Aberrant: Quantum Zero - Quantum Zero - Truth & Justice

[ProfPotts]

Day One

Peter Knorr smiled a grim smile in response to the way the chill Highland wind caressed his face as he emerged from the spiral staircase & out onto the top of the tall stone tower. He’d trained here himself, back in his Wolfpack days, before his eruption into the Nova known as ‘Thorn’ - & those memories always brought with them mixed emotions. Shaking off thoughts of his troubled past as best he (& Utopia’s top therapists) could he stepped over to the battlements, joining the gruff figure already peering into the courtyard below. The thickset Scotsman turned & snapped a neat salute as the leader of Team Tomorrow – Europe approached; Knorr returned the salute with the conditioned reflex of a life-long military man, then frowned slightly,

‘You know you don’t have to salute me, Master Sergeant,’ he pointed out – to himself as much as to the heavily bearded Scotsman, ‘we don’t really use military ranks in Project Utopia.’

Master Sergeant George Dixon shrugged,

‘You know how it is, Sir,’ he responded, ‘old soldiers & old habits…’

Peter nodded his understanding. For a moment he gazed out to sea – the island off the North coast of Scotland was just in sight of the mainland & - apart from the castle, recently renovated & refitted to Project Utopia’s specifications – there were no more than a dozen stone cottages clustered around the island’s single tiny fishing village: a lonely spot, maybe, but isolated enough to provide an excellent training facility for new recruits into Team Tomorrow - Europe. Pax hadn’t been too happy with the idea of training potential Tomorrowites outside of the Addis Ababa facility, but the paper-pushers had seen the investment as a good way of bolstering Britain’s flagging support for the Project. They’d also seen the logic of potential members of the European Team getting to train where they’d be working – after all, with the Central Team & all those damned Elites, Africa already had Novas to spare. Besides, Pax was never happy with any decisions he didn’t get to make himself...

Thorn turned his attention to the courtyard below – where several individuals clad in the tight-fitting blue-white-gold eufiber uniforms of Project Utopia’s Team Tomorrow were going through their paces: some breezing through the assault course, while others flew or leapt through the air, & still others demolished wooden targets or lifted incredible weights. Thorn’s frown deepened – some of the Novas below looked so young… Shaking his head slightly he turned once more to the Master Sergeant,

‘So,’ he asked, ‘what do you think of our new recruits? Will they save the world?’

The gruff Scotsman let slip a hearty chortle,

‘What do I think? Green, Sir, very green. Not that they don’t have potential, but it’ll be a while before they’re up to snuff.’

Thorn nodded,

‘I agree… so I guess it’s a good thing that you’ll be around then, eh, Master Sergeant?’

Dixon gave the Nova an un-amused sidelong glance,

‘Yes, Sir,’ he replied, not sounding too convinced, ‘I suppose it is, Sir.’

*****

It was a little later when Thorn found Doctor Loretta Morgan down by the trainee Novas, watching their performances with a keen scientific eye, & making notes on her ever-present PDA as Master Sergeant Dixon supervised his hand-picked ex-military support team putting them through their paces. Doctor Morgan was a good looking English woman in her early thirties, with shoulder-length brunette hair & hazel eyes hidden behind a large pair of glasses – she was also one of the world’s top ten leading experts on the M-R node & Nova physiology. Peter had first met her when he’d initially checked into the London Rashoud clinic, in the days before they’d given him the name ‘Thorn’, & remembered her as an intelligent & efficient woman – she seemed like the ideal candidate to head up the Island’s scientific staff.

‘Good morning, Doctor,’ Thorn greeted the scientist as he approached, ‘how are you finding the new facilities?’

Doctor Morgan jumped at the sound of Thorn’s voice – obviously she’d been concentrating on the new recruits too hard to notice his arrival - & Peter noticed a slight flush to her cheeks as she turned to face him: just the Highland breeze? Or maybe a reaction to his own movie-star good looks: blond, blue-eyed, tall, handsome, with that perfect chiselled physique which only Novas could pull off (highlighted so well by the standard Team Tomorrow skin-tight uniform) – Thorn knew well the effect he had on women, but tried his best to play down the impact: a relationship was the last thing he needed considering his job… & his past…

Gathering her wits Doctor Morgan finally managed to reply,

‘Th… the facilities? Oh… they’re… they’re fine, um… “Thorn”, I guess we’re meant to call you now?’

Thorn forced a smile,

‘If you like, although “Peter” is fine too – after all, we’re all just human, right?’

‘Right,’ Doctor Morgan acknowledged Thorn’s transparent reference to one of the main differences between Project Utopia’s & the Teragen’s philosophies – being in Team Tomorrow was about being the best, but being the best person, the best human, for the sake of all humanity – not about being the most powerful & losing yourself in the process. Thorn had seen the devastation Nova ‘Elites’ had wrought on baseline troops & civilians both, back before he’d erupted – now his driving goal was to protect humanity from those who thought that power gave them the right to act as they pleased… bullies… he’d never been able to stomach that sort… Taking a cue from the tiny inflections he saw in Doctor Morgan’s expression he added,

‘The mainland’s only a boat trip away, Doctor - & we’re having a VTOL hyperjet shipped over too: isolated as this place seems, the world really is at your doorstep.’

Doctor Morgan blushed once more,

‘I… thank you… that was troubling me a little… how did you know?’

Thorn shrugged,

‘I’m good a reading people, Doctor, that’s all – nothing sinister, I assure you.’

Doctor Morgan smiled,

‘No,’ she agreed, ‘of course not.’ Glancing once more at her PDA she turned back to the recruits, ‘Are you going to meet them now Thorn… Peter?’

Nodding, Thorn caught Master Sergeant Dixon’s eye & raised his hand. Saluting in acknowledgement – that old soldier was never going to change – the Master Sergeant turned to the new recruits, & bellowed,

‘Alright you miserable bunch of wasters: fall in & sound off – name, code name, & powers!’

[Heritage]

Dr. Estelle de Havilland has a good sense of humor, and it was that sense of humor that was currently keeping her from going mad; not raving like a loon and frothing at the mouth crazy, but certainly in a 24/7 state of catatonic shock. In the past few months, she had lost her job, the good graces of most of her family, her inheritance, and any sort of a normal life; but in the plus column, she was currently demolishing wooden targets using only her hair, which was nice.

It wasn’t easy turning to Utopia for help; her eruption in the company's lab and subsequent visit to the New York Rashoud facility had directly lead to her brother’s imprisonment and the full weight of the Science & Technology division hitting De Havilland’s assets like a ten ton hammer dropped from space. Other than Sunny, no one in the family would talk to her (actually a minor blessing when it came to the twins), and she had never felt more alone in her life. But she was a nova now, and Utopia was supposed to help novas, right? She had returned to the facility, expecting to get some sort of research job in S&T’s Chemistry and Pharmaceutical Sciences section, but was surprised to find they wanted her for Team Tomorrow, assuming she passed muster. Her recent family history was a concern at first; some argued that she always harbor resentment towards PU due to what happened, or worse that she would try to actively sabotage the operation from within. That had actually made her laugh.

“You don’t know me or my family very well, do you? Go and read Shakespeare’s Wars of the Roses cycle, and then we can talk.”

After she passed her psych tests and got her security clearance, the rest was more or less a cakewalk, and now here she was on this tiny godforsaken Scottish isle practicing with her power, and what a power it is! Sometimes she thinks she will die from embarrassment, and other times she feels like mistress of the world, but the long and the short of it is, Estelle’s hair is large and in charge; it hovers around her like a golden cloud that nearly touches the ground, looks fabulous, and responds to her slightest mental command. She can easily form thick limbs of hair that shoot out over twenty feet, limbs strong enough to punch holes through steel and toss cars like plastic models; no one in the clinic was quite sure how she did it, but it appeared to be some combination of altered physiology and telekinesis.

‘Alright you miserable bunch of wasters: fall in & sound off – name, code name, & powers!’

Estelle steps lively as she finds a place in formation, her hair neatly forming itself into a single braid as thick as her arm that hangs down her toned back to just brush the top of her ankles. She’s 5’ 7” and has a slender athletic build, but with enough curves to make her skintight eufiber do intriguing things; her hazel eyes are clear and intelligent, and the hint of a smile never seems far from her lips. As attractive as Estelle is, and she is quite beautiful in an elegant but still clearly human way, the most striking thing about her is of course her amazing hair, which shimmers and gleams like spun gold. Normally it’s always in motion, curling and twisting like smoke in the breeze, but the observant will notice that even now the tip of the braid occasionally twitches, like a cat’s tail when it sleeps.

Estelle steps forward, hands clasped behind her back, and responds to Dixon’s barked command in a cultured East Coast contralto.

“Estelle de Havilland, aka Gossamer. My power is mental control of my hair, which is very long and very strong.”

*At least this time you didn’t laugh.*

[Prince of Boredom]

Saadet smiled. It was a smile of sheer joy and excitement, of a complete freedom she had never before felt in her life. Here, held aloft by the cool, coastal winds at her command, 60 meters above the courtyard of a Scottish castle, she was completely free; she needed no one, no man; she was independent and powerful. It was the strangest and most powerful feeling of exhilaration she had ever experienced.

The feel of the chill wind, cold enough to tease the small nipples of her perfectly round breasts, completely under her control was amazing, almost orgasmic, and she was nearly lost in the sheer extasy of that feeling. Then, looking down, it was such a strange feeling to look down, she saw the others and remembered she was here for training. To show her instructors she wasn't just goofing around, Saadet launched a gust of wind at one of the wooden targets, and then concentrated on refining her control of her 'flight'.

As she glanced down again, she saw Estelle standing at attention, and apparently saying something to their instructor, Saadet faintly remembered his name was Dixon. Apparently, he had 'mustered the troops' but she hadn't heard over the glorious sound of the swirling winds around her.

Concentrating on those same winds, Saadet slowly begins to descend, the winds whipping up small dust devils around the assembled instructors and teams members, until the winds slowly fade and Saadet touches down gracefully next to Estelle. Only a small breeze remains, blowing gently into Saadet's face, a faint smell of figs accompanying it.

Saadet stood perhaps a finger's length taller than Estelle, her body the picture of sheer physical perfection. An accomplished dancer before her eruption, Novahood had only enhanced her near flawless physique to levels beyond that any baseline could hope for. Her legs were long, her hips perfectly shaped to make any man fall in love when she performed the traditional belly-dances of her homeland while her ample bossom perfectly filled the bikini-style tops of the Turkish belly-dancing costume. Her dark olive skin marked her as mediterranean, as did her long, curly brown hair which now gently blew in the breeze.

After Estelle presents herself, Saadet leisurely steps forward,

"Merhaba. I'm Saadet Mansur, codename Sirocco. I control the winds."

Giving a graceful curtsy and slight smile to the Master Seargent, she steps back in line.

[Centimane]

‘Alright you miserable bunch of wasters: fall in & sound off – name, code name, & powers!’

Lorena Vasiliauskiūtė, now known by many as the nova Aušrinė (oh! how her fellow countrymen loved that name, nevermind that her hair was the wrong color and her powers had nothing to do with light), got up from the hydraulic press she'd been using and stepped up beside her teammates. Like, she imagined, many of her fellow recruits, Lori could hardly believe she was actually here. Life since her eruption hadn't been perfect, but it had certainly been better than she'd dared to hope!

Lori had erupted after being caught in a bank as it exploded and then collapsed on top of her, and she had the powers to prove it. According to Utopia's PR department, Aušrinė was not only nigh invulnerable, she was capable of rapidly healing any injuries she did sustain, she was one of the strongest novas alive, and she was also her namesake's match in beauty as well! A perfect choice for Team Tomorrow, Europe! Those same PR people assured her that her highly telegenic appearance and her straightforward, easy to remember powers all but ensured that she would be a successful, and hugely popular, new addition to the Team Tommorrow roster. That was, of course, assuming she made the cut.

As she'd begun to spend more and more time amongst other novas however, she couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by her extremely limited, almost stereotyped, abilities. Super-strength and invulnerability sounded nice (and had saved her life as well), but they certainly didn't measure up to the powers of novas who could control the weather, or men's minds, or even time itself. At least, not in her opinion. But she reminded herself again that she should be thankful. Her powers had saved her life, and had landed her a position within Project Utopia! As a Tommorrowite! She would never have believed it possible if she weren't experiencing it for herself.

Standing next to her fellow recruits, Lori cut quite the figure in her form fitting eufiber outfit. Standing at 167 cm in height ((five and a half feet)), she was, as the name 'Aušrinė' suggested, a stunning example of matchless European beauty. Her body possessed feminine curves of almost impossible to miss magnitudes, stacked onto a lithe and lissome form that somehow managed to be spare and lean at the same time that it was curvaceous, and that completely failed to communicate the massive and impossible strength hidden within it. Her features were fine, almost delicate, and her skin lightly tanned. Her eyes and her long, curly hair were the exact same shade of a deep and dark brown. Though all of her was beautiful, her eyes were particularly arresting, like deep pools that an unwary observer could easily fall into. And though she did not smile as often as some, when she did it was like watching the dawning of the sun.

“Estelle de Havilland, aka Gossamer. My power is mental control of my hair, which is very long and very strong.”

"Merhaba. I'm Saadet Mansur, codename Sirocco. I control the winds."

It was her turn. Lori gathered herself and stepped forward.

"I am Lorena Vasiliauskiūtė, called Aušrinė, my powers are super-human strength and durability."

And she stepped back in line.

Well, not very impressive compared to these others, but at least I'm here. At least I'm here.

[Alex Green]

Jack Davidson wasn’t all that thrilled to be here. He wasn’t unhappy, this was an important step to bigger and better things, meeting his teammates was a good thing and he looked forward to it… but on the other hand in his view there was little point in being a shinning example for the masses out in the middle of nowhere. A tuff of his red hair came into his view and he swept it back again, this time without surprise.

Eruption had been long enough ago that he was used to the idea that his hair was red, but looking into mirrors still sometimes gave him a start. It was perhaps the one flaw in his otherwise magnificent eruption. Sure, he was really good looking, but that wasn’t new, he’d been good looking before. Heck he'd been a male model. But before he hadn’t been a green eyed red head. The quantum genii had apparently granted his wish for Slider’s life a little too literally. It was fortunate Slider had been a chick or he’d probably have exactly her face, as it was he’d just have to live with looking like her twin brother.

‘Alright you miserable bunch of wasters: fall in & sound off – name, code name, & powers!’

Jack instantly comes to attention. In the back of his mind he was a little surprised, *Hello, one of my former classmates must have been a weekend warrior or something. Maybe even regular army.*

Jack speaks in a reporting to authority voice,

Sir! Jack Davidson, aka Bridger, reporting for duty!

I can create Warp gates! With them I can bridge one place to another or reflect ranged attacks! I can also create mental bridges or psychic links between people! I also have the skills of the 30 baselines from my high school reunion!”

[Heritage]

Estelle felt very small, nay, tiny, and it was killing her.

Ever since her first day of kindergarden, when a boy picked up her books just because she smiled at him, she knew she was pretty; not gorgeous or fantastic, but attractive, and right or wrong she used that fact, sometimes unconsciously, to make her own life easier. She'd learned all about 'face-ism' in Psych 101, and it had shocked her when she realized how long she'd been doing it. It was the way of the world: attractive people are treated better, and in fact come to expect it. Did it make her a bad person? She tried to use her powers for good as much as possible, to make friends and help people get along better, but ever since then she felt a bit guilty about it.

But as of today as she looked at her two new teammates in their sprayed-on jumpsuits, a cosmic shift had taken place, and the sun no longer shined as brightly on poor little rich Estelle, because for the first time in her life, she knew what all the plain girls who hated her back in grammar school and high school felt as she walked past.

*I'm invisible. I don't matter.*

Estelle felt like a thin little stick of a girl next to these two love goddesses, like one of those anorexic models her and Sunny used to make fun of during Fashion Week, or an awkward middle schooler who's teenaged sister comforts her with the promise that one day she'll develop, and then they can share outfits; won't that be fun? Maybe this is all part of the same cosmic joke that made her hair go ballistic, some sort of weird punishment for being rich, pretty and smart.

"It's karma," she mutters to herself.

God, no more self-pity! There are some good looking guys in this castle, and that's a fact! Hey, maybe she could be like one of those the nerdy girls in the movies, the one who hangs back from the crowd, but it is secretly ready to blossom- gah, enough!

But as she struggled to make her way out of her internal pity parade, the young blonde heard something that somehow made her day:

I also have the skills of the 30 baselines from my high school reunion!”

Did he actually just say that out loud? ::huh Before she can help herself, Stelle finds herself blurting out in her best high school senior bitch tone,

"So what do they call you, 'Reunion Boy'?"

[Alex Green]

Before she can help herself, Stelle finds herself blurting out in her best high school senior bitch tone,

"So what do they call you, 'Reunion Boy'?"

A dozen different snide comments present themselves for retaliation, but Jack says nothing.

*Careful there boy, first day of parade means the Sarge is looking for someone to make an example of.*

*Nor does winning arguments sell used cars, but losing them sometimes does.*

[ProfPotts]

Thorn, Doctor Morgan, & the Master Sergeant (not to mention numerous support personel who can't resist the free show) all watch & listen as Team Tomorrow's latest recruits all start to fall in & announce themselves. Everything is going smoothly: Doctor Morgan taking notes, Thorn nodding with interest, & The Master Sergeant scowling at the lot of them, until...

Sir! Jack Davidson, aka Bridger, reporting for duty!

I can create Warp gates! With them I can bridge one place to another or reflect ranged attacks! I can also create mental bridges or psychic links between people! I also have the skills of the 30 baselines from my high school reunion!”

'What's that? "Sir"?!' the Master Sergeant snaps the well-oiled response back at a volume & speed hard to take in, 'Do I look like an officer to you?! I work for a living, dammit! You'll address me as "Master Sergeant"! Is! That! Understood!' ::angry

Behind the Master Sergeant, Doctor Morgan stares on in surprise, whilst Thorn covers his mouth in an attempt to hide the chuckle which he's finding it hard to supress. Most of the support personel suddenly realise that whatever it is they're doing requires a great deal of attention as they try to avoid incurring the burly Scotsman's wrath...

'Bleedin' 'ell!'

Master Sergeant Dixon's outburst having interupted proceedings somewhat another voice, with a distinct London accent, carries across the assembled group. Strolling up behind Thorn & Doctor Morgan can be seen a rather gaunt, scruffy, man in, perhaps, his late thirties, with a tangle of black hair, a five-o-clock shadow, & rather glistening black eyes. The man's clothes are just as scruffy: an incredibly battered old overcoat on top of un-ironed shirt, loose tie, worn trousers, & scuffed shoes. Not only that, but a dog-end cigarette is hanging from the corner of his mouth (despite smoking being banned in all Project Utopia facilities). Hands firmly in pockets the man walks over &, without any pretense at subtlety, looks the new Tomorrowites up & down,

'Wot's this then?' he comments, eye darting particularly across the female members of the team, 'A page three reunion or somethin'?' Shaking his head he adds, 'Well, at least we got the thrupenny bits 'n' Queen Mum angle covered...'

Stepping in front of the new arrival Thorn, with a frown on his brow, says in a firm, but quiet, tone,

'Just who are you, mister? I'll have you know you can't speak to these fine people like that...'

A sly half-smile twisting his mouth the new arrival shrugs, wipes his hand on his ovcercoat, & offers it to Thorn,

'John 'unter's the name, mate - PR's the game. Septics would call me a "Spin Doctor"... & if you think I'm bad, compared to th' lads from th' current bun I'm the love-child of Mother bleedin' Theresa & Ghandi. Your merry band of soopa-'eroes 'ere is gonna' 'aveta be able to suffer th' slings 'n' arrows as well as be able to bounce bullets off their Georgie Bests - better it comes from me in private than one of them bursts into tears th' first time they face th' press, right?' ::sly

Thorn's frown remains,

'You're Mister Hunter, the Project Utopia assigned press agent for this group?' ::huh the leader of T2M Europe shakes his head, then turns back to the assembled Novas & says, a little apologetically, 'I'll look into this the first chance I get...' adding, under his breath, '... I'm sure there's been some sort of mistake...'

Hunter just grins,

'Yeah, sure mate, whatever...' ::rolleyes

[Expendable]

Angel could feel her face burning as the strange little man ran his eyes down her body. A PR man. She had encountered a few in hospital.

The sergeant was looking at her. She opened her mouth... then shut it. How long had she been mute now? Mentally kicking herself, she reached into a pocket of her uniform and handed him a laminated card one of the Project Utopia persons made up for her, snapping her wings.

"This nova is mute and cannot speak. Name: Jane Doe; codename: Angel of St. George. Primary powers: healing, fire-breathing, sword-creation, forcefield, flight."

It was all so ungraceful. She had much better names for her powers. 'Angel of St. George' - the newspapers gave her that from the start, from when they found her on the steps of the church. She'd much rather have a better codename like the others but that's what she got stuck with. She felt her hands balling up in fists and forced them to relax. Humility, humility. It was what she promised, right?

"Jane Doe", real name unknown. The doctors at the hospital were convinced she had amnesia. But staring at the commander arguing with the PR man, she didn't think she fooled the Project Utopia people. There was that one man who said nothing while the others interviewed her in the hospital - she had a headache afterwards. Was he a telepath? Had he been probing inside her head? But if they knew who she was, why did they let her join?

She glanced at the sergeant and then looked straight ahead. At least she wasn't going to call him "sir".

[Asbjørn]

His long, blond hair still dripping with salt water from the North Sea, Harald let the winds around him dissipate and bring him in to land beside one of the two knockouts already standing in line. His steel grey eyes, his unshaven chin and the tanned skin of his face and hands made him look slightly older than his 24 years. The rest of his body - hidden and highlighted by the eufiber uniform - was tall and athletic, slim rather than heavily muscled, but his nonchalance at the slight drizzle of rain that accompanies his arrival - and the wind playing in his hair - does remind the historically inclined observer of the ancestors of the young Norwegian, travelling these very coasts a millenium ago.

Happy to have missed the Master Sergeant's outburst, Harald waits for his turn, then announces

"Harald Anker, Master Sergeant. Primeval. Weather, wind and sea are my fields of influence."

The young man runs a hand through his wet hair and glances around. Seeing the probably less than happy expressions at the light rain, he gives an apologetic smile at the hotties - and of course the rest of the group ::innocent - then makes a brief gesture with his hand, seeming to send the clouds of rain on their way.

"I'm sorry.. I forget myself some times..."

As the rain stops, Harald returns his attention to Dixon, adding "I also have some affinity with plants and animals, Master Sergeant."

[Alex Green]

'What's that? "Sir"?!' the Master Sergeant snaps the well-oiled response back at a volume & speed hard to take in, 'Do I look like an officer to you?! I work for a living, dammit! You'll address me as "Master Sergeant"! Is! That! Understood!' ::angry

::brick *Should have seen that one coming.*

"Yes, Master Sergeant!"

...she reached into a pocket of her uniform and handed him a laminated card one of the Project Utopia persons made up for her, snapping her wings.

"This nova is mute and cannot speak. Name: Jane Doe; codename: Angel of St. George. Primary powers: healing, fire-breathing, sword-creation, forcefield, flight."

::sly *Interesting. Sounds like someone who needs a bridge.* ::happy

[Heritage]

The fact that Jack wisely had not responded to her oh-so-mature comment just made Stelle feel more crappy, and she decided right then and there to grow up, do her job and make an effort to work with her new team.

'John 'unter's the name, mate - PR's the game. Septics would call me a "Spin Doctor"... & if you think I'm bad, compared to th' lads from th' current bun I'm the love-child of Mother bleedin' Theresa & Ghandi. Your merry band of soopa-'eroes 'ere is gonna' 'aveta be able to suffer th' slings 'n' arrows as well as be able to bounce bullets off their Georgie Bests - better it comes from me in private than one of them bursts into tears th' first time they face th' press, right?' ::sly

*Well I understood about half that, but I have a pretty good idea as to what 'bits and mum' stands for in rhyming slang.* ::sly

When she saw Jane's situation, all of Estelle's mental bitching and moaning earlier just seemed so completely trivial; if it all humanly possible, she would try to remember that from now on. And now this new guy Anker, with the tight Nordic ass and the wet hair? Oh yeah. ::w00t

Doing her best not to stare, and failing badly, the long-haired nova turns to Thorn.

"Ah, sir? Or 'not sir', if you're going to chew our heads off, but...are there any more of us coming? And if not, can we get a chance to talk amongst ourselves, get to know each other?"

[Centimane]

Lorena blanched as the 'Master Sergeant' inexplicably blew up at her American teammate, and actually backed up a step before catching herself and falling back in line. She was normally a very calm and collected young lady, but that was just so unexpected....

'Bleedin' 'ell!'

Master Sergeant Dixon's outburst having interupted proceedings somewhat another voice, with a distinct London accent, carries across the assembled group. Strolling up behind Thorn & Doctor Morgan can be seen a rather gaunt, scruffy, man in, perhaps, his late thirties, with a tangle of black hair, a five-o-clock shadow, & rather glistening black eyes. The man's clothes are just as scruffy: an incredibly battered old overcoat on top of un-ironed shirt, loose tie, worn trousers, & scuffed shoes. Not only that, but a dog-end cigarette is hanging from the corner of his mouth (despite smoking being banned in all Project Utopia facilities). Hands firmly in pockets the man walks over &, without any pretense at subtlety, looks the new Tomorrowites up & down,

'Wot's this then?' he comments, eye darting particularly across the female members of the team, 'A page three reunion or somethin'?' Shaking his head he adds, 'Well, at least we got the thrupenny bits 'n' Queen Mum angle covered...'

Aušrinė was actually more amused by the newcomers appearance than anything else, but by the time he'd gotten through his first sentence her expression had turned to one of confusion. As he continued, her expression progressed further afield from confusion until it was just a sort of dull glazed look in her eyes and a sleight slackening at the mouth.

When Lori had erupted and become the nova the media dubbed 'Aušrinė', she'd gained more than just phenominal strength and invulnerability. Of course there was her incredible beauty, but there were other, much more subtle things that were changed or enhanced about her as well. The biggest, most noticeable change, and one of the very best things that had happened to her when she'd erupted, was how much more socially capable she'd become. Before eruption Lori had almost been the definition of the shy wallflower, but after her eruption she'd suddenly found that almost every aspect of social interaction came so much more easily to her now. Her social skills were still well within baseline norm, but they were also far greater than they ever had been. It was wonderful. Aside from that, she had also experienced a marked increase in her physical coordination and reaction times - again, still within baseline norms - and she'd noticed a moderate increase in the acuity of her senses, particularly sight.

But one of the very first things she'd noticed after the incident at the bank, and by far one of the weirdest, was that she was suddenly multilingual. She had, obviously, spoke Russian since long before her eruption, and she did know a smattering of English words as well. But after her eruption she had discovered to her complete amazement that she was suddenly highly fluent in both English and German with no explanation as to how or why this could be. At first she'd thought that perhaps she'd gained some kind of mental powers as well, perhaps super-genius or some sort of telepathy. But the all the tests she'd undergone agreed that while she wasn't stupid, she was no genius either. And as for telepathy, if she had it she was doing such a good job of hiding it that even she didn't know about it. But the simple facts of the matter was that she was now perfectly fluent in Lithuanian (her native tongue), Russian (she'd since noticed that even her Russian had improved from before, if only a little), English, and German. Perfectly fluent.

Or so she'd thought until just this last moment.

'John 'unter's the name, mate - PR's the game. Septics would call me a "Spin Doctor"... & if you think I'm bad, compared to th' lads from th' current bun I'm the love-child of Mother bleedin' Theresa & Ghandi. Your merry band of soopa-'eroes 'ere is gonna' 'aveta be able to suffer th' slings 'n' arrows as well as be able to bounce bullets off their Georgie Bests - better it comes from me in private than one of them bursts into tears th' first time they face th' press, right?'

Aušrinė had absolutely no idea what this man was saying! The words sounded like English, but no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't get her brain to wrap itself around what he was saying. The most she could figure was that he was (possibly) a PR person of some sort, but even that was based largely off of intuitive reasoning on her part.

All in all she was glad of the distraction when the young blond nova came gliding in and took up position nearby, and she gave up the PR(?) man and whatever he'd just said as a lost cause. She was peripherally aware of her teammate, 'Gossamer', intently looking in the direction of the newest nova, and looked in his direction in time to see him smile and apologize for the rain and offered a brief smile of her own in return.

"Ah, sir? Or 'not sir', if you're going to chew our heads off, but...are there any more of us coming? And if not, can we get a chance to talk amongst ourselves, get to know each other?"

Lori nodded her agreement, but didn't say anything. First the Master Sergeant yelling for calling him the wrong thing, then the strange Englishman with his incomprehensible speech, the two combined had left her feeling a bit unsure of herself in the language department.

[archer]

‘Alright you miserable bunch of wasters: fall in & sound off – name, code name, & powers!’

Raising an eyebrow very slightly at the barked order, Shaun decided to wait a moment or two to see how the rest of the team reacted. In truth, he was also in the middle of a set of chin-ups at that moment, having considered the fact that his lack of any obvious powers or supernormal abilities might lead to questions from his teammates that he didn't want to answer yet. To be honest, he was still getting used to this whole nova bit, and preferred to take his time answering any remarks about his new...biological status.

And so, he took his time completing the rest of his exercises, pretending to be so engrossed in what he was doing that he simply didn't hear the order. His rather far distance from the bellowing sergeant helped that illusion, but after the third person took their place in line, he allowed an expression of puzzlement and slight concern to show, and dropped to the ground. As he walked at a reasonable pace up the hill behind the assembled novas, he overheard one of them, an American by the sound of it, respond to the Master Sergeant's directive.

Sir! Jack Davidson, aka Bridger, reporting for duty Sir! Jack Davidson, aka Bridger, reporting for duty!

I can create Warp gates! With them I can bridge one place to another or reflect ranged attacks! I can also create mental bridges or psychic links between people! I also have the skills of the 30 baselines from my high school reunion!”

Shaun winced. Aside from his father's turn in the service, he'd had more than a few friends in as well over the years, and all of them had shared similar stories regarding what happened when you incorrectly addressed a sergeant of any stripe. The Scots' reaction was an almost perfect representation of everything he'd been told.

As he ascended, he watched everyone else's reactions to the sergeant's dressing-down of the poor American who'd made the faux-pas. As expected, the lower ranking personnel avoided attracting any possible attention, due to some unreasoning fear they would be singled out. Unlikely; the sergeant was obviously a professional, and knew his focus needed to be on the one he felt needed correction. Doctor Morgan was obviously taken aback, showing her inexperience with military traditions; she was likely an academic through and through. Catching a glimpse of Thorn suddenly covering his mouth, Shaun thought it likely the former soldier was simply hiding a smile at the scene.

The other team members reactions were more interesting. The women in particular seemed taken aback by the vehemence of Dixon's speech, and surprisingly it was the...statuesque...one(who appeared Slavic to his well-traveled eye) who seemed the most intimidated. The men were a different story. The most recent arrival, still dripping from the sea, didn't seem concerned at all; while the American...Davidson, he'd called himself; well, he appeared to more embarrassed at his slip than anything else.

Now only within a few feet of the spot he would assume in line, Shaun slowed his steps just a bit more as a raggedy stick of a man appeared to draw everyone's attention. Taking advantage as the group's eyes all shifted to this Hunter fellow, Shaun slid into place at the end of the line opposite the PR representative.

He couldn't help a quiet chuckle in his mind as the man rambled on; obviously most of the foreigners were taken aback by the rapid-fire spate of English colloquialisms, and he could tell Hunter enjoyed their discomfort and confusion. Hunter would be one to watch. Of course, the PR man was right. Any sort of personal freedom of expression was for the most part, over when you joined Utopia, much less as part of T2M. Friendly smiles and absolute dedication to public image were only some of the requirements when dealing with the media. Being able to keep your temper when pressed on all sides by reporters and paparazzi was another.

Just about to follow the sergeants original dictum and introduce himself, Shaun paused as one of the women, another American apparently; addressed Thorn personally.

"Ah, sir? Or 'not sir', if you're going to chew our heads off, but...are there any more of us coming? And if not, can we get a chance to talk amongst ourselves, get to know each other?"

Clearing his throat in a soft 'Ahem', Shaun got her attention by raising a hand. "One more here, miss.", he said, in a gentle Scottish brogue. In truth, it was a Northumberland accent, softened by his years in London and abroad, but hearing Dixon had strengthened it.

As the rest of them looked down the line at him, Shaun wondered what they saw. He knew his own reflection, of course, but perception was an oft-strange thing. A bit under 2 meters tall(he immediately converted that to feet for the American's point of view: 6 feet, 3 inches), and exactly 13.8 stone(190 pounds), he had a slender body typically associated with dancers or long-distance athletes. He was graceful and composed in his movements, but not preternaturally so. In fact, none of his physical attributes seemed nova-like at all.

He was attractive, he knew that. Not nova-level, certainly, but more than enough to have drawn the eyes and desire of women(and men) from everywhere he'd been. More than once he'd caught an admirer nibbling her lower lip in mid-fantasy as he walked by. Some of his lovers had called him tempting, like something a dessert they knew they shouldn't indulge in, but just couldn't keep from trying a taste. ::sly

Others claimed it was his charisma, the way his presence rolled over a room as he entered, and affected all inside it. He'd heard some of the interviews from his co-workers after the incident in Dubai...'born to command', 'cool under pressure', and things of that nature. He had only done what was needed, and regretted being unable to do more at the time. He had been in charge as per company guidelines, and had taken steps accordingly.

Still, Dubai had apparently been impressive enough to garner Project Utopia's full and undivided attention. After rigorous testing over a period of weeks at the London Rashoud facility, PU had thought enough of his talents to offer him a position here. He'd always wanted to make a difference in the world, and Mum would have been heartbroken if he refused. And so here he was. Taking a deep breath of the salt-air, he smiled. At least he was close to home. Nodding respectfully to both Thorn and Dixon, he addressed himself to the Master Sergeant, speaking loudly enough to be heard by the rest.

"Shaun Beckett, also known as Doctor Impossible. As for powers...I'm told that I'm devilishly smart, sergeant."

[Expendable]

Doing her best not to stare, and failing badly, the long-haired nova turns to Thorn.

"Ah, sir? Or 'not sir', if you're going to chew our heads off, but...are there any more of us coming? And if not, can we get a chance to talk amongst ourselves, get to know each other?"

Angel winced. 'Talking', she suspected, would have to wait until after the sergeant was done with them. But unlike her father talking to his men, he probably wouldn't hit Estelle for interrupting.

Her glance slid over to Thorn talking to Hunter. Hunter was right. It was a Sun reporter who called her Breath of Hell "flaming halitosis" - after sneaking into her hospital room and failing to talk her into a page 3 shot. Those guys were sleezy and brutal.

But not these guys. Here she was tucked between the red-headed American and another continental guy almost as blonde as herself. She didn't mind his rain. And now this Scot who'd come up behind them. Good looking men flanking her. Like bodyguards.... or were they on to her? A cold chill ran down her back and she shot the sergeant and Thorn a worried look.

[ProfPotts]

"Ah, sir? Or 'not sir', if you're going to chew our heads off, but...are there any more of us coming? And if not, can we get a chance to talk amongst ourselves, get to know each other?"

Thorn offers Gossamer a friendly smile,

'Actually I am... sorry, was... an officer... But that's all in the past. We're all fellow members of Team Tomorrow now, & while part of out duty involves paramilitary police actions, we're not a military organisation. The Master Sergeant here is your physical training & combat instructor - & he's very good at his job - if he appears harsh with any of you, you can be sure it's ultimately for your own good. You've all read about the casualities Team Tomorrow suffered in Kashmir? Listen to Master Sergeant Dixon here &, God forbid, if a similar situation occurs you'll find your chances of survival much better for his teachings.'

The more preceptive recruits notice a muscle twitching in Thorn's jaw & a rather haunted look fill his eyes... but after a moment it's gone & the smile returns,

'But on a lighter note: yes, there are one or two more recruits who should be arriving over time - but you'll have plenty of time to meet them, & all your fellow Tomorrowites. Right now it must be close to nine: you have a half hour for breakfast, then...'

'Then you're all mine, luv...' sneers Hunter, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Gossamer. ::devil

Gritting his teeth, Thorn manages his best to ignore the interuption & continues,

'... then you have a meeting about public relations strategies...' he glances at Hunter, then adds, '... I'll make a few calls before then...'

The recruits are quickly directed to the castle's main dining room: the long oak table is large enough to seat everyone with room to spare, twin crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, & side tables groan under the mass of silver trays laid out, full to the brim with bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, mushrooms, hash browns, & other high-protein food, as well as rounds & rounds of toast (with the finest Scottish marmalade & a selection of jams), bowls of cereal, continental-style breakfast pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed fruit juices, pots of fresh ground coffee, & a selection of teas. Plates & silverware are next to the food, indicating that it's a self-service meal. Two bay windows offer a rather magnificent view of the sea crashing against the rocks, under the pale grey sky, not far from the castle walls.

For the next half hour the Novas have the dining room all to themselves, & are left to their own devices.

[Alex Green]

Jack makes it a point to sit across from the mute Angel, where he gives a smile and says, ::smile

"I gather you are mute? As it happens I can create a quantum-telephone which allows mental communication. It's pretty handy and not mentally invasive. What I get is only what you choose to send and vise versa. Oh, and the range is insane, it doesn't burn through juice to use although it costs a lot to set up initially, and either party can hang up."

Jack holds out his hand,

"If you'll agree I'll set it up and you won't be mute for at least one person."

[Heritage]

The sense of high school deja vu continues in the cafeteria - sorry, the dining room - as the novas start to pick out their seats, and Estelle finds herself torn by a classic decision: do you sit next to one of the cute guys, or do you try to make a new friend? As part of her program to not give in to feminine competitiveness (at least not on the first day), she decides to sit with one of the uber-pretty girls and try to make nice.

But first, it's time for food ::devil

Her whole adult life, Stelle has watched her diet, not to an insane degree, but it was always in the back of her mind, even when she was pigging out on Chunky Monkey ice cream. Now one of the greatest gifts of the quantum genie, if not THE greatest, was the amazing new metabolism; Stelle could eat whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and not gain a pound, which was beyond wonderful. She had gone on a few stupor-inducing comfort food binges the first week just because she could, and even though that wicked thrill had faded somewhat, it was still nice not having to count calories whenever she filled up her plate.

At the serving area, her braid unfurls into four slender tendrils that snag plates, glasses and silverware and start filling them up; the effect is not unlike watching a bizarre Jacques Cousteau documentary set in an all-you-can-eat buffet as the sinuous shimmering limbs seek out their high cholesterol prey. Hefting four full plates, a big orange juice and a steaming mug of coffee, Stelle carefully makes her way over to a chair and lays out her spread, then seeks out Lorena with her eyes and indicates a nearby seat with a smile, a nod and shrug.

[Expendable]

The buffet was wonderful - although seeing a tendril of hair snag a water glass and fill it up with orange juice was an eye-opener.

Angel settled for one plate, a slice of toast she smothered with baked beans, several rashers of bacon, a banger, kippers, and a small heaping pile of eggs - and a tall glass of ice cold milk. Tucking silverware and a napkin in her pocket, she took a seat at the far end of table where she wouldn't have to worry about someone bumping into her wings.

To her surprise, as she sat down, the American joined her.

Jack makes it a point to sit across from the mute Angel, where he gives a smile and says, ::smile

"I gather you are mute? As it happens I can create a quantum-telephone which allows mental communication. It's pretty handy and not mentally invasive. What I get is only what you choose to send and vise versa. Oh, and the range is insane, it doesn't burn through juice to use although it costs a lot to set up initially, and either party can hang up."

Jack holds out his hand,

"If you'll agree I'll set it up and you won't be mute for at least one person."

Angel stared at Jack for a long moment. The Project Utopia people did some of this during her testing phase. Smiling shyly, she reaches out and takes Jack's hand, waiting for him to make the connection.

[Centimane]

The recruits are quickly directed to the castle's main dining room: the long oak table is large enough to seat everyone with room to spare, twin crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, & side tables groan under the mass of silver trays laid out, full to the brim with bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, mushrooms, hash browns, & other high-protein food, as well as rounds & rounds of toast (with the finest Scottish marmalade & a selection of jams), bowls of cereal, continental-style breakfast pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed fruit juices, pots of fresh ground coffee, & a selection of teas. Plates & silverware are next to the food, indicating that it's a self-service meal. Two bay windows offer a rather magnificent view of the sea crashing against the rocks, under the pale grey sky, not far from the castle walls.

For the next half hour the Novas have the dining room all to themselves, & are left to their own devices.

Mmmmmm. Breakfast! If asked Lorena would probably say that this was her favorite meal of the day, but only because you’d asked her at breakfast. If asked at lunch or dinner her answer would be, correspondingly, different. And so it was that she stacked her plate high with all the very least healthy things she could find, smiling in anticipation all the while.

However her attention couldn’t help but be drawn to Gossamer as she gathered a staggering four plates and two beverages using only her hair! Erstaunlich! Lori couldn’t help but stare in a mixture of awe, unease, amusement, and envy. She was struggling with one plate and her orange juice. And she still hadn’t gotten her coffee yet!

Suddenly, watching all those tendrils of golden hair, Lorena was reminded of a trick she’d taught herself almost immediately after she’d learned to attune and shape eufiber outfits to her desires. She concentrated for a moment, and two small tendrils suddenly broke free from her uniform, reached out, and poured her a cup of coffee. One of the tendrils then receded back into her outfit while the other grasped the mug of coffee. She looked up at Estelle with a big grin on her face, and then laughed, as if to say, ‘whoever would have thought we’d be here, meeting under such strange, bizarre, and wonderful circumstances’?

Then, seeing Estelle’s indication that they sit together, Lorena gladly took a seat across from Estelle and set down her food, the remaining tendril quickly disappearing in the same way its partner had.

Looking at Estelle, Lorena said, ’A cute trick, no? But nothing compared to yours.’

Her eyes lit up and her smiled broadened as she continued, ’I love your hair, by the way! It’s gorgeous!’ Lorena’s eyes lit up and her smiled broadened as she began speaking in the universal language of all women everywhere, in all cultures and all times. She almost didn’t even have to speak English. ’I bet you don’t even need to style it, do you? And that color! If it’s not an impertinent question, may I ask how you came by such an amazing gift?’

[Alex Green]

To her surprise, as she sat down, the American joined her.

Angel stared at Jack for a long moment. The Project Utopia people did some of this during her testing phase. Smiling shyly, she reaches out and takes Jack's hand, waiting for him to make the connection.

With a charming flurish, Jack kisses Angel's hand.

*Can you hear me now? I'm Jack. This link thing is pretty spiffy... information...*

Jack gives her a friendly grin and sends Angel an image of a comically enhanced cartoon version of Pax Jack flying around defeating evil-doers. It's obviously a day dream rather than a memory.

Then an obviously real memory of Jack's high school union is sent... the hall had a poster of Slider in view in his memory.

*So what should we be calling you? Angel? Jane? Something else?*

[Heritage]

Looking at Estelle, Lorena said, ’A cute trick, no? But nothing compared to yours.’

Her eyes lit up and her smiled broadened as she continued, ’I love your hair, by the way! It’s gorgeous!’ Lorena’s eyes lit up and her smiled broadened as she began speaking in the universal language of all women everywhere, in all cultures and all times. She almost didn’t even have to speak English. ’I bet you don’t even need to style it, do you? And that color! If it’s not an impertinent question, may I ask how you came by such an amazing gift?’

Estelle turns a little pink as she self-consciously strokes her hair, which twists about happily like a cat getting a belly scratching.

"Oh, thank you! You look great in that eufiber, it really suits you. No, it pretty much does whatever I tell it to, so it's saving me money on everything but shampoo and conditioner. Here, watch-"

She flicks her eyes upwards as her hair rises and folds in on itself as it sculpts into an ornate 18th century creation worthy of Marie Antoinette; it holds there for a few seconds before dropping back down into her earlier braid, leaving two extra limbs free to help with breakfast. The blonde nova can only chuckle as she shakes her head.

"Literally hours of amusement, I'm sad to say. And as far as the color goes - well, you can't quite see it here, but there's a fairly significant glow effect; I can almost read by it at night."

Stelle turns her attention back to her meal, which she tackles with impressive efficiency.

"Well, my eruption wasn't as dramatic as yours; I saw the clip on CNN, pretty amazing stuff. Our family lawyer said I'm not supposed to talk about it, but let’s just say it was something of an industrial accident and I hold my brother directly responsible; he's lucky I'm alive, or he would be spending a lot more time in jail."

Her tone has gotten a little harsh and her words more rushed, but then she stops herself and closes her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm really not ready to talk about it right now."

When she opens them, she takes a deep breath, shakes her head and smiles a weary smile.

"Blah blah blah, whatever. Actually, we haven't really been properly introduced."

The pretty blonde offers her hand.

"Please, call me Stelle; if we get bunks, I think we should be bunkmates. I call top bunk." ::biggrin

Her handshake is warm and firm, and a bit sticky with marmalade.

[Expendable]

With a charming flurish, Jack kisses Angel's hand.

*Can you hear me now? I'm Jack. This link thing is pretty spiffy... information...*

Jack gives her a friendly grin and sends Angel an image of a comically enhanced cartoon version of Pax Jack flying around defeating evil-doers. It's obviously a day dream rather than a memory.

Then an obviously real memory of Jack's high school union is sent... the hall had a poster of Slider in view in his memory.

*So what should we be calling you? Angel? Jane? Something else?*

A faint blush burned her pale cheeks.

*Angel. I... don't have a name,* Angel sent hesitantly. It was technically true - her father would disown her in a minute if he knew she was a nova. *The doctors said I have amnesia. They just called me Jane Doe so they'd have something to put on the forms.*

*so, did they sent you? Thorn and Project Utopia?*

[Asbjørn]

Harald follows the others inside, helping himself to a bowl of cereal and the darkest bread he can find - muttering something about the insanity of toast and how only the British could come up with the idea of bread that has to be burnt to a crisp to taste anything. Piling his plate up with eggs and bacon he turns around and scans the single long table filling most of the room . Not wanting to interrupt the obviously intimate moment between the angel girl and the American, the blond weather worker heads over to the other end of the table and sets his food down across from Lorena.

"Still room here, I hope?" he smiles, then returns to the serving table to pick up a few glasses and a jug of fruit juice.

As he returns he pulls his chair out and sits down, with a smile to both of the girls. He pours himself a glass of juice and gestures to the others, topping up glasses where needed, then goes about eating his cereal. After a few mouthfuls he looks at the two girls and asks, in slightly accented English

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I? You looked like you were about to consolidate the 'girl's club' over here..."

Harald runs his hands through his damp hair, tying it back in a loose pony tail.

"So... are you guys excited to be here? Or is this just another job opportunity?"

[Alex Green]

A faint blush burned her pale cheeks.

*Angel. I... don't have a name,* Angel sent hesitantly. It was technically true - her father would disown her in a minute if he knew she was a nova. *The doctors said I have amnesia. They just called me Jane Doe so they'd have something to put on the forms.*

*:Sympathy:*

*so, did they sent you? Thorn and Project Utopia?*

*I'm not sure. No one told me you were coming, but it does seem likely we were put here together. Maybe I was placed here first then they sent you here based on that?*

*Do you have anything you'd like me to relay to the others?*

[Heritage]

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I? You looked like you were about to consolidate the 'girl's club' over here..."

Harald runs his hands through his damp hair, tying it back in a loose pony tail.

"So... are you guys excited to be here? Or is this just another job opportunity?"

Stelle smiles at the handsome newcomer.

"Cute guys are always welcome at the girls' club. Am I excited? Yes, I definitly am, as well as nervous and terrified."

The American nova shakes her head thoughtfully as she smears more butter on her toast.

"This is a level of responsibilty I have never shouldered before; I think I can handle it, but who knows? Team Tomorrow members are role models; all over the world, small children will be going to sleep clutching our action figures, will pretend to be us as they carreen around the backyard, sticking their arms out as they make wooshing noises. Our successes will be amplified and broadcast almost as loudly as our failures."

She takes a big crunchy bite, chews it thorughly and swallows.

"And who's to say we even make it on the team? I hope we all do, but only time will tell. So no, I'm not just here looking for a paycheck, even though the money's nice; I'm here looking for a purpose."

Stelle turns to speak to Jack and Angel, notices what looks like an intense exchange going on, then turns back to Lorena and Harald with raised eyebrows.

"Wow. So, how about you two? How pure are your motives?" ::wink

[Centimane]

Oh, thank you! You look great in that eufiber, it really suits you

'Why thank you!', said Lorena, blushing slightly and smiling more broadly as she did.

No, it pretty much does whatever I tell it to, so it's saving me money on everything but shampoo and conditioner. Here, watch-"

She flicks her eyes upwards as her hair rises and folds in on itself as it sculpts into an ornate 18th century creation worthy of Marie Antoinette; it holds there for a few seconds before dropping back down into her earlier braid, leaving two extra limbs free to help with breakfast. The blonde nova can only chuckle as she shakes her head.

"Literally hours of amusement, I'm sad to say. And as far as the color goes - well, you can't quite see it here, but there's a fairly significant glow effect; I can almost read by it at night."

Stelle turns her attention back to her meal, which she tackles with impressive efficiency.

"Well, my eruption wasn't as dramatic as yours; I saw the clip on CNN, pretty amazing stuff. Our family lawyer said I'm not supposed to talk about it, but let’s just say it was something of an industrial accident and I hold my brother directly responsible; he's lucky I'm alive, or he would be spending a lot more time in jail."

Her tone has gotten a little harsh and her words more rushed, but then she stops herself and closes her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm really not ready to talk about it right now."

When she opens them, she takes a deep breath, shakes her head and smiles a weary smile.

"Blah blah blah, whatever. Actually, we haven't really been properly introduced."

The pretty blonde offers her hand.

"Please, call me Stelle; if we get bunks, I think we should be bunkmates. I call top bunk." ::biggrin

Her handshake is warm and firm, and a bit sticky with marmalade.

Lorena smiled sympathetically and said, 'Oh, no. I perfectly understand. I think that, for most of us, eruption is... personal to say the least. I asked only because I wish to get to know you. Forgive me for intruding where I shouldn't have.' Lorena took Estelle's hand gladly and shook it warmly. Her handshake is warm, if perhaps a bit too firm; Lori still wasn't entirely used to her new strength.

"Still room here, I hope?" [Harold] smiles, then returns to the serving table to pick up a few glasses and a jug of fruit juice.

As he returns he pulls his chair out and sits down, with a smile to both of the girls. He pours himself a glass of juice and gestures to the others, topping up glasses where needed, then goes about eating his cereal. After a few mouthfuls he looks at the two girls and asks, in slightly accented English

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I? You looked like you were about to consolidate the 'girl's club' over here..."

Lori giggled and said, 'You're not interrupting at all, we were just chit chatting.'

Harald runs his hands through his damp hair, tying it back in a loose pony tail.

"So... are you guys excited to be here? Or is this just another job opportunity?"

'Oh no!', said Lori earnestly. 'I wouldn't trade this for anything! Of course I'm excited!'

The American nova shakes her head thoughtfully as she smears more butter on her toast.

"This is a level of responsibilty I have never shouldered before; I think I can handle it, but who knows? Team Tomorrow members are role models; all over the world, small children will be going to sleep clutching our action figures, will pretend to be us as they carreen around the backyard, sticking their arms out as they make wooshing noises. Our successes will be amplified and broadcast almost as loudly as our failures."

She takes a big crunchy bite, chews it thorughly and swallows.

"And who's to say we even make it on the team? I hope we all do, but only time will tell. So no, I'm not just here looking for a paycheck, even though the money's nice; I'm here looking for a purpose."

Stelle turns to speak to Jack and Angel, notices what looks like an intense exchange going on, then turns back to Lorena and Harald with raised eyebrows.

"Wow. So, how about you two? How pure are your motives?"

Lorena smiled at Estelle's indication of their comrades.

'I must confess that I've never thought of these things as deeply as you. You seem to have thought this through much more thoroughly than I.'

Lori paused briefly to collect her thoughts, and then continued, looking equal parts earnest, wistful, and hopeful, 'I just want to be where I can do the most good, you know? I want to be where my gifts can be put to the best use. But I am still just a simple woman, nova or not. I am not like some novas who seem able to change the world entirely on their own. By working with Utopia, as a Tomorrowite, I can work with a others who feel as I do and together we can make a far greater difference than we ever could on our own.'

'Does that make sense?', she said and looked a little nervously at the two novas across from her.

[archer]

'Why thank you!', said Lorena, blushing slightly and smiling more broadly as she did.Lorena smiled sympathetically and said, 'Oh, no. I perfectly understand. I think that, for most of us, eruption is... personal to say the least. I asked only because I wish to get to know you. Forgive me for intruding where I shouldn't have.' Lorena took Estelle's hand gladly and shook it warmly. Her handshake is warm, if perhaps a bit too firm; Lori still wasn't entirely used to her new strength.

Lori giggled and said, 'You're not interrupting at all, we were just chit chatting.''Oh no!', said Lori earnestly. 'I wouldn't trade this for anything! Of course I'm excited!'Lorena smiled at Estelle's indication of their comrades.

'I must confess that I've never thought of these things as deeply as you. You seem to have thought this through much more thoroughly than I.'

Lori paused briefly to collect her thoughts, and then continued, looking equal parts earnest, wistful, and hopeful, 'I just want to be where I can do the most good, you know? I want to be where my gifts can be put to the best use. But I am still just a simple woman, nova or not. I am not like some novas who seem able to change the world entirely on their own. By working with Utopia, as a Tomorrowite, I can work with a others who feel as I do and together we can make a far greater difference than we ever could on our own.'

'Does that make sense?', she said and looked a little nervously at the two novas across from her.

With a slow, smoldering smile ::cool directed across the table at Estelle as he sits down, the dark-haired and blue-eyed Shaun answers. "Aye lass, it makes perfect sense. Forgive my interrupting, but I could'na help overhearing." He smiles again, in a general friendly fashion to all sitting there. "I'm of a similar mind to both of you. We've definitely a grave responsibility to face here, and I've given my role in things considerable thought, as you have." He nods to Estelle, his expression serious, before turning giving a smile with a bit of wicked in it to Lorena. "You may have been a simple woman before, miss, but I cannae say with any honesty that you're anything less than spectacular now." ::sly

Abruptly turning to the Norse weather-worker, he sticks out a hand in greeting. "Apologies all 'round for not properly introducing myself earlier.", he says, glancing around and down the table at everyone. "Doctor Shaun Beckett, at your service. Not of the medical persuasion, I'm afraid; you'll be needing to find someone else for plasters and stitches." He smiles self-deprecatingly. "I'm the other sort, the rather boring professor-type. Regretfully, I've only managed an eruption along those lines as well. ::glare Still, I imagine they've found some use for me here, else this will be a very short holiday."

As if suddenly remembering the plates of food he'd brought along when he sat down, Shaun starts to butter his toast, glancing up occasionally to see if anyone else will speak up.

[Expendable]

*I'm not sure. No one told me you were coming, but it does seem likely we were put here together. Maybe I was placed here first then they sent you here based on that?*

*Do you have anything you'd like me to relay to the others?*

*um, hello?*Angel smiled shyly, ducking her head slightly. *Sorry, that sounds so lame but I wasn't expecting this.*

She glanced down the table and realized the others were looking at them. Self-consciously, she pulled her hand back into her lap.

*Sorry,* she blushed slightly. *I bet they're wondering what we're doing. We should eat, dinner's so very far away.*

[Alex Green]

Jack turns to everyone, raises his voice slightly and says,

"Angel says Hello to everyone and suggests we eat while we can. She's right of course."

Jack moves to get a huge stack of assorted food.

(To Angel) *Do the docs think your muteness can be cured? You're a healer, right, that won't work?*

[Centimane]

With a slow, smoldering smile ::cool directed across the table at Estelle as he sits down, the dark-haired and blue-eyed Shaun answers. "Aye lass, it makes perfect sense. Forgive my interrupting, but I could'na help overhearing." He smiles again, in a general friendly fashion to all sitting there. "I'm of a similar mind to both of you. We've definitely a grave responsibility to face here, and I've given my role in things considerable thought, as you have." He nods to Estelle, his expression serious, before turning giving a smile with a bit of wicked in it to Lorena. "You may have been a simple woman before, miss, but I cannae say with any honesty that you're anything less than spectacular now." ::sly

Though Lorena Vasiliauskiūtė obviously had no way of knowing how true this was, she had grown up under very different circumstances than Dr. Estelle de Havilland. While her family wasn't poor, neither were they rich, and while her intelligence was respectable, it had never been enough for her to stand out from amongst her peers. And while she had only ever been made fun of for the way she looked a few times, the simple truth was that she had always very, very plain before her eruption. Add to that the fact that she'd always been too shy and quiet to make up for her lack of good looks and it should come as no surprise that, for most of her life, Lori had been never attracted very much attention from the opposite sex.

And so it was that when Dr. Shaun Beckett, who was not only good looking, but whose personality was so... affecting, turned his full attention on Lorena and gave her such a flattering compliment, the nova who was known throughout all of Europe as Aušrinė, the embodiment of beauty, youth and health was rendered momentarily speechless. Lorena's face and neck, from her hairline down to the neck of her eufiber, turned bright red and she immediately turned away and lowered her head, spending several seconds staring intently at her plate with a silly, and rather dazed smile on her face.

'Thank you.' ::blush , she said, not quite daring to look him in the eye as she said so. Lorena was just about mortified at her childish reaction to one compliment, but she was still getting used to the attention she was getting from more average men. Attention from a super-humanly charming man was something she was completely unprepared for. Just one more thing she still needed to get used to.

Abruptly turning to the Norse weather-worker, he sticks out a hand in greeting. "Apologies all 'round for not properly introducing myself earlier.", he says, glancing around and down the table at everyone. "Doctor Shaun Beckett, at your service. Not of the medical persuasion, I'm afraid; you'll be needing to find someone else for plasters and stitches." He smiles self-deprecatingly. "I'm the other sort, the rather boring professor-type. Regretfully, I've only managed an eruption along those lines as well. ::glare Still, I imagine they've found some use for me here, else this will be a very short holiday."

As if suddenly remembering the plates of food he'd brought along when he sat down, Shaun starts to butter his toast, glancing up occasionally to see if anyone else will speak up.

Somewhat recovered by this point, Lorena glanced up and said in a subdued tone and with a bob of her head, 'Pleased to meet you Dr. Beckett', and then quickly returned her stare to the plate in front of her and tried to casually return to eating. Obviously, nova-enhanced social skills hadn't solved all her problems, 'I'm such a little dork!, she thought.

Jack turns to everyone, raises his voice slightly and says,

"Angel says Hello to everyone and suggests we eat while we can. She's right of course."

Glad of the distraction, Lorena leaned forward and looked down the table to smile warmly at Angel and her 'Voice' and wave before once again returning to her meal.

[Expendable]

Jack turns to everyone, raises his voice slightly and says,

"Angel says Hello to everyone and suggests we eat while we can. She's right of course."

Angel looks up the table at the others, giving them an embarrassed smile.

Jack moves to get a huge stack of assorted food.

(To Angel) *Do the docs think your muteness can be cured? You're a healer, right, that won't work?*

Angel glanced up, her right eyebrow quirking slightly as she watched Jack walking away from her, towards the buffet table.

*I'm still new at this,* Angel replied, biting her lower lip. He was talking to her mentally - with his back to her. Joey's not here. Joey would never stand for someone turning his back on her and talking - but what could he do to a nova? And it wasn't like he could of heard this conversation - not that he needed to. She still felt naked, out in public without him watching over her, her father's extra pair of eyes. Was Joey even alive? There was nothing in the news at all....

Her hands froze. Oh god, was that a tear...? She could feel it, sliding down her cheek. Had anyone noticed?

She put the knife and fork down softly, wiping her cheek with her hand as she slid out of her seat, forcing herself to remain calm as she walked towards the door.

[ProfPotts]

Thorn put down the phone, sighed, & headed back into the castle’s conference room. The others were all seated at the large round table which was the centre-piece of the room, looking through files & trying to ignore the awkward silence. Doctor Morgan & Master Sergeant Dixon both looked up expectantly as Thorn entered, but he forestalled their question with a slight shake of his head,

‘It looks like Mister Hunter was telling the truth,’ he confirmed, reluctantly, ‘he’s been assigned here as head of public relations.’

Hunter smirked & took a long drag on his latest dog-end cigarette. A frown forming on his brow Thorn glared at the man – in response the rubber plant behind Hunter twisted & stretched to bat the offending cancer-stick out of the Londoner’s fingers & into the coffee mug he’d been using as an ashtray.

‘No smoking in Utopian facilities,’ declared Thorn, ‘I’m sure you know that already, Mister Hunter.’

Hunter glanced at the now still rubber plant, Thorn, his extinguished cigarette, the plant again, then back at Thorn & shrugged,

‘Sure,’ he replied, ‘& so do your sooper-‘eroes, yet none of ‘em did anyfin’ about it…’

‘Is…’ Doctor Morgan spoke up, her expression a mix of confusion & concern, ‘… is that significant?’

Hunter shrugged again, but Dixon leant forward on the table & replied,

‘Dinnae really mean much, ma’am… Just that they ain’t comfortable with being role models yet – they’ll build their confidence, dinnae you worry: I’ll see to that.’

Thorn nodded & took his place at the table; glancing at the assorted files he said,

‘The Master Sergeant’s right, Doctor – we have to start them at the beginning, give them a chance to grow into their roles…’

‘You don’t want another Corbin, right mate?’ Hunter interjected. Thorn barely contained a snarl, but couldn’t help himself from agreeing – the early days of Team Tomorrow were as much trial & error as anything: the Project couldn’t afford any more mistakes like Corbin.

Taking the first file Thorn opened it to see photos & press clippings of ‘the Angel of Saint George’, along with detailed reports from her time at the London Rashoud facility,

‘So,’ he began, glancing at the others, ‘we’ll start with our “mysterious” Angel: Doctor?’

Doctor Morgan swallowed & nodded, seeming nervous whenever Thorn’s attention was directed towards her. Finding solace in staring at the reports on her PDA she replied,

‘Well, ah… The wings & the fire are interesting, of course, but her power with the most potential is really the “healing kiss” – we don’t see Novas manifest that sort of thing often… I think DeVries have a couple on their payroll, but it is rare.’

‘It’s a bleedin’ nightmare is what it is,’ mutters Hunter. Turning slowly towards the PR man Thorn raised an eyebrow,

‘And why would that be, Mister Hunter? Surely the ability to heal is a great boon to mankind?’

‘Well, sure,’ replied Hunter, ‘but let me give you a number: two-‘undred & fifty-seven.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘That’s how many requests we’ve already ‘ad for th’ girl’s “kiss”.’

‘That doesn’t seem too many,’ replied Doctor Morgan, ‘after all, the public have known about her for quite a while now, &…’

‘No, no,’ interrupted Hunter, holding up his hand to stop the Doctor in mid-sentence, ‘two-‘undred & fifty-bleedin’-seven this mornin’, before I left for this god-forsaken lump of rock.’

The others exchanged surprised glances,

‘Ah,’ Doctor Morgan finally offered, ‘I see…’

‘Yeah, well,’ Hunter continued, ‘it gets worse: there’s the whole religious nut-job angle – not to mention th’ “mute” bit: you’ve seen “Life of Brian”, right? She says nothin’, they all start to think she’s some flamin’ messenger from God for real. We need to play down th’ religious connection, & let slip ‘ints that ‘er ‘ealin’ powers are limited in some way – can only be used now & then sorta’ thing. Otherwise we’ll never ‘ear th’ last of it.’

Thorn found himself nodding again – obnoxious though he was, Hunter was making a certain amount of sense… maybe he was the right man for the job?

‘Right,’ said the Nova, ‘Master Sergeant?’

Dixon glanced at Angel’s file,

‘Some combat training, plus the fire-breathing & flaming sword bit: the lassie best be careful with those though, unless she wants to start maiming & killing people. She can generate some sort of protective barrier too, which is obviously handy. Plus her flight range is pretty impressive: with those wings of hers she can soar as well as fly, & she’s got a high level of stamina.’

‘Good,’ Thorn picked up the next file, ‘Moving on: Harold “Primeval” Anker.’

‘Well, with all the eye-candy in this lot, we need somefin’ for th’ ladies, right?’ Hunter winked at Doctored Morgan, causing her to blush & return quickly to studying her PDA. ‘Besides,’ Hunter added, ‘that nature-boy stuff is always good PR for Utopia, we can use that.’

Eyes firmly downcast Doctor Morgan agreed,

‘Yes, um… his powers seem to influence a wide range of “nature”: plants, animals, the weather. His diversity is high, although his control isn’t as complete as some of the others. With some experience he could prove to be a great asset to the Project’s terraforming operations.’

Thorn smiled at that – he’d put in his time with the terraformers himself: it was rewarding work in its way, saving the planet, but it didn’t provide the day-to-day buzz which Team Tomorrow did.

Master Sergeant Dixon took his turn to comment,

‘Some combat experience – bar fight stuff I’d imagine. Like the good Doctors says, he can do a lot, but not necessarily as well as some of the others: with the right tactical leadership though he’d be a great asset, good in support of others. Pretty minimal defences though.’

‘Speaking of “tactical leadership”,’ Thorn found the relevant file, ‘Shaun “Doctor Impossible” Beckett – comments?’

‘Who chose that name?’ Master Sergeant Dixon chuckled to himself. It was Hunter’s turn to frown,

‘Th’ name’s important,’ he explained, ‘makes ‘im more ‘uman, right? In fact, we want people to refer to ‘im as “Doc” if possible – takes the edge off th’ big brain thing. To average folks like me, that bloke’s the scariest of th’ lot of ‘em – th’ sort ‘oo can build “quantum bombs” & all that nonsense. It terrifies folks. We need “Doc Impossible” to be th’ “Nova next door” – as down to earth as bleedin’ possible. Of course, it ‘elps that th’ ladies dampen their panties around ‘im too…’

Doctor Morgan let slip a small yelp of embarrassment, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as her blush deepened. Dixon snarled &, if not for a quick gesture from Thorn, would have taught Hunter a lesson about how to speak in the company of ladies. As it was Thorn tried to move on quickly,

‘Doctor Morgan? Your assessment?’

The good Doctor, face now completely red, murmured,

‘Well, I… I guess he’s good looking, but I…’

‘No, no!’ Thorn interrupted quickly, ‘Your scientific assessment, Doctor!’

‘Oh,’ Doctor Morgan looked about ready to die, but managed to continue, ‘of course… His intelligence is, as you may expect, off the charts, with particular talent in quantum engineering – S & T are quite exited about several of his projects already.’

‘Several..?’ asked Thorn, ‘Just how many projects does the “Doc” work on?’

‘We can’t be sure,’ Doctor Morgan admitted, ‘he seems tireless – only takes a nap once every few days, if that. He also seems to physically need the stimulus he gets from learning & experimentation: almost as if his body now feeds off knowledge. It’s fascinating stuff, really. We’ve set up a lab & workshop to his specifications in the North tower – to be honest, I can’t make head nor tail of most of the stuff he’s got in there, but S & T are making sure to monitor him closely… he doesn’t seem to mind.’

‘An asset to be sure,’ agreed Thorn, ‘but what about in the field? Master Sergeant?’

Dixon smiled,

‘You’d be surprised, sir,’ he replied, ‘Beckett is something of a tactical genius too. Plus his learning isn’t limited to academic subjects – in the short time he was at the Rashoud facility he mastered several of the more challenging martial arts forms in his spare time… said it relaxed him… Physically he is a little vulnerable, but he mentioned that he was working on something to deal with that… wouldn’t say what & I dinnae press him on it – chances are I’d just have ended up looking open mouthed & stupid as he tried to explain it, ken?’

Thorn smiled,

‘It sounds like we all would, Master Sergeant. Now… Bridger?’

[ProfPotts]

‘Bleedin’ septic!’ exclaimed Hunter, ‘That one’s almost worse than th’ Angel or th’ Doc – whatever we do, we can’t let ‘im go on about th’ Slider thing… People loved Slider – I needn’t tell you that, right? – they ain’t gonna’ love some guy they see as a “replacement” or “wannabe”. Jack “Bridger” Davidson needs to make ‘is own mark, not ride on th’ coattails of a dead ‘eroine. Plus, best if 'ee not mention that whole “sucked my pal’s brains out at th’ reunion” fing either – that sort of talk gets us sued, & makes people nervous: nobody wants some Nova identity thief runnin’ about, right? But, all said & done, he’s even more of a lady-killer than the Norwegian ‘ippy or th’ big brain – that, at least, counts in ‘is favour.’

‘Technically,’ Doctor Morgan responded, ‘Bridger’s powers don’t really match Sliders at all – they’re more like what people perceived her powers to be, which matches the circumstances of his eruption, right after her death when she was all anyone was talking about. He’s peak human-potential across the board, but the “warp” ability is his greatest power. He’s already learning to use it for more than travel though – the way he uses it to “bounce” attacks shows a great deal of potential as far as his future development goes. While his telepathic abilities seem residual, there’s also potential there as well.’

‘Tactically,’ Dixon takes his turn, ‘Bridger’s obviously most useful for transportation purposes. He also seems to have erupted with impressive martial arts talents, but offensively & defensively he’s still quite vulnerable. As team support his abilities are invaluable.’

Thorn opened the next file to look at the many pictures of Doctor Estelle de Havilland – both pre- & post-eruption,

‘Gossamer?’ he asked simply.

‘Oh, ‘er we like,’ responded Hunter, with a rather slimy leer, ‘focus groups reckon th’ younger kids’ll love ‘er – th’ ‘ole “Barbie ‘air” fing. Well, younger kids ‘n’ th’ dirty ol’ mac brigade, but that’s a given, right? ‘er powers are distinctive, but she ain’t so goddess-like to be totally unobtainable – makes for a popular people’s choice. She’s also not daft, & ‘as experience with th’ press ‘n’ the like. Yeah – she’s probably your PR front-person of choice, right now.’

Thorn couldn’t help but wonder if the odious Hunter actually thought he had a chance with the glamorous Doctor Estelle, but held his tongue on the matter, instead turning to Doctor Morgan for her scientific analysis.

‘Ah, yes,’ Doctor Morgan began, glancing at her notes, ‘Gossamer’s “animate hair”. It’s really quite wonderful you know – S & T are already looking to see if they can develop a synthetic version, fibres with that tensile strength & sheerness would be ideal for QuanTech’s body armour, as well as numerous other applications. Doctor de Havilland herself seems to have mastered control of her unusual… urm… “appendage” I guess you could say… with impressive results: she can lift a great deal of weight, with a top range of well over sixty tons; she can also co-ordinate up to four separate “tendrils” of hair at once, & still use her hands as normal.’

Thorn couldn’t help but wonder at a world where “animate hair” could be used in a serious conversation… yet his own ability to animate plants wasn’t any less bizarre, so who was he to talk? Master Sergeant Dixon was up next,

‘Aye, in those same tests where they found out how much the lassie could lift she also crushed breeze blocks to powder with that hair of hers; & that co-ordination the Doctor mentioned applies to fighting too - don’t underestimate what Gossamer could do in a battle. Still, again, her defences aren’t great – if any attacks get past the hair, she’d be in trouble.’

‘And what,’ asked Thorn, ‘of our other two female recruits: Saadet “Sirocco” Mansur & Lorena “Aušriné” Vasiliauskiūtė?’

‘Oh, very nice,’ Hunters leer was back, ‘both Nova babe knockouts, right? Th’ Turkish chick’s got th’ ‘ole “’ips don’t lie” fing goin’ on, which’ll be sure to get th’ essential thirteen to one-‘undred ‘n’ bleedin’ thirteen male demographic interested. She’s also not, you know, white – ‘n’ that “international” fing is good for th’ Project’s image. “Ows-yer-father” is, well… she is th’ “goddess” type, right? I mean, ‘ave you seen those Georgie Bests? Blimey – she’s walkin’, talkin’ Viagra that one! Great on camera, & already ‘as a fan base… In fact, we ‘ad to bring th’ big gun lawyer types to bear to make sure none of them pics of ‘er slipped through th’ ‘ole “licensed image” bit, right? Powers are nice & simple for us unwashed masses to understand too, eh. Biggest problem’ll be beatin’ ‘em off wiff a stick, like.’

Quite taken aback by Hunter’s rather… candid… summary of the female team members Doctor Morgan eventually clears her throat & tries to carry on regardless,

‘Yes, well… ah… Sirocco’s mastery of the air shows impressive power & control both, & offer her a versatile range of applications – she’s another recruit with potential in the terraforming arena. I… ah… don’t feel qualified to comment on other aspects of her talents which Mister Hunter seems to have so… eloquently… already covered. Aušriné’s ability to dramatically increase her mass, as well as rapidly regenerate, makes her one of the strongest Novas in the world in terms of raw muscular ability, & pretty hard to hurt as well.’

Dixon nods,

‘True enough, Doctor,’ he agrees, ‘that lassie’s your front-line, right there. Of course that much strength is bound to be useful for much, much, more than simple fighting, but if it comes down to it she has both the power & the skills to use it. Sirocco is also going to be one of the best in a fight – she knows how to use those “air control” powers of hers, & that makes her valuable on the battlefield as both a heavy-hitter at range & to clear out low-level threats en-mass.’ Chuckling slightly he adds, with a wink, ‘I guess I could comment on the ladies other attributes, but I’m more of a gentleman than Hunter here…’

Thorn leaned back in his chair, closing the last folder,

‘Thank you: Doctor, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘that’s a very helpful overview.’

Of course, the leader of Team Tomorrow – Europe thought to himself, in the end it’s not so much the individuals, but how they work as a team which counts: he knew that’s what he’d be looking for, that’s what he wanted in T2M – Europe… team players. Hopefully one or more of these recruits would work out… either one of them, or one of the others. Reaching for the second stack of files he said,

‘Right, while we’re here, let’s take a look at some of these other potentials: astral projection, growth… & this German “jigsaw” man… I’m sure there are more potential Tomorrowites out there somewhere…’

[Prince of Boredom]

Saadet finally made her way into the dining hall, surveying the room. She'd stayed behind, lingered outside in the courtyard a bit longer than the others, revelling in the feel of the the cool wind blowing off the sea. Now, as she stood in the doorway to the dining hall, she felt stifled; no, it was more as if she could feel the stagnant air inside the room, its longing to escape to freedom.

It was a strange feeling, and one she was still getting used. She'd always enjoyed the outdoors, having grown up in the small Turkish coastal city of Mersin, spending much of her childhood on the beach or in the sea, but she'd never really been claustrophobic. After her eruption, however, whenever she entered the confines of four walls, she had felt caged in; a prisoner. Worried about her mental stability, the Utopia doctors and psychiatrists at the Roashoud clinic in Istanbul ran innumberable tests, finally concluding that she was in fact not claustrophic. They said that it was simply a byproduct of her 'powers' she had been gifted with. It seemed that her manipulation of quantum energies that allowed her to control the wind had given her a sense of how air around her was 'feeling'. Or so they said. In fact, they had told here that they weren't entirely certain whether her 'sense' was truly a byproduct of her quantum manipulation, or simply her mind's way of dealing with her new power. Regardless, they taught her how to deal with the feelings, to supress them to the point that they didn't unduly affect her, and then they'd signed her off as fit for duty.

Shaking her head, she began to make her way into the dining hall, only to stop two steps into it. Her eyes immediately were drawn to the two beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. She wasn't sure why, but she'd always loved crystal. Even as a child, she would save the little money she earned recycling old bottles, just to buy the cheap crystal figurines the street vendors sold downtown. But she'd never seen anything like these chandeliers in her life. She awed at how the light reflected off of them, the rainbow reflections they made. She had the urge the lift herself up to them, to see their beauty up close, to touch the delicate crystal teardrops that hung effortlessly around the central feature. As her mind began to reach out, grab the air within the room, add to it to take her aloft, she stopped herself. Glancing around, she noticed the others already eating, already bonding. It wouldn't do to make a spectacle of herself today.

Making a plan to see the chandeliers up close when there were less people about, Saadet quickly made her way over to the buffet-style tables. Grabbing a plate, actually two, she scanned the food, only to be dissappointed. Clearly the Scottish didn't understand how to prepare a proper Mediterranean breakfast. There were no tomatoes, no cucumbers, no kalamata olives, and perhaps the worst, no beyaz peynir*! Making a mental note to have a chat with the cook's later, she grabbed some eggs, fried potatoes and toast with strawberry jam and made her way over to the table.

Carefully balancing her two plates, apparently those 3 months as a waitress at her uncles restaurant paid off, Saadet took the closest seat she could find, ending up on the more 'vocal' side of the table.

As she takes her seat, the others notice that while the air inside the room is quite calm, a slight breeze, smelling of freshly picked figs, appears to be blowing into her face. Waiting for a lull in the conversation, she nods to the others, and with a 'smile that could launch a thousand ships' simply says, "Hi, I'm Saadet." Her accent is clearly not typical American or European, clearly closer to Arabic, though slightly different to the discerning ear.

* Literally, 'White Cheese'. Specifically white sheep's chesse very similar to Greek Feta (though never tell a Turk it's like Greek food...)

[knave]

‘Oh, very nice,’ Hunters leer was back, ‘both Nova babe knockouts, right? Th’ Turkish chick’s got th’ ‘ole “’ips don’t lie” fing goin’ on, which’ll be sure to get th’ essential thirteen to one-‘undred ‘n’ bleedin’ thirteen male demographic interested. She’s also not, you know, white –

...

::ohmy *Oops*

Saadet finally made her way into the dining hall, surveying the room.

::happy *Wow!*

the long oak table is large enough to seat everyone with room to spare, twin crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, & side tables groan under the mass of silver trays laid out, full to the brim with bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, mushrooms, hash browns, & other high-protein food, as well as rounds & rounds of toast (with the finest Scottish marmalade & a selection of jams), bowls of cereal, continental-style breakfast pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed fruit juices, pots of fresh ground coffee, & a selection of teas. Plates & silverware are next to the food, indicating that it's a self-service meal. Two bay windows offer a rather magnificent view of the sea crashing against the rocks, under the pale grey sky, not far from the castle walls.

*Food! (and no borscht! ::biggrin ) And many attractive people in tight eufiber underwear! Yes, this must be the place!*

A prickle runs across the skins of the several of the novas present in the room as a translucent silver sillouette whispers itself into existence and pulls back a free chair. The ephemeral figure is definitely male, rail-thin and very tall, and, as it moves to sit becomes increasingly more defined. The wraith reaches for a plate and begins shovelling eggs, bacon and bread onto it, and slowly fills in - becoming more and more solid as more and more food is piled onto the plate.

A shock of short, spiky and entirely white hair crown the figure's head. His skin is milky pale, and he is clad in a looser, largely white eufiber T2M uniform clearly designed to blur rather than show-off a physique far to skinny to be nova perfect. He is smiling broadly, showing off a good set of teeth, and is obviously looking toward the plate of piled up breakfast with some relish. Taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs, he turns to the rest of those assembled (displaying eyes so washed out at the pale blue irises are almost invisible) and speaks - his voice deep and strongly russian accented, "Hi! I am Pyotr Ivanov, and I am wery much looking forward to being a hero with you, my new Team Tomorrow friends and comerades! Oh, I am also called Haunt, but don't be afraid, I am nice really!"

[archer]

Carefully balancing her two plates, apparently those 3 months as a waitress at her uncles restaurant paid off, Saadet took the closest seat she could find, ending up on the more 'vocal' side of the table.

As she takes her seat, the others notice that while the air inside the room is quite calm, a slight breeze, smelling of freshly picked figs, appears to be blowing into her face. Waiting for a lull in the conversation, she nods to the others, and with a 'smile that could launch a thousand ships' simply says, "Hi, I'm Saadet." Her accent is clearly not typical American or European, clearly closer to Arabic, though slightly different to the discerning ear.

Glancing up as Saadet takes a seat next to Estelle, noting the beauty of the Angel at the end of the table, and feeling the warmth of Lorena's hip next to his, Shaun can't help the thought sneaking through to his consciousness. *My word. I am a very lucky man.*

Smiling as she sits down, his attention is rather suddenly diverted as a ghostly figure materializes out of thin air!

A shock of short, spiky and entirely white hair crown the figure's head. His skin is milky pale, and he is clad in a looser, largely white eufiber T2M uniform clearly designed to blur rather than show-off a physique far to skinny to be nova perfect. He is smiling broadly, showing off a good set of teeth, and is obviously looking toward the plate of piled up breakfast with some relish. Taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs, he turns to the rest of those assembled (displaying eyes so washed out at the pale blue irises are almost invisible) and speaks - his voice deep and strongly russian accented, "Hi! I am Pyotr Ivanov, and I am wery much looking forward to being a hero with you, my new Team Tomorrow friends and comerades! Oh, I am also called Haunt, but don't be afraid, I am nice really!"

Letting out a slow whistle, Beckett puts on a welcoming smile. "No fear here, lad. Have a seat next to me if you like."

After Ivan sits down to a friendly pat on the shoulder from Shaun, the doctor looks around at the rest of the table. "Our young new friend here has inspired me to ask what will hopefully not be too indelicate a question, but one I imagine we should really all share at some point. What, specifically, are our unique abilities? I recognize that some of us shared a bit with the charming Master Sergeant Dixon, but I fear such a public setting may have caused some abbreviation in those descriptions."

Taking a sip of his tea, Shaun settles the cup back onto its saucer, and clears his throat. "I suppose I'll go first. At the risk of sounding horribly immodest, I'm incredibly intelligent. Apparently intelligent enough to have Utopia's Science and Technology division extremely excited to have me on board. Prior to my eruption, I was an engineer and researcher, and very good at both. According to some conversations overheard during my stay at the Rashoud facility, they suspect that I am now on par with DeVries resident genius Rachel Alinsky." He smiles uncomfortably, unused to being so forthright. Still, he makes himself continue. "What initially surprised me, however, is Team Tomorrow's interest being strong enough to insist on my placement here, though I believe I'm finally beginning to understand why." His voice drops a bit at the end, betraying a slight trace of some negative emotion, though it's hard to tell what exactly.

[Expendable]

Angel sighed as she came back inside, a few minutes outside helped her to regain control - but now there was a new person among them...?

After Ivan sits down to a friendly pat on the shoulder from Shaun, the doctor looks around at the rest of the table. "Our young new friend here has inspired me to ask what will hopefully not be too indelicate a question, but one I imagine we should really all share at some point. What, specifically, are our unique abilities? I recognize that some of us shared a bit with the charming Master Sergeant Dixon, but I fear such a public setting may have caused some abbreviation in those descriptions."

Taking a sip of his tea, Shaun settles the cup back onto its saucer, and clears his throat. "I suppose I'll go first. At the risk of sounding horribly immodest, I'm incredibly intelligent. Apparently intelligent enough to have Utopia's Science and Technology division extremely excited to have me on board. Prior to my eruption, I was an engineer and researcher, and very good at both. According to some conversations overheard during my stay at the Rashoud facility, they suspect that I am now on par with DeVries resident genius Rachel Alinsky." He smiles uncomfortably, unused to being so forthright. Still, he makes himself continue. "What initially surprised me, however, is Team Tomorrow's interest being strong enough to insist on my placement here, though I believe I'm finally beginning to understand why." His voice drops a bit at the end, betraying a slight trace of some negative emotion, though it's hard to tell what exactly.

Managing a shy smile, she walked past the rest to resume her seat. The eggs were getting cold. Picking up her fork, she started shovelling them in.

[Asbjørn]

"This is a level of responsibilty I have never shouldered before; I think I can handle it, but who knows? Team Tomorrow members are role models; all over the world, small children will be going to sleep clutching our action figures, will pretend to be us as they carreen around the backyard, sticking their arms out as they make wooshing noises. Our successes will be amplified and broadcast almost as loudly as our failures."

::biggrin Harald laughs at the vivid images Estelle describes, but nods his agreement at the serious parts.

"Wow. So, how about you two? How pure are your motives?" ::wink

Harald runs a hand through his hair and glances over at Lorena, smiling "Ladies first..?"

Lori paused briefly to collect her thoughts, and then continued, looking equal parts earnest, wistful, and hopeful, 'I just want to be where I can do the most good, you know? I want to be where my gifts can be put to the best use. But I am still just a simple woman, nova or not. I am not like some novas who seem able to change the world entirely on their own. By working with Utopia, as a Tomorrowite, I can work with a others who feel as I do and together we can make a far greater difference than we ever could on our own.'

'Does that make sense?', she said and looked a little nervously at the two novas across from her.

The young weather worker pops a hard boiled egg into his mouth and nods, his faceing going a bit red as he swallows a bit too much at once.

"Yeth i doth... Sorry... Yes it does. Belonging to something bigger than yourself..?"

Harald wipes the corners of his mouth and takes a sip of his orange juice before adding

"That's pretty much what I was thinking, really. A chance to do work that matters. That, and where else could we get this good a chance to learn more about our own abilities? I won't lie and say I hadn't thought about the fanclub and merchandising side, but to me... well, my powers can easily make things worse in the world if I don't use them right, but here.. here I can count, be someone, make a difference."

Abruptly turning to the Norse weather-worker, he sticks out a hand in greeting. "Apologies all 'round for not properly introducing myself earlier.", he says, glancing around and down the table at everyone. "Doctor Shaun Beckett, at your service. Not of the medical persuasion, I'm afraid; you'll be needing to find someone else for plasters and stitches." He smiles self-deprecatingly. "I'm the other sort, the rather boring professor-type. Regretfully, I've only managed an eruption along those lines as well. ::glare Still, I imagine they've found some use for me here, else this will be a very short holiday."

Taking the doc's hand and shaking it, the Norwegian smiles in return.

"Harald here. That's with two A's."

Having introduced himself again, Harald is quiet for a while, just watching the new arrivals to the table, with polite interest in Haunt's case and poorly concealed ogling in Sirocco's...

As Doctor Impossible presents himself again, Harald chuckles and shakes his head slightly.

"Man, I wish that was me. ::biggrin A slightly bigger brain would make it a bit easier to figure out these powers of mine. Lots of things I haven't really got a grip on yet, you know? Like, I can control weather - that includes winds too, by the way, " he adds with a nod to Sirocco, "... but weather patterns are hard to figure out, and there's only a few tricks I've really got covered yet. Same with the water thing... I can breathe under water, and can increase and decrease the size of a body of water easy enough, but there is so much more I should be able to do that's just hard to get right. For example, I can swim almost as fast as I can fly, but it's really tiring."

"Oh, and I can talk to animals," he adds, seeming a little embarassed. "And plants. Don't ask me about what."

[knave]

Smiling as she sits down, his attention is rather suddenly diverted as a ghostly figure materializes out of thin air!

Letting out a slow whistle, Beckett puts on a welcoming smile. "No fear here, lad. Have a seat next to me if you like."

After Ivan sits down to a friendly pat on the shoulder from Shaun, the doctor looks around at the rest of the table.

Pyotr ::biggrin s broadly up at Shaun's friendly gesture, though the effect of the that with his particular eyes is pretty sinister. Unintentionally so apparently, as Pyotr nods acknowledgement and shovels more food into his mouth.

"Our young new friend here has inspired me to ask what will hopefully not be too indelicate a question, but one I imagine we should really all share at some point. What, specifically, are our unique abilities? I recognize that some of us shared a bit with the charming Master Sergeant Dixon, but I fear such a public setting may have caused some abbreviation in those descriptions."

Pyotr nods again - still chewing.

Taking a sip of his tea, Shaun settles the cup back onto its saucer, and clears his throat. "I suppose I'll go first. At the risk of sounding horribly immodest, I'm incredibly intelligent. Apparently intelligent enough to have Utopia's Science and Technology division extremely excited to have me on board. Prior to my eruption, I was an engineer and researcher, and very good at both. According to some conversations overheard during my stay at the Rashoud facility, they suspect that I am now on par with DeVries resident genius Rachel Alinsky."

*Bleh, bleh bleh.* nodding pleasantly and (eating)

He smiles uncomfortably, unused to being so forthright. Still, he makes himself continue. "What initially surprised me, however, is Team Tomorrow's interest being strong enough to insist on my placement here, though I believe I'm finally beginning to understand why." His voice drops a bit at the end, betraying a slight trace of some negative emotion, though it's hard to tell what exactly.

Raising an entirely white eyebrow at this last statement Pyotr looks genuinely interested. "Da - yes I mean. You will tell us what you suspect, yes? Oh, yes, what I do. I show you quickly - it is in lots of books" ::biggrin

Haunt's eyelids flicker incedibly fast for a moment and what little colour he has seems to drain...

Then the lights flicker all about as a shimmering translucent silver form floats horizontally beside one of the crystal chandeliers, idly nudging the chandelier's main body with one hand... before vanishing again.

Pyotr's continues eating as the reflected light flickers about the room.

-- visible to Shaun alone --

A silvery ephemeral overlay of Pyotr's face turns toward Shaun and whispers words into his mind, **You were saying about what you suspect?**

Swallowing, Pyotr says, daring a quick glance across at the ladies in the room - "I used to, ah... work with disabled children and dolphins... in Moscow."

-- an uncanny effect takes place with those of the group not following this conversations - it's asif Pyotr was fading into the background as they look away - becoming ephemeral and transparent - enough to cause a few double-takes, though the effect does not occur whilst anyone is actually looking at him.

"but yes, I heard some of power descriptions in the briefing room..." He shrugs. ::biggrin "Wrong turn..."