. He was still low-key in panic mode, tunnel-visioning immediately to the next person who might've been hurt by Michal's flame... only to find that the Ed that looked like him had already escorted David to a nearby bench. Yep, still uncomfortable to have someone who sorta looked and sorta acted like him.
Still, at least David seemed fine. Fine enough to talk coherently, at least. Ciro walked over to his next target, tapping Michal on the shoulder once he was within reach. And then retracting his hand in surprise at how warm the shirt's fabric was. Of course, it had just been on fire. The sudden spark of warmth re-ignited his nausea, and for a second he grimaced before he forced back the pain and spoke to the little fire-starter. "You alright, Michal? Did that fire hurt you at all?"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Mentally, Ivy had little idea of how to express that disappointment without sounding like a jerk. To herself.
She released the bucket, a little bit of water sloshing out on impact and decided to take a seat.
"Luna," she said after a long breath, "I think I...sh-shouldn't try to help."
The fact that Jacob was on the ground* and there were more Eds running around than when she last left only made her wonder how awful this was going to get.
Also, she dragged some random person into all of this. She pensively looked up at Jae, and said "S-Sorry, uhh..."
Schrodinger's Human
Hyeon's Gang:
As Nadine sat down next to her, Josephine found it surprising just how comfortable she felt in this place. While this did not match the ease she felt at home, the fear that she felt when interacting with others was mostly absent. She speculated that this was due to being among those who were in a similar situation.
"I'm fine. It's just how I am." Answering Nadine's questions, she observed her surroundings, mostly her superpowered comrades. Listening to Hyeon's singing, she just moved her head slightly according to the melody.
Upon being offered a cigarette, she said: "No, I'm good." To interrupt an awkward silence beforehand, Josephine inquired:
"So, you and Hyeon were..."
Everything that lives is designed to end.
Warner Street Park - Who Turned Out the Lights?
Ivan came to with a small start. He was in... a trance? Something? The last thing he remembered was... Michal spontaneously combusting. Panicking, he'd tried something stupid. Writing in his notes after they'd changed. Added the words "snow put out the fire", then remembered it was the middle of summer, and crossed them out. Then... now? It didn't matter; he put that under the "powers are weird" category, and looked up.
As his peripherals have been telling him, it was... more or less resolved. Ed was trying to convince him he was seeing double, which, while not normal, wasn't too bad. Jacob was hurt, though. Ivan rummaged through his pockets, but came up empty of both pills and water. With his uselessness established, he decided to keep an eye on Ciro, who was walking the path of overextension with the usual gusto. Getting up to move his legs a little, he failed to notice the faint cold wind from the north quiet down to a whisper, then die.
huzzaaaaaaaah
"I'm..." Michal took a deep breath, scrolling through at least fifteen possible adjectives that could describe his current feelings, before eventually looking Ciro in the eye and settling down with a sigh. "... fine." He leaned in, crossing his arms. "I actually feel a little cold..." He lowered his voice to an even tinier whisper. " Did you know Mr. Ivan there can't talk? I asked him a-and I thought he was offended, a-a-and that's why I blew up. It's a reasonable reason... right? -"
He leaned to the side and waved at Ivan. " You think his powers are to write down things and make them happen? " Michal asked Ciro, twiddling his fingers. " You think he's writing and Michal got an injury because he disrespected me or something like that? "
Luna gave Ivy a pensive glance, before turning to the bucket and reaching for its handle. "I think we better keep it around just in case?... I mean, no one can blame you. Turns out, all the kid really needed was a stern talking to." She put on a disgusted emphasis on the word stern, giving Ivy a can you believe it ended like that kind of disappointed look.
Not content in waiting for verbal confirmation of Hyeon's smoking policies, Nadine placed the cigarette on her lips and fished for something in one of her pants' many pockets. She snorted, pulling out a steel lighter and covering the cigarette with one hand, lighting it up with the other.
"Oh yeah, we were a thing. For, like, a while, right?" She half-glanced at Hyeon, throwing the lighter back into her pocket and spreading her legs a little bit, taking a drag out of the cigarette. "But it's been a while. We've both been to greener pastures. Hyeon's grinding against that Amy girl, with the bubbly smile, and I'm looking for a lady to call my own." She smirked at Josephine. "Or as my Mom likes to say it, gal pal."
Blowing away some smoke, Nadine gave Josephine an even more salacious smirk. "Why? You interested on him?" With the cigarette back on her lips, she nudged Josephine on the side, chuckling. "In my opinion, it'd be a downgrade for you, but hey... I fell into that trap a while back, so I can't blame ya."
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Warner Street Cemetery Park
"A group chat could actually work, assuming we're using WhatsApp. It's got end-to-end encryption, so nobody will be able to read our messages unless they actually get one of our phones," Finn pointed out from next to Ivan, continuing to casually thumb through his own device, just as he had been doing throughout the entire boy-on-fire debacle, "Meaning, you people better lock your phones with fucking passwords, unless you feel like compromising us."
"But don't think I'm ever accepting orders from you, Hernandez." The redhead looked up and lifted a finger to point squarely at Rose. "Just because you brought a single meeting together, that doesn't make you some kind of 'leader'. For one thing, you seem to be more concerned with figuring out what our powers are than the fact that Livingston attempted to kill Melissenos earlier today. All we have is a single common goal, and that doesn't require us to have a leader to begin with. As for going to the media, that has to be the most boneheaded idea I've ever heard. They'd eat us alive, and I guarantee at least half the public wouldn't even consider us human and would be fine with seeing us experimented on and dissected. Speaking of which..."
"The government agent Gardner mentioned is going by the name Sarah Travers. She's a tall Asian lady with long black hair, and apparently has a preference for sunglasses. Under absolutely no circumstances should you go anywhere with her, let alone speak with her for any length of time. She also has some kind of small, portable technology that can negate our powers, so be extremely cautious. Dear Principal Shooter is literally conspiring with her, upstanding coward that he is, so I wouldn't exactly call him our friend."
Crossing his arms, he regarded the newcomer, Jemimah, with a skeptical eye, adding her to his growing mental catalogue of aware of the situation. He recognized her as the school's resident musclehead martial artist, which at least made her a known factor. Hopefully they wouldn't need to explain everything all over again for her benefit.
Edited by darksidevoid on Nov 21st 2018 at 1:50:05 PM
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
Transcender of Gender
Warner Street Park, The Ever-Expanding To-Do List
"You don't feel cold." Ciro replied to Michal, smiling weakly as he displayed the hand he'd just tried to place on Michal's shoulder. Weirdly enough, he felt a brief burst of cold himself- though when he followed Michal's wave over to Ivan, and saw that the Slavic boy was looking at them, he wrote off the chill as his body telling him that someone was staring.
He turned back to Michal, and his smile widened as the smaller boy aired his worries. "I think," he whispered back, leaning down so Michal could hear him, "he's writing because he can't talk." Ciro drew himself back to full height, returning to his regular voice. "And what I know is that I just spent a few hours discussing this whole thing with him and Zia. He's not going to hurt you just because you panicked a little, I promise."
"...That said, it wouldn't hurt to go over and offer an apology." He moved a step away from Michal and closer to Ivan, silently encouraging the firestarter to follow. "Don't think about how he might respond, or even too much on what you're going to say; so long as it's genuine, then you'll be fine."
He took another step. Maybe Michal would be fine on his own, but it couldn't hurt to be nearby. It was now that he tuned in to the other ongoing conversations, as Finn was speaking right next to their target. Ciro had plenty of points to offer- like clarifying the situation with Shooter, and describing his own encounter with the power-negator, and getting back to the David vs. Irene issue, and what's WhatsApp?- but it was a lot to divulge while still focused on Michal, and there was the new arrival to think about too, and also he still hadn't got a clarification on Benjy's situation, and there was that strange pile of empty clothes-
He shook his head, told himself to focus on one thing at a time. He wasn't even finished checking that everyone involved with the fire was alright. Before he got any closer to Ivan he stopped next to Simon and tapped the British boy on the shoulder, his lighter manner quickly falling back to worry. "It's Simon, right?" Ciro asked, picking out a name from the few classes they shared together. "Are you okay? I didn't see what happened between you and Michal..."
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Blood Mage Apologist
Warner Street Park
"Ah, shit, sorry Jacob," Sebastian said. He'd never admit it, but did kind of feel a little bit of smug satisfaction at seeing Jacob with a painful nosebleed. Which was a shitty thing to feel, but the guy was kind of a dick. And it wasn't like he was going to die or anything.
After all the chaos had stopped, he glanced around. Rose had been defending him, although he was pretty sure that Ciro hadn't actually been dissing his powers- in fact, Ciro was probably right the thing with Jacob hadn't been the best idea-
Pretty funny, though.
-but anyway he mouthed a thanks at her. Thankfully Jacob was mostly fine now.
He glared at Finn when he snapped at Rose, shadowy tendrils writhing around his wrists like chains- likely in response to his current mood. "Oh, shut up Finn," he snapped. "You don't need to be so rude."
Oooh, you have a backbone now. Intriguing.
The news about... Sarah Travers, was it...? That was pretty bad, he couldn't lie. If she could nullify their powers, they went from weird powerful teenagers with apparently supernatural magic powers to... just weird teenagers.
"It might be hard to keep away from her," Sebastian pointed out (rather thankful that everyone had forgotten about his outburst in the confusion), "considering that if she's working with Shooter, she could probably just ask him to call us up to the office."
"Or corner us on the street," he continued after a breath, "or make our parents make us talk to her. If she's with the government, she's basically got the power to mess us up the second she wants too."
Do we know how the power negater works? Is it ranged, or is it a close-quarters device? Killing her from range or while undetected might be a viable solution- or knocking her out from range, as you squeamish ones are apt to do, Fesxis mused. You should ask Finn.
Edited by Cwest5538 on Nov 23rd 2018 at 6:55:10 AM
Wooze looks at Glass with a 'please take her away' look
Knight Cheesebeam
Warner Street Park
The first thing that popped into Harriet's head when the Whatsapp thing was mentioned was how not-secure it could potentially be. They have the servers, the encryption methods, and would probably bend to a governmental probe once they got suspicious. But she would not mention that. Nobody needed something like that to dampen the mood, not that it was particularly bright to begin with. And power nulling...she entertained a vague thought that hurling Severance into this agent's vicinity would just make it disintegrate. Somehow, that thought was vaguely jarring, even though she never wanted the spear.
Someone loud and none too bright also came into the picture too, and made her feel just the right amount of annoyed to give a very condensed rundown. Could she not see the weird pole weapon, or the even weirder bug man?
"Supernatural powers. Maths also won't apply, probably."
To demonstrate, Severance freed itself from Harriet, rotated it in the air a bit, and 'launched' it near the newcomer. Though maybe it would be less "near" and more "at her foot", giving Harriet a moment of silent panic as the rear end closed in.
Timers to measure time, thermometers to measure thermomets, mometers to measure mom, and measuring containers to measure measurements.
One Brunch Man
Casa Del Jung
Hyeon frowned a little as Benedict’s attitude somehow managed to sour Alice Cooper’s next rollicking guitar segment, shoving his own phone to slide forward on the counter while simultaneously taking the bowl and eggs as Benedict offered them. “You have to be the only guy I know who can get this worked up while making brownies, you know that?” He said with a shake of his head, leaving the boy to appreciate their carefully-laid plans involving not-getting-caught going up in gunsmoke while he peered into the living room.
He was immediately struck as he watched Nadine light up a cigarette and exhale in one smooth, practiced motion, leaving a layer of smoke to creep up toward the ceiling and into the room above—as if returning to a comfortable, if forlorn, home. The second thing that he noticed, even as his hackles raised toward the first, was that Josephine was definitely not doing that, not even going for it just the tiniest little bit, which was just like a narc. Rather than any words that Nadine could appreciate, Hyeon shot a whistle out of the side of his mouth, fixing on the moment that Nadine would move to take another breath. A rush of air, a flash of fur, and a buzzing squeak would be Nadine’s only warnings before Kwang would whip by her face, snatching the cigarette straight out from between her lips. He would come to a stop on the coffee table adjacent to the couch, his tail marking his trajectory behind him as he would settle into a two-fold gymnast’s bounce, before coming to a rest on his hind legs with his nose teasing the air at a job well-done.
“Apparently, it’s been at least long enough that you’ve forgotten the house rules,” Hyeon would say, making an overdramatic sweep toward the squirrel in question, who was momentarily clutching the cigarette between his front paws like a scene from an absurdist Norman Rockwell painting. “And look at that, you’re corrupting the little guy! If you’re that bored, watch a movie.” He would finish off with a wink, gesturing to a glass display case full of such next to the living room’s TV. “You’ve been here before, you remember what’s good. Don’t worry about us, this’ll be a minute.”
While Hyeon spoke, Kwang placed the cigarette back into his mouth before bounding forward, over to a sideways box of Pop-Tarts on the coffee table’s surface that he had colonized sometime during the night, assorted bedding and miscellanea visibly sticking out past the open cardboard flaps. After a moment of sniffing, poking, and prodding, Kwang would eventually settle on placing the unlit end of the cigarette into an open section between cardboard seams on the box’s “roof”, before bounding around the front of the box and slipping inside—inadvertently posing the skyward-pointing, lightly-smoldering end like a miniature chimney. Poking his head out of the front of the box like a great rectangular turtle, Kwang’s eyes would then settle, half-closed, as he drank in the cigarette’s ambient heat.
Hyeon turned back to Benedict, figuring he’d given the boy’s super-brain enough time to process how super-screwed they were. “We’re making it this way for a few reasons,” he said, momentarily ignoring the cluster-fudgery on his phone in favor of the normal fudgery stewing on his stovetop. “For one, it’ll last a lot longer, so if it takes any time for your mojo to kick in, we’ll have more of a window. Second, it’s more mild than when you hit it raw, so if you end up having a bad reaction, it won’t end up like a repeat of this morning.” He leaned in, sneaking a whiff of the butter and the cannabis congealing into one, gooey mess. “But honestly? The best part about doing it this way? It’s fucking. Delicious.” He then turned back toward the other boy, one sudden, suspicious eyebrow arching over his face. “You have actually worked in a kitchen before, haven’t you? Benedict Tudor?” He asked, purposefully drawing out the boy’s family name.
Edited by Uncandescent on Nov 29th 2018 at 1:16:14 PM
If I had that kind of power, I'd have dropped a meteor on your house ages ago~
sword of promised halp
Jemimah Chen; Warner Street Park
The tall girl broke out into an even wider grin, which was actually rather alarming once you stopped to think about it. She grabbed Jae by the shoulders and swept her into a soul-crushing hug.
"Jae-jae! How's it hanging? Still chilling with that Diggo gang person or whatever his name is?"
It was at that point that Severance impaled itself slightly to the right of her left toe... although whether or not Jem had in fact moved was anyone's guess. The tall girl peered over the top of Jae's head, twiddled the spear with two toes, gasped, then took two steps back.
"That..."
Her face was bone-white. Her lips were pale. Her eyes were wide-open, as if she finally took in the magnitude of the situation. It was a stunning change.
"That is so awesome! Supernatural?! Would the pointy bit make my toes go flying? Where does it go when you're not slinging it around? Did you always want a magic spear, or nah? What's your name, Stabby Girl?"
The fact that she was expostulating over the top of Jae's head, and that her grip on the other girl was not loosening in the slightest, were perhaps unfortunate consequences of her mounting excitement.
"Oh my God, that man's a bug! Woohoo!"
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
Warner Street Park - E Pluribus Unum
Fortunately, Ciro was holding up. Ivan would find a way to get him to rest later; it was bad form to let your saviour flop, after all. Some sleep would do most people in the park some good, but given the number of incidents mounting after only a day, that was low on the priority list. Come to think of it, tallying everyone's priorities would be useful. He'd have to find a way to figure it out that didn't involve literally reading their minds. Maybe if it were an emergency... but no, even putting aside his moral obligations, Ivan understood the risks of letting one person know everything. For the sake of the group, there'd have to be some secrecy.
To that end, he opposed the idea of a group chat. Mostly. In case of emergency, it could be incredible. In every other way, it was bad news. If one of them was found, pretending to be them wouldn't be too hard. Not to mention them spilling the beans on everything they've been told so far. Signing a quick "Don't need phones if they get people" to Finn, he flipped a new page in his notebook and started writing, then scribbled what he was writing out. He pre-emptively flinched, then relaxed as his head decided not to explode on him like it did last time he crossed out his words. With a quiet sigh-like exhalation, he ripped the page out, stuffed it in his pocket, and took notes on what people knew on the next page, paying the most attention to the conversation he had so far.
Ivy mirrored that look, because she definitely felt it. "A ssstern talking to? Really? Just...that's kind of...dumb." She had a few more feelings to express about this topic, which she hopefully communicated with her Are-You-Kidding-Me stare at Michal, but kept them to her self for the moment.
She listened in on Finn's talk with worry evident on her face. Yes, because of the government agent, but also because of the hidden cost of online chatrooms: drama. Something that she felt was dangerous enough without the users having incredible powers, let alone with.
Ivy was also not the kind of person to speak up against others, so she kept quiet.
The part where she didn't was when Jemimah or whatever her face was, she spoke and she spoke in ways that were only cementing her bizarre, almost unbelievable ignorance. "...He's been standing in f-front of you the whole time," she told her, "why didn't you see him unless you actually didn't a-and I didn't mean that."
Resting now. Leaning on the nearest tree. Facing away so the sudden new entrant doesn't see my face- what the hell is wrong with keeping some security on this secret society? Suppose I couldn't expect better from a bunch of kids, even if I am a kid. Things are cooling down over there. 'Oh my god he's gonna eat me'? That's gratitude for you. Wasn't as if I was biting into his neck like a vampire. Just grabbed him and sucked some of the heat out through my skin somehow. Now some of that heat's inside me, broiling away, wanting a release. Should be fine as long as I take my breaths...wait for it to cool down...
tap tap
INTERRUPTION. Tension going up. Turn around...calm down. Just some guy, one of the guys from my class. Wondering what happened between me and..."Michal?...Oh, right, yeah, the uh...flaming guy. I dunno, I um...think I took the edge off or something? Powers 're...something about sparks.... L-Look, I don't get...half of what's going on here."
This doesn't just need saying to him. I step forward, closer to the group, everyone gets to hear this. Still not making eye contact with the newbie, not letting her see my face until I can trust her...or anybody.
"Words cannot express how much I do not want any part of this craziness. But at this stage, I'm getting the feeling that while I'm done with it, this is not done with me. I'm finding out now that I'm wanted by...by the fracking government, or something? A-And the principal's in bed with it, so I basically can't trust any authority outside my own home, if that. Also, I'm not, uh, entirely comfortable, standing as the same park as killers/attempted killers? But if the governments gonna be gunning for me like they're gunning for them, then I'd kinda like to know about that. So fine, add me to your group or whatever. Ping me any time I'm about to find an FBI van coming down the street. Just leave me be apart from that, and I'll be golden. ...Are we sorted?"
Schrodinger's Human
Casa Del Jung
“I have no interest in him,” she said quietly to Nadine. The quietness was due to her natural tendency, instead of a wish to not be heard by Jung Hyeon.
Josephine could not say the same about Nadine. The fact that she took an interest in her would have made her smile more brightly than ever before. However, no matter how hard she tried, Josephine was unable to do so. The chains that prevented her from embracing Nadine fully was the past. The memory of betrayal still seemed fresh as if it occured only a day ago. Back then, the girl had accepted the bait that was coated with love and friendship, never knowing what it would lead to.
If to condense this story, Josephine once accepted confession of love that did not hold any genuinity. It was a deliberate ruse from her bullies to find more reason for their bullying. The girl realized this too late.
Barely preventing herself from breaking down, Josephine looked down, playing with her fingers. While she definitely wanted to hang out with her new found friend, the scar from the past held her back. Even so, creating a smile that had at least some genuinity in it, she said:
“Still, I would like to hang out with you all.”
Everything that lives is designed to end.
huzzaaaaaaaah
Hearing such jubilant noises being made because of him prompted Benjy to suddenly stand up, but upon realizing the difference in height between him and Jem, he promptly leaned down. "Helllooooo..." He muttered, smiling and chattering happily as if he was a cat. "Nice to meet yyyyoouuuu..." He would have raised his hand, but it was currently covered in a liquid that was proving to be far too acidic for the plants below.
"Yeah." Rose grumbled, looking at the situation with a disappointed expression. "We're sorted. I'll send the invite to everyone... everyone who has a phone that can handle this app, that is. All we have to do is lay low and cause absolutely no problems until we're free for the summer. Everybody got that?"
There was a time where Ivy wondered if her nights could ever stop being boring and start being something else. Exciting, strange, maybe even frightening, she didn't care what, she just felt the days blending together at the seams, each one being little more than an interval before going back to school. She feared that, given time, it'd be the same, but replace "school" with "work"...
By now, Ivy had gotten her wish, 'cause it was all of the above.
Positive part was that she got to talk to her friend (singular) again. Things could be better, though...
Ivy stepped foot into her house, coming in from the warm night. Naturally, her little dog was there to greet her, but she didn't care enough to stoop down and answer its excited spinning and shaking. No, tonight, she didn't want to stay up late. Hell, she'd go to bed immediately...
...following some dinner.
She had been kind of tied up all day, so sue her for forgetting to eat.
Having to weave her steps with calculated, but entirely mindless precision as the doggie danced around her feet like it always did, she slowly made her way to the kitchen, where something edible probably, hopefully waited for her.
It was late and Mom was probably either asleep or grading, and Dad wasn't coming home for an hour or two, so she was effectively by herself.
She opened the fridge with little interest, but a bit more disappointment as she saw that it was mostly empty.
Ivy stared at it, like something would appear if she wished hard enough.
...and she kept staring.
The back of the fridge, the white plastic interior, had...something.
She knew there wasn't anything she'd miss by looking at it more, but there was something that couldn't help but draw her eye about the bland, off-white with age interior. Something that she found herself staring at for an uncomfortably long time.
A great feeling of anticipation built up within her.
Then, she reached back, and grasped at it with her fingers. The whole panel seemed to simply fall off, revealing the machinery behind it...
Time had passed.
The interior of the kitchen was now a bit colder.
Wires and black piping sprawled all over the floor, some seemingly without purpose, all extending from the thing that used to be a fridge. What little food that could be found in there had been messily scattered over the kitchen as if in a rage, and the smearing of oil, lubricant and leftover spaghetti sauce that Ivy had on her didn't leave her much better.
Her fingers finally started to slow down, drawing themselves away from her latest creation. The glazed look in her eyes gave way to a relaxed feeling, one of pure satisfaction, as she slowly withdrew from her trance.
She slumped against the counter, nestled among black cables. Her coat was flung somewhere minutes...or, hours ago? She couldn't tell.
At the moment, Ivy really could only look at this device with a euphoric feeling of happiness.
A sound emphasized Ivy's triumph, but perhaps it wasn't a sound she wanted to hear: the creak of a door, and the sound of heavy footsteps. Heavy adult footsteps. The sounds grew louder and louder until they stopped, signifying the arrival of Ivy's father. One of his hands was resting above the shoulder bag he always took to work, and the other was halfway through loosening his tie a little. Both of them stopped as his eyes slowly processed what was happening inside the kitchen, and from the way his lip curled and his hand went for his pocket, it might have given a hint that he thought they had just been ransacked.
But the image of his daughter, in the middle of that mess, covered in the byproducts of that mess made him stop again, and whisper a single thing in complete disbelief. "... Ivy?" He said, his hands falling to his side, unsure of what to do. His eyes traveled from daughter to fridge, fridge to daughter, and eventually stopped on the latter, disbelief giving in to confusion. "What... what did you do to the fridge?"
Ivy looked up at her dad with a dumb look on her face, looking him firmly in the eye.
...wait a minute.
"...Dad?" That strange feeling almost visibly drained out of her, the color in her face going along with it. "D-Dad?" Her legs started to push herself away from him, weakly trying to find footing in the mess of the kitchen floor. "D-DAD, I CA—OW"
In trying to pull herself off the ground, she slid up against the counter she laid against and managed to bump herself on the head. She fell back down to the ground.
"Sweetpea?!" Larry's reaction was immediate: he dropped his bag and slid forward, landing on his knees and caught her before she fell to the ground. Immediately, he pulled his daughter closer to him and further away from the counter, and whatever that thing was. "You alright? Talk to me, sweetpea." Ivy considered writhing free, but with everything going on - her head, her confusion, her fear that felt stronger than ever - she was almost limp as he pulled her away from the fridge.
She sputtered out a few incoherent things, constantly looking between him and what remained of the fridge. She couldn't even make him out that well past the smear of mechanical grime on her glasses, which only got worse as tears welled up in her eyes, and her stomach turned.
The first audible thing she said was "I-I d-d-didn't m-mean—"
"Shhh." Larry hushed, caressing the injured spot until he was sure that nothing bad had happened. "Calm down. You just hit your head. It's not gonna help anyone if you keep stammering or trying to explain..." He looked back at the fridge and sighed. "... though you will have to explain, because there's a part of me asking just what the hell is going on there."
Unfortunately answers weren't really forthcoming from Ivy. She buried her face into his shoulder, not caring how her glasses slipped off and fell to the floor, and continued to try and hold back tears. She was doing remarkably well, but her pained sobbing began to get louder...
More footfalls joined in, these ones much more rushed. Tracy Havilland almost ran into the room, already worried by the sound of her daughter crying, and similarly went pale in the face. She was dressed in her nightgown, obviously having just been woken from bed, and it took her a moment to respond.
"Lawrence, what the fuck..."
Larry did a 'cut it out' motion when the dreaded four-letter word came out of her lips. "Tracy." He whispered, turning his body to her as he cradled Ivy with the ease of someone who had done this many times before. One hand caressing the back of her head, easing her into his shoulder, the other wrapped around her body to assure that he was here, to protect her from whatever was causing her to react like that.
"Ivy, sweetpea, what's going on?" He whispered into Ivy's ear, his voice dripping with a father's warmth- though his eyes glanced from Tracy to the fridge and back, as if asking her to give her take on what that thing was supposed to be.
"You can talk to us." He continued, his voice peaking a little on the 'us', dark images absorbed from TV shows about runaway teens popping into Larry's mind.
Ivy slowly stopped sobbing, keeping her face where it was...and soon enough, she stopped responding at all. In fact, aside from shivering, she was entirely still.
Tracy reached her hand in underneath her husband's, trying to pull up Ivy's face. If Luna was familiar with Ivy's tendency to just shut down, her parents were the experts on it. Tracy pulled her hand away, giving her as much space as she needed.
"I...can."
Ivy tried to push away from her father, but only halfheartedly.
"J-J-Just...h-h—give me a...m-mo—minute."
More time passed.
It was an uncomfortably silent ten minutes. The three of them had made their way over to the living room, Ivy had a blanket draped over her shoulders and most of the dirt on her body wiped away by the careful hands of her mother. She was hunched over a cup of something warm, staring at her parent seated across from her. To say that they seemed concerned was an understatement.
Still shivering, Ivy looked...better, at least.
The whir of that new machine droned in the background, making the silence all that much worse.
"...Ivy...please." Tracy herself wasn't sure how to process it. In that period of time, every scenario imaginable had been passing through her head, and she didn't like any of them. "Are you...okay now?"
"...N-No."
Ivy took a nervous sip of her drink.
"...I...something...happened at school. I d-don't know what."
Larry gave Tracy a look, a look that he had given her before, during the many times when they had brought up the "what ifs" surrounding their daughter- the usual worries that clouded the mind of a parent whose daughter was about to take a step forward into a new life- and for a moment, the look almost shifted into one of despair, as if all those worries had suddenly been confirmed. But Larry had made an extensive research on the subject. He hadn't just read articles on drug addictions or teen pregnancies, he had also read articles on how to actively talk about these things.
Which is why he clasped his hands and leaned forward. "Ivy, we— I just want you to know, whatever happened, we won't judge you, okay?" He looked at Tracy for confirmation. "We're your parents, and we love you, a-a—and if you think you did something bad, then, uh- telling us, that's the right thing to do. We can help you, and we are going to help you, okay?"
"Just, please-" Larry almost looked like he was getting ready for the worst. "-tell us what happened."
"Whatever...just...whatever it is, Ivy," Tracy said, "We love you. We won't stop loving you." One could tell that she was speaking with the warmest voice she could put on in this situation. She briefly moved, as if to go over and reach for her daughter, but Ivy almost instantly recoiled. She stopped in her tracks.
"I-I d-d-d-don't un—know what ha—I just d-don't know...but..."
Ivy had been racking her mind with every possible way she could explain the strange thing in the kitchen, no matter how outlandish. Even if she was desperate enough, which she definitely was, she just couldn't imagine her parents accepting any explanation. Even the real one.
In between sharp breaths, she looked at her father. "I...made that. It's like...l-like..."
Larry breathed in, readying himself for what was sure to be a life-changing revelation. Was his daughter hanging around with the wrong crowd? A voice in his head cried out to the heavens, asked where he had failed, how could he have let his daughter fall so low, only for a second voice to accuse the first voice of not paying attention to the articles, that this would only make things harder for Ivy, whilst the third voice told everyone to stop and listen to what Ivy had to say.
She pointed behind herself. "Th-the guy that...you know...makes a—the robot suit, in—the red robot suit guy f-from the movies?" She winced at her own words.
And the revelation itself made everything silent.
"... like... I-Iron Man?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at Tracy. She scrunched her face up in confusion. Was this code? Was she trying to tell him something only he would get? Okay, Iron Man... he was an alcoholic. Was she an alcoholic? There were better ways of saying that, and it sure made no sense when considering her previous statement, about her making the machine. "You... made that thing? And that makes you... Iron Man?"
Larry stared at his daughter in silence. "What?"
"Y-Yeah. Th-that guy."
Aside from being terrified, Ivy also felt very stupid right now.
Tracy was just as confused. Considering what she last remembered, going to bed, she was entirely ready for this to all be a dream that she'd just forget the moment she woke up. If it wasn't, though, she had a similar notion to her husband. "...Ivy, you d-don't need to try and make it sound nicer. We're...listening, right, honey?"
"No, no, n-n-n-no." Ivy slumped further forward. "It's...okay, I...I can't show you, but...I can...m-m-make things. Ga—inventions, l-like—"
"Ivy, what does that mean? Please, we're trying to help, we want to help, but you can't—"
"THAT"S—I m-m-m-meant it like...that. It's..."
She...started to mime something, something circular by the shape of her hand and undulating by the way it moved in front of her. "There w-was a thing at school y-yesterday. It...did something to me, and n-now I...have..."
Not only did it sound insane, but there was a firm part of her mind that reminded her how absolutely insipid and cliched it sounded. But, there couldn't be any other way to describe it...
"...A-A-Abilit...ies...?"
There was an exchange of glances between Larry and Tracy. "Ivy, sweetpea, are you doing drugs?" He asked suddenly, being immediately taken aback by his own suddenness. "I mean, look, no, no judgement— no, wait, I don't mean absolutely no judgem— I also don't mean we don't love you, I just— Ivy, please, tell us what's going on so we can help you with whatever the next steps need to be."
"...It's...n-n-no, no, no, it's all...it's aaa-a-a-alright, I'm, I'm, nnnnnnot..."
Ivy's mind froze, threatening to retreat into itself again.
There was a look, almost defeated, that Ivy saw on her mother's face as she looked up at her. "Ivy, if you...have ever done that, we still..."
"NO. NO, NO." Ivy suddenly straightened like a rail, speaking with more clarity than she had at any point before. "I-I'VE NEVER DONE THAT, I just...trying to tell the truth, and, it's...it's not easy, and, I can't even think of how to p-put it, but, it's...it's exactly like that! I'm not tripping, I'm telling you the truth, and..."
...what was she holding?
There was something in her hands now that wasn't there a moment ago.
From Tracy and Larry's perspective, she had started shouting and then simply stopped, even more solidly than before. She had picked up the TV remote from the table in front of her. Then, without even looking down, she had suddenly started to take it apart with nothing more than her bare hands. With her fingers moving at almost inhuman speed, parts and circuits sliding in and out of each other like they didn't truly exist, and now what she was left with was something sleek, that gleamed of metal and was lit a dull red at the end. Then, after another emotionless pause, she looked down and seemed very confused.
For them, it was about two minutes. For her, she didn't even register the time.
Tracy summed up her feelings like so: "...W-W-What the...hell?"
Larry, by now, was gripping Tracy's hands, seeking the support of his partner as he tried to figure out just what the hell was going on. The situation that unfolded before them didn't help. He observed it all, dumbfounded and incapable of doing anything to even stop his daughter. Did he want to stop her? Should he stop her? None of the articles talked about what to do when your daughter suddenly started reconstructing your television remote right in front of you.
Something had to be done. He held his arms out, as if calming down a ferocious animal, and slowly started getting up. "Sweetpea, put down... put down the remote, please."
Ivy looked between him and the remote, dumbfounded, blinking as she tried to piece it together.
"I...I don't know what you m-mean."
"You went quiet, and your face just stopped moving and all the while you made that with your hands, you just turned the remote into... into that thing." Larry said, now slowly moving to Ivy's side. "Put it down. So we can help you, okay, sweetpea?"
Tracy couldn't do much more than stare at her daughter, like there was something else wearing her skin sitting where she once was. It was going to take a while for this to parse.
Ivy gave a long, uncomfortable look at the remote, not caring as her father drew closer. With the utmost care, like it was a newborn, she placed it on the coffee table. Its end glowed brighter for a moment before growing dim. Nothing came to Ivy's mind right now...except for one word. She pointed at the thing she had just made, with a trembling finger and an equally uneasy face. She tried her best to smile, and she squeaked out "A-Ability..."
Larry sat besides Ivy, placing his hands around her shoulders, trying his best to not think about the thing on top of the table at that moment.
"Sweetpea. When you mean abilities, what are you talking about? Something happened to you and you can just... make things?" He sucked in some air, scratching the back of his head. "You sure, uhm, you sure you're not... You didn't take anything from anyone? A friend? Someone you want to impress?"
Tracy leaned forward, staring her husband right in the eyes. "Dear...how do you take something to make you do...do that?"
"Well, I... I don't know!" Larry looked at Tracy, holding back the urge to just throw her hands in the air, as those hands were busy 'comforting' Ivy. "What other explanation do you have for what she just did? I mean, she even brought up Iron Man, and he... he had a... a problem with..."
A look of realization washed over Larry's face. He stared down at his daughter's face, five seconds from freaking out. "Ivy, do you... are y-y—you saying y-you have... s-superpowers?"
Ivy couldn't do much else but sink into her father's arms. She felt all of this coming down on her, and she felt very, very tired...
"...Y-Yeah?"
"Are you... the only one... w-who got superpowers?"
Yet another long pause. Ivy was fully aware of what had been talked about this night. There were people watching them already, and if they had been aware of it this fast, they had a deep connection with whatever happened. If she spoke now, would her parents...
...Alright, she had already spoken, so that much wasn't going to change. Her concern laid with her and her friends...
...Friend? All of these other people, she didn't know, and she wasn't going to throw complete strangers under the bus. That is, you know, if this was doing that. But at the same time, if something happened and she had to suddenly up and leave...people were already interacting with her. Talking with her. What incredible force would cause that to happen, if not for powers? Would they believe it?
Her friend...was strong. She was much stronger than her, and she couldn't imagine her getting hurt. Even if she had abandoned her once, she couldn't imagine her doing that again. Not if they were in the same boat.
So, it was settled.
"I know Luna did," she quietly replied.
"...Do you—"
"Luna B-Black."
Tracy realized it pretty quickly. "So...that was why you were talking to her again."
"...Yeah."
"Luna. Luna..." Larry let the words linger on his mouth, looking around, and only seemed to connect it when Tracy brought up the two were talking again. "Your friend? From long ago?" He almost slapped his own forehead. "God, it's been so long." Even in this situation, Larry couldn't help but chuckle.
"You were so small when you two met. I remember like it was—" He gulped, looking back at his daughter. "Not the time." He nodded, caressing her shoulder and leaning in, giving her a genuine tiny smile (perhaps the excitement of a reawakened bond was stronger than his fear of what entailed). "Could... could we talk to her?"
He slowly raised a finger to Tracy. "Not to her parents. To her." Larry clasped his hands. "If I have my comic books correctly, some people like to keep it a secret."
"D-Don't, don't...think about it like..."
Ivy sighed, and reached up to rub at the spot she had bumped earlier. It was starting to hurt, and she didn't really care that she could feel oil coming off of her fingers. "It's...se-serious. I don't want to think about it like that, I-I've b-been...scared the whole time since then. I don't know what's g-going on, th-th-there's people following us—"
"Following you?" Tracy's concern only rose at that, and she finally got up to go sit beside her daughter. She started massaging her bruise for her, getting Ivy's arm to fall limply at her side. "Ivy, was that...the police, the explosion, other things like that, was all of this because of...?"
"...L-Luna...can help explain..."
"I'm sorry, I know you probably want to get right into it, but I just wanna say-" Larry said as Luna entered the Havilland household, shaking a little inside her giant jacket. "-I'm so glad you and Ivy are talking again. I always thought- no, I always knew, y'know- you two had something, and Ivy always had a lot of fun when you were around, and— to be honest, I thought maybe, maybe she was going to 'hang out' with a different crowd but now you're here so... everything's good?"
Luna blinked and let her lips curl upwards in a confused fake smile. "Everything's good, Mr. Havilland."
Larry patted her in the shoulder, and she slid away from his grasp, turning towards Ivy with a narrowed glance. "Dude, you told them?! I thought we were going to keep it a secret!"
Ivy reeled backward at the sudden hostility, though she could understand it. She offered a very weak verbal defense, "I-I, uhhhh..."
...alongside some strong physical evidence. She took Luna a few steps further into her house, where she could point to the towering, sprawling new invention that was anything but subtle. "...That h-happened."
"Jesus fuuuuuu..." Luna trailed off, and she glanced behind her at Larry and Tracy- the former currently holding the latter's arm and muttering some words of encouragement- before burying her face in one of her hands. ".... uuuuuiiiine. Okay, okay, you couldn't have... right, they saw it, and— shit, Ivy. We really did not prepare for this at all, did we."
Shoving her hands in her pockets, Luna sighed and turned around, pointing at Ivy's parents. "Okay, sit down!" Her finger made Larry wince and hold onto Tracy, and Luna made a point of raising her other hands defensively. "No, no, sit down in, like, a calm and controlled manner, because... because I'm gonna show you something amazing."
"BUT." She glared at the two, leaning in. "You two gotta keep it quiet. We're not saying that because we want to keep it a secret, we're saying it because we have to keep it a secret. What you're gonna see goes against every science book that's ever been written, and for our safety- me and Ivy's- this cannot get out. Do I have your word, Mr and Ms Havilland?"
"Alright." Larry nodded. "We won't say a word."
Luna took a step back and took of her jacket, revealing a sleeveless black shirt underneath. "Uh, you're gonna want to get your electronics as far away from me. Trust me, I, like, fried my phone and stuff." She waited until Larry finished putting his bag on the other side of the room and returned to his seat. "Now, I've only been doing this for two days so... sorry if it's not as flashy as it could be."
Ivy leaned down to scoop up the family dog, out of fear that his careful observation of Luna might bring him too close to danger. Also, she just had to say something...
"...You're just doing this to show off, you know." There was a weary smirk on her face.
"And why wouldn't I be, Ivy?"
With a deep breath, Luna pressed her two hands together and closed her eyes. She clenched her teeth, furrowing her brow as if something had just pierced her gut, until suddenly, her eyes shot open, now exhuming pure electricity. She started spreading her hands, bolts of lightning arching from finger to finger, from hand to hand, until they formed one long current in between them. Finally, she clapped her hands, and the lightning went away, bringing her back to normal.
"So, yeah." Luna shrugged, putting her hands back in her pocket. "We've got superpowers."
Tracy stared, aweful and fearful, before she responded "...Yes, that's...that's a superpower, alright." It seemed like the most diplomatic thing she could come up with, her mind blanking on phrases that didn't include some kind of curse. Larry would have said something... if his jaw wasn't on the floor.
"Ain't much else to explain there," Luna said, walking closer. Larry tensed up, but Tracy and Ivy (and the lil' doggie) stood their ground. "But...everything else is gonna be a while. You got something to eat while I'm here?"
Ivy, once again, pointed at the fridge device. "...I kinda...messed it a—trashed all of it."
"...Would it be a problem to order take-out?"
Edited by Stratofarius on Dec 4th 2018 at 8:12:39 AM
huzzaaaaaaaah
"This is getting way too confusing." Agent Esther Byun muttered, glaring at the giant whiteboard filled with pictures, strings and magnets that had been laid out in front of her. She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to scratch her hair through her hijab for what felt like the fifteenth time in the previous five minutes. "It's almost 3AM. We need to go."
"We can't." Agent Longhorn replied from his chair, leaning against the wall, feet propped up on the only table in the small, cramped room. It had been divided into piles of photos/files, and piles of empty food wrappers, along with a small laptop which Longhorn was using to watch The Late Show with Kristen Bell. "Director told us to get this whole thing sorted out by tomorrow."
"He's been in power for, what, two weeks?!" Byun growled, throwing down a yellow folder and watching as blurry photos spread across the floor. "Fuuuuck." She hissed at herself, kneeling down to grab picture after picture of Zia, wearing a bulletproof vest and evading attention from others. In fact, that's what all the pictures in the whiteboard were: of the Oldport teens, each one in a state of distress, or unaware that they were being observed.
Some of them even had large X's scribbled over them, but their faces were obscured by strings connecting the pictures to images of abandoned buildings, partly destroyed skyscrapers and other visages of destruction.
"Goddamnit, when I started my career- no, just,just five years ago, you know what I was doing?!" Byun growled, pointing at Longhorn, who didn't take his eyes off the TV. "I was looking for missing kids. I was doing the good work! But now I'm hunting these... these freaks and... what am I even supposed to do with that? We get close to them, but then they run away. We capture one, but then he escapes. There's... I don't know, thirty three, thirty FOUR of those weirdos out there—"
"Twenty eight." Longhorn corrected, not looking up from his laptop.
"—twenty eight of them, but they're either well-known public figures we can't touch, or underground assholes we can't find. If the FBI wants these people captured, why don't they make them public?!"
Longhorn sighed and closed his laptop. "Look, I get it—"
"Do you?" Byun pointed at him with the folder. "Five years ago, you were smoking so much weed you don't even remember what you did for two whole years, Longhorn."
"—still, I get it." Longhorn clasped his hands, standing up. "People are scared. They think some of these guys are dangerous and they don't know about all of them." He pointed at some of the X-ed out pictures (Lenore and Vivian were visible over some string). "If they did, do you know what would happen?"
"We'd get an actual good Director, one that isn't a double agent like Barclay?"
Longhorn leaned in, gripping Byun by the shoulders. "Have you seen the news lately? The last thing the ghouls in power right now need is a terrified population. Because they're gonna use it as an excuse to change everything for the worse, and don't give me that face because you know I'm right." He crossed his arms, sighing. "If we do this right, we'll tell everyone that people like Brayne are just well-equipped terrorists and everyone's gonna go back to their normal lives."
"None the wiser." Byun whispered.
"That's what we want. A person is smart, Byun. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it."
Byun blinked once, twice, and then pointed a finger right at Longhorn's nose. "That's from Men in Black!"
"Okay, okay, I wanted to sound smart, alright?!" Longhorn waved her finger away, turning to the whiteboard. "Now let's order some more food, restart this whiteboard and figure out exactly what the new Director wants us to figure out." He grumbled, and when Byun nodded, he started removing some pictures from the whiteboard.
"You've got an idea of where we can re-start?"
Once the board was empty, Longhorn reached into the pile of photos and pulled out one that had been mis-printed. "We start with a date." He said, turning it around and holding out his hand. "Pen, please." Something touched his hand, and he brought it to his face, looking down to see that it was... a pair of scissors. "I said pen—"
"I know what you said." The cheery voice cut through Longhorn's concentration, and he promptly spun around in his heels to face the newcomer. Accompanied by his Caucasian Ovcharka
◊ (on a leash and panting around like usual), Director Naveen Pandya
stared back at Longhorn, the top half of his face emotionless, while the latter half of his face displayed a small smile, especially as Longhorn mimicked Byun, slipping into a straightened back and a military salute. Director Naveen (as he insisted to be called) had only been in control of the Post-Human Division for two weeks, but he had been in the original shortlist for Director, before the FBI came to choose Simon Barclay.
He was well-built, though you couldn't tell by looking at him and his (rather lackluster) suit and tie combinations. If anything, some thought he looked rather sickly. Naveen had no doubts that these ideas were also because of his prosthetic arm- advanced as though it may be, people would take just one look at the black metal sticking out of his right sleeve and immediately ascribe some sickness to his past. He never rebuked it, though, especially because people would always then Google his name and be astounded by his history as a sharpshooter in the US Military... by the part they got to his two Distinguished Service Crosses, they were all ready to kiss his ass, anyway.
Naveen popped one of his earbuds out, and the music he had been listening to
softly echoed out of them. "At ease, you two." He said, waving it down, the two agents relaxing. "I told you, don't salute me."
"The others said we were supposed to—" Byun began, but Naveen waved her aside.
"Well, they were wrong. As your Director, I order you to not salute me." He held out the leash of his dog to Byun. "Esther, mind taking this for a moment? I think Gunin likes you best." The dog promptly jumped up, barking at Byun's feet. "Shhh, Gunin." The dog got quiet, sitting on top of Byun's feet, prompting her to gently pull him by his leash. "I have some food in my office. You can give it to him."
As Byun took the dog away, Naveen turned to Longhorn, still smiling, still staring. "I thought it might be wiser for me to actually be here, instead of expecting you two to do all the work whilst I rest up at home."
"You don't have to do this, sir." Longhorn said, but Naveen raised his hand.
"Nonsense." He replied, shaking his head. "I want to rectify the mistakes of our previous Director."
"Our previous Director was a madman."
"Nevertheless," He waved at the whiteboard, reaching for a small black pen on the other hand and holding it out for the agent. "Please continue."
Longhorn grabbed it and nodded uneasily. "I was thinking, instead of trying to put all of these powers, all of these possible futures, all of our assets and all of the agencies currently at play— instead of trying to assemble all of that, we should do it chronologically." He wrote down a date in the back of the misprinted photo. "Starting with the date where this mess began."
"The night they got their powers?" Naveen asked.
"No, no, sir." Longhorn placed the date it in the middle of the whiteboard with the help of a magnet. "The date where we found out about them, the date where it all started crumbling down. According to my research, sir, if things had gone just a tiny bit wrong that date— well, more than they went- well... then we wouldn't be here."
"Because their secret wouldn't have been revealed?"
"No." Longhorn sighed. "If things had gone a tiny bit different, everyone would have found out. Our entire world would have changed. And we probably wouldn't be alive." He stepped aside, crossing his arms. "So let's start with the morning of Monday, May 29th, 2017."
Edited by Stratofarius on Dec 4th 2018 at 11:08:39 AM
huzzaaaaaaaah
"You've got everything you need?"
Lenore idly munched on the apple in her hand, even as her Father glanced worriedly at her from the window. "Dad, it's the first day of finals." She muttered, holding the bag in her other hand. "I studied. I'm gonna be fine. You're, like... overreacting. Because I have finals every day this week, so you better relax now, kay?" There was a murmur from her Father, but Lenore threw her bag over her shoulder, leaned in to give him a kiss on the forehead and walked away. "I'll be fine, dude!"
"Attention all students." Principal Shooter's voice echoed through the halls of the school, and even to some outside areas, sporting an unusual military general-like candor. "10th grade, your finals today are Biology and Chemistry, presided over by Mr. Claremont, on class 12B. 11th grade, your finals today are Math and History, presided over by Mr. Brubaker, on class 8A. 12th grade, your finals today are English and Literature, and it will take place on class 38A, presided over by Mr. Morrison's substitute. Your finals will start in twenty minutes, so don't forget and don't be late for your future! That is all."
There was a hush, and then another message. "'Uh, will Ciro Gardner please see me in front of class 38A? Thank you. THAT is all."
OneInAMillion is now online
OneInAMillion: Ed here
OneInAMillion: uh anyone seen des???
OneInAMillion: she was gone all day yesterday
OneInAMillion: im outside 12b
Ivy would also receive a message, though this one was sent from an unknown number directly to her SMS. "UPDATE REGARDING THE CRISPIN HAYWARD. THE CRISPIN HAYWARD HAS REQUESTED TO CONVERSE WITH THE CREATOR. THE CRISPIN HAYWARD CLAIMS THAT HE WILL BE TARGET OF ATTACK. THE CRISPIN HAYWARD IS SPEAKING TOO FAST FOR ME TO REGISTER EVERY WORD. HOW TO RESPOND."
Thankfully, there wasn't a long line to get into the parking lot, seeing as most students had decided to either arrive early or not get there by car at all. Which meant that when Hyeon Jung arrived for his finals, he'd see someone standing right next to his parking lot space: a woman, wearing a light grey hijab, a black suit, a blue striped shirt and comfortable running shoes.*
She didn't even wait for Hyeon to get out of his car before revealing her full intentions, by walking up to his window and beaming a nice, big, genuine smile at him. "Hi there. Are you Mr..." She pulled out a notepad from her suit's pocket and looked down at it. "... Hyeon Jung? I was told you'd be here and I'd love to talk to you." There was a brief moment before she almost slapped herself in the face. "Oh, sorry. My name is Esther Byun. I'm investigating some recent disappearances here in Oldport and I was hoping you could help me!"
The students who got into Class 38A would be given a nice, wonderful view of Mr. Morrison's substitute... 's shoes, as she was currently propping them up on the table, right next to the packet with the finals, her face covered by a newspaper. She was tall, with a jet black hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a grey suit that looked way too expensive to belong to a substitute teacher.
But most importantly, she looked like someone some of the teens would recognize.
Sarah Travers pulled down her newspaper and got up on her feet, moving over to the chalkboard. "Start taking your seats, and I don't want to see anyone sitting next to each other. Don't even try." She said, writing down Sarah Travers - Substitute Teacher on the board.
Outside of class 8A, Daigo Hiraga leaned against the nearby wall, idly tapping away at his phone. Right besides them was Devin Chayne, chewing on a plastic lollipop stick like it was gum. Both of them occasionally looked up, whispered something to each other and then went back to their idle duties, waiting for the bell to ring and for finals to start.
Vivian stood outside the door to the music center, a small classroom that was always used by every Music elective, and the proverbial home of Ms. Brayne, the teacher to most of those classes. With her hands inside her pockets, Vivian gently bumped her head against the wall several times- muttering "just do it" with every bump- before taking a deep breath and walking inside, to the tune of her yelling "MISS BRAYNE ARE YOU HERE I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT MUSIC."
The sound of cars driving by Sebastian's house slowly died down, and as if on cue, the grotesque head that now belonged to Benjy poked down from his hidey hole up one of the trees (he'd sleep wrapped around the branches up high, hidden in the foliage, his skin color mixing with the dark greens around him).
Clutching the trees and moving like a spider, Benjy crawled down towards the ground. The past few days had all been about growing accustomed to his new body, a privilege he had only earned because Sebastian's parents were notoriously absent. He still liked standing up on his two feet, but every now and then, he'd scurry back and forth like a terrified cockroach, as if getting the lay of the land.
"Jennnnnnnnaaaa...." He called out, cupping his hands around his mouth but still whispering. "... we cannnnnnn come out nnnnnnnow. I nnnneeeeed to taaaaalk to yyyyoouuuu."
Edited by Stratofarius on Dec 6th 2018 at 11:47:40 AM
Blood Mage Apologist
Outside Class 8A
Those idiots are up to something.
"Don't be rude," Sebastian muttered to himself as he watched Daigo and Devin standing around. He was hesitant to approach them, especially as from all accounts the former was basically a delinquent who now had magical powers.
And although he'd never had a problem with Devin, the guy was hanging around with 'most likely to be a Convict.' Not to mention the whole 'giant monster lizard' thing. And a possible murder.
I swear to god, if we stayed up studying for nothing because that fool starts disrupting everything, the nature spirit grumbles, [[red: I want you to kill him. Painfully. You owe me a favor already for the 'oh, Fesxis, can you memorize the answers to the finals?' monotony you asked me to go through-]
"Oh, shush," the teenager told himself. "You were the one who suggested it."
Together, Sebastian and his 'imaginary friend' waited for finals to start, a decent distance away from the hooligans by Class 8A, although he did grab his smartphone and send a quick text to the Group Chat.
Daigo is here outside 8A. So is Devin. Probably up to no good.
Wooze looks at Glass with a 'please take her away' look
David sighed as he was persuaded to sit down, but nonetheless complied. Though his leg was trembling from nerves. That and he was half-curled up in the way he was leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. He didn't blink for the longest time either—staring into space and tuning out for a solid fifteen seconds before he caught the words ‘group chat’ from Rose's mouth.
“Hm. A nice, entirely secure chatroom where we can detail our abilities. A good sentiment, but I shouldn't even need to tell you that it's realistically suicidal. Unless we've got a security system on par or greater with the NSA's, all that information will get leaked. Delaying it is no good,” he stated matter-of-factly—before glancing down as he brought out his phone. “Although...”
“...perhaps we'll be fine for now. In terms of the chatroom idea. We're still in the early stages; we'll just need to watch our backs later on. And for god's sakes let's promise now that we don't do anything stupid that'll get us in a run-in with the men in black. I think we have enough on our plate with the regular authorities.”
bork