Aberrant: 200X - Victoria Crush Charity Extravaganza

[Silvertalon]

"Awww and I really wanted to see Robot Robs last match in person. I bet it was awesome! I bet he really worked over that brute good!"

She brushed off some of the powered cleaning supplies off her skirt and shirt. A bucket on her foot was easily kicked off, "Still if it was him whom pushed me in there that's not funny at all just plain rude." She straightens herself up quickly.

"Your.... Sakurako the Robot Robs manger?" Taking a moment to realize whom she was speaking with. "You are!?!.. But.. who's that?" She turns to watch mary leave with a puzzled expression.

"Oh I forgot something!" She dips back into the closet and pulls out her big number one finger with Robot Rob is #1, on it!

[Doryoku]

Sakurako smiles. "Yeah, I was. Mary's.... a tech for the event. She got smacked around by Brickhouse. He's not doing so good right now so... yeah."

She helps brush off the beleaguered woman and helps adjust her clothes. "There we go. I hope things didn't go too badly in there. Look, I gotta go see my Brother about a few things and get a change of clothing..."

"You know... you got some stains there... I know... lemmie do something nice for ya."

Sakurako unzips the front of her bodysuit, and tosses it to the woman. Revealing a skin-tight purple and white eufiber bodysuit not looking more dissimilar to a plugsuit. "You can wear that over your clothes if need-be, and tell your friends you got it from Sakurako Hideyoshi herself! Just don't let me catch you selling that on E-Bay unless it's for charity, okay?"

[Silvertalon]

"Was?" she looks a little confused and nods a bit looking at mary whom turns a corner and is gone for a brief moment. The look clearly she didn't understand why a tech would be knocked around by brickhouse she only nodded. "I see.. I hope Rob is okay.. I would love to see him fight again soon."

She can't help but to flush a little as Sakurako brushes off her clothing noticing some stains. "No.. Not at all it was just a little inconvenient having missed the show and all."

She was a little taken back by the sudden item being tossed to her as she unfolded with a surprised look. Then back up at Sakurako with a big smile "No way! I wouldn't sell this for anything! Thank you so much!" She gives Sakurako a nice big hug and giggles... "C..could you.. umm sign this?" She offers up the big foam hand with the biggest smile and cutest puppy dog eyes she can muster!

[WhiteRain]

Chang watched the events unfolding before her, each more ostentatious than the last. She smiled at Superbeast's ridiculous showmatch, and stirred inside at Bombshell and Knockout's announcements.

Yet, for all that, she knew she did not quite belong.

This place, this event, and at a guess ninety per cent of everyone involved in it, were dedicated to a cause she did not care for. Oddly, Chang found herself thinking about her husk's childhood, those memories from the life destroyed and remade by her eruption.

Her husk's mother had always believed in Feng Shui. Everything had its place, she had said, even people. Chang had joked once or twice that if visitors came, her mother would insist they sit in just such a place so as not to disturb the energy of the room.

But the belief had been nothing to joke about. It had been no amusing idiosynchracy, but a deep belief that people should only be where they belonged, and do what ought to be done when there. Her husk's mother had always said that those led by the hand belonged nowhere, and so should do nothing.

The day that her mother had explained that to her, after she overheard Chang muttering about it, had been a pivotal one. She never forgot that quiet talk, and had resolved ever after to go where she belonged.

Yet here she sat, half-woman, half-chair, all Nova, and uncertain of her reasons for coming.

Oh, Bombshell had asked. But what truth lay in that? The asking had no effect on her feelings. The baseline's entertainment meant nothing to her, nor did their suffering. Would it not have been more appropriate to give up her offerings and not attend?

The thoughts bothered her more than she could say.

She felt a song coming on.

At that moment, the youth who had addressed her earlier spoke up again.

"Donald Wallace, or Evo," he said, offering the polite smiles people often did when trying their hardest not to see Chang in her fullness. It was not lost to her that he had yet to properly look her over. Even baselines did better than that. "Not a big name, I'm here because I erupted in the Crush. Which is all for the better, I wonder if these big names really care a whit for the charity and giving the survivors a leg up."

Some twinge of emotion crossed his face, then. It could have been anger or sadness or both. Perhaps something altogether different.

"Anyway, I'm not doing the rough and tumble, personally. Let's just say I am going through a madman's obstacle course. I imagine you're not fighting either, are you?"

"I imagine that most of those here care somewhat about the cause," she replied amiably, her voice a four-toned, unnatural and beauteous harmony. It was hard to speak with a single sound when the music stirred in her. "At least, rather more than I. You are correct that I am not fighting. I've come to present a sculpture that will be auctioned off to generate revenue for the crush fund. Most likely, quite a lot of revenue. That might be because I dabble in sculpture, or because I have some secret talent for it." She gave a shrug. "In truth I have no idea what motivates the baselines to part with their money. Well, other than her, of course."

As she said that, the screen ahead was focusing on the exquisite racks of Bombshell and Knockout. Lust was a simple, comprehensible motivation.

"That said," she murmured, "I have a strange hankering for a song. Perhaps I'll sing a song tonight as well."

Chang watched the men passing by at the back of the room, moving quietly past on their hurried errangs. She sought pen and paper. There had to be some attendant or other, an attaché or secretary waiting for one of the Novas to come back and give their life meaning.

Sure enough, one appeared.

She stretched out her arm, winding it through and between the assembled Novas like an ever-growing serpent. And like a serpent, she struck; snatching the man's notepad from his breast pocket. A pen had been hooked into the binder. Two for one.

Her arm retracted, and she flipped the pad open. The baseline had not even realized what she had done, though he had paused and seemed to wonder what he ought to be doing.

Words and song blazed in her mind, and she began to write, filling a page and flicking to the next so fast she seemed almost to be flipping through the blank pad. Only a momentary flash of her hand betrayed what she was actually doing.

The baseline was thinking about approaching her. He stood on the edge of the room, eyes wide, sweating, staring at her the way his sort often did.

She gave him no need to.

With her writing done, Chang ripped out half of the pages in the book, all filled with musical notation and words. She hooked the pen back into the rings and tossed it over her shoulder in his direction. He did not react, too startled to respond, and so the pad struck his chest. The pen hooked his pocket for a moment, and he scrambled just in time to catch the pad before it fell.

Though Chang's head was raised, facing the screen, she flickered through the pages in her lap. She had made five drafts of the song in the space of three minutes, and now looked them over with a critical eye.

The song encapsulated her doubts, the confusion this event had stirred in her heart. Fitting enough, she had titled it 'Belonging'. It would be part of her next album, she could see that much. It had come out well, but would need a little work. Perhaps she would sing it tonight.

In the background, the baseline slunk away, shaking his head. "Freak," he muttered.

"Indeed," Chang said, her voices soft. "And a thousand times the better for it."

She had paid little attention to the fights below, impressive though they were. When Brickhouse lost, and dramatically, and did not get back up, Chang paid a little more attention.

For a moment she thought someone had died, but then saw him being wheeled out and heard he was alive. It seemed quite senseless to her. Everybody else seemed to be enjoying themselves, though.

Chang's lip twisted a little. No. She did not belong here at all. This was the XWF, she reminded herself. As debauched and material as could be, its brow so low that it needed a depths scale to measure it, even as it offered up a serving of the greatest fighting entertainment the world could offer.

Not for the first time, she wondered if this was all Novas were, in the end. And if so, no wonder Mal had written the Null Manifesto. No wonder he had been desperate to light a spark of revolution in his fellow Novas.

She leaned back in her chair-self, and concentrated on softening the surface supporting her back. By the end of the evening, she felt that she would be quite depressed. Might as well be relaxed on the way.

[Doryoku]

Sakurako smiles, and pulls out an inkpen from a sleeve on her ViaPad, and signs it. "Okay. Well... I gotta see my brother up in one of the skyboxes. Take care now!"

Sakurako smiles as she walks off. "Oh..." Sakurako throws a flash-drive with a odd serial number on it. "That has the software to change the OLED pattern on that suit. Just play around with it as you see fit on a computer before you plug it into the suit itself."

Sakurako bows before walking away. "Enjoy."

[Silvertalon]

"Thank you Sakurako! So much!" She takes the thumb drive to and giggles happily with her prizes in hand. She waves the nice nova off as she turns herself to watch the rest of the show. Her tummy grumbling a little clearly hungry having extended so much of her nova powers. Yet she kept herself well hidden and will continue to do so keeping an eye on the event.

But first she needed to put her items into storage as she headed over to one of the lockers near by. Paying the small charge she safely stowed her gifts with a slight grin upon her lips. Curious now what will take place today's events and what mischief she could get into later on.

[Evo]

Donald paused as he observed Chang snatch up the pad and paper rapaciously, and work over it. He bit his lip at the display but let it be so she could write. He studied the fight, eyes widening as the Brickhouse nearly keeled over- then sighed tightly. He had enough experience of fighting and the Congo already to know that battles were not games.

"Some day people need to reassess their entertainment. Maybe take up collecting nova sculptures." Donald muttered exasperatedly under his breath. There had been a time when he jerked off to pictures of Bombshell and cheered at the XWF, no more.

Then, with the pause, he turned his chair away from the screens and commented to Chang: "You know, you could have just asked. Good manners hasn't entirely forsaken this world."

[WhiteRain]

As Chang reclined, lost in thought, Donald spoke up again.

"Some day people need to reassess their entertainment. Maybe take up collecting nova sculptures."

She focused on him a little more. Listened to the depth of his sigh, watched the furrow of his brow. He did not like the XWF over much, it appeared.

He turned his chair away from the screens, facing her full on for the first time "You know, you could have just asked. Good manners hasn't entirely forsaken this world."

"You are correct," Chang said, "on both counts."

She could tell that this would be insufficient, though. This was a criticism he intended. No doubt he expected some sort of substantive reply. Not that any reply would be worthwhile. Somethings were such that if they had to be explained, no explanation would do.

"Such pleasantries would have been insincere," she added, "on both sides. Or have you not noticed that no baseline has looked at me tonight save to stare and whisper, else not looked at all? I have no interest in false courtesies and wasted words. After all, I'm a singer. I can't afford to waste my words. Without them I have very little indeed."

Thoughtlessly, she rested one hand on the curve of her shaft, thinking about Olga, and the downward spiral of her lovelife. Then she forced her mind away from that issue. It would come back up again. Life was like that. She doubted that these Novas would be much help on that front, save perhaps by connecting her to others.

In truth though, she knew where she would have to look. Back among the Teragen. Back among those who walked the same path, at whatever pace. She still had some contacts.

Chang wondered how the others remembered her, if at all.

[GDP_ST]

Alex was at kind of a loose end.

All the VIPs had been shown to their special seats. The lobby area was quiet but for the occasional person needing the bathroom, and the regular ushers were capable of handling that. Indeed, his presence was making the baselines distracted. He'd tried to strike up conversations with them, to join in the idle banter they fell into so readily with each other, but despite his best efforts at just being one of the guys they seemed to be nervous. Oh, they liked him well enough, but they stared a little too long at his face while talking, or seemed edgy if he made any sudden movements. It was just like at school. Finally he'd drifted away from them and was leaning against the wall halfway up the stairs, the perennial stray lock of angelic hair falling over his face.

I have so little in common with them. he thought, a trifle mournfully. One of the ushers sneezed and wiped his red nose. I'll never know what it's like to get a cold, or to feel afraid of being hit by a car crossing the street. I'll never worry about food, or shelter, or how I'll balance my budget. Because I'm a nova, because I could walk out of school and get a job anywhere. Because I don't need anything except light. Utopia says humans and novas are all the same under the skin, but we're not. He held up a glowing hand before his eyes, his enhanced vision noting the bright shimmer of millions of tiny suns under the epidermis of one finger. Lifting his gaze, he watched as a male and female usher flirted, smiling a little to himself at their laughter. That might be the only thing I have in common with them. Wanting the company of my own kind.

Pushing away from the wall, Alex headed up to the skybox that hosted the Talent Lounge. The security on the door just waved him through with a smile: Jason's 'kid brother' was on pretty much every list in the place. Inside, novas great and small hung out and watched the show, the conversational buzz caused by Brickhouse's defeat and collapse only lowering a little as Alex entered.

"Hope he's alright... Hey kid! What brings you here?" Rob 'SuperBeast' Steele waved at Alex from where he sat, dormed down, next to Zoo Child, whose worried gaze brightened as it transferred from the screens to the glowing Adonis coming over. Alex smiled back, shaking Rob's hand then Jessica's (which caused the girl to virtually glow red - the fourteen year old had a huge secret crush on the glowing older boy).

"I'm just.. mingling, I guess." Alex shrugged comfortably. "It's quietened down out there now." Rob nodded.

"I hear that. Mind yourself in here, okay? Jason would kick my ass if you got chewed up by some of the barracudas present."

"I can handle myself." Alex said with an inadvertently heartmelting grin. Steele pantomimed peering at him from over some shades.

"Uh-huh. Famous last words, kiddo."

Alex laughed and moved on. Then a familiar glimpse of red hair made him smile. Donald, from the Rashoud Facility! He was an elite now, like Ein, and had been to the Congo. Alex envied him a little - Donald wasn't so much older-looking than him, and no one was trying to tell him how to live. He shook away the frown and smiled instead as he approached Donald and the woman next to him.

"Hey Donald!" he exclaimed cheerfully, shaking the elite's hand. "Jason said you would be here. Can't wait to see your show." A glance of gold-flecked blue eyes revealed several strange and wondrous oddities about the woman - for one thing she was her own chair, and for another she had three breasts and a huge... Ohh! This was WhiteRain.

"You must be Chang Zha-Yang." he said with a broad smile. "I'm 'Ray of Sunshine' from the OpChat a little while ago. I went and listened to your music after talking to you. I like the way you compose - both lyrics and melody are formed together, aren't they? I can tell that much, but I'm just getting started with music myself. It's nice to meet you. Uh... Do you shake hands?" he asked politely, eyes alive with curiousity and interest. "I heard you were a Terat, and that they don't do baseline things like shaking hands."

[WhiteRain]

Chang saw Sunshine coming from a good distance away. His beauty, his light, his general sense of easy charm made him one of those very noticeable Novas. She could feel it, though, radiating from him. Taint.

He carried it easily. Oh, he shone prettily, but he had gone through few clear physical mutations. She supposed much of it had weighed down on his mind, erasing the memory of the life he had lived.

,,

Sunshine walked right up to her. No flinch, no twitch. She appreciated that.

"Hey Donald!" He said, his voice bright and happy as he reached out and shook the Nova's hand. "Jason said you would be here. Can't wait to see your show."

Then she saw it. He had not been paying attention to her at first. Now he looked on her, and there it was. The little double take. But it went no further than that, and rather than the recalcitrance or doubt that most showed, Sunshine's face broke into a wondrous, genuine smile. It was only when she saw it that Chang realized it had been quite some time since somebody had smiled at the sight of her.

She thought, then, that perhaps it made sense that she had begun to turn gloomy of late.

"You must be Chang Zha-Yang." Sunshine said. "I'm 'Ray of Sunshine' from the OpChat a little while ago. I went and listened to your music after talking to you. I like the way you compose - both lyrics and melody are formed together, aren't they? I can tell that much, but I'm just getting started with music myself. It's nice to meet you. Uh... Do you shake hands?" He said, offering his hand vaguely, as if unsure whether he ought to be offering it or not. But his eyes were enthused, energetic.

"I heard you were a Terat, and that they don't do baseline things like shaking hands."

She laughed at that, a resonating, four-voice laugh that she thought might be unique to her. At that moment there came a tightness in her eyes, and she felt the hues change. "One moment, please."

Chang raised her hand and molded the palm until it turned clear as glass. Her eyes had switched so the left was bright violet, the right black as night. "Oh," she said, "I quite like those colours."

Then she offered her hand, stretching her arm a good two feet longer to take and shake Sunshine's. "You were a little misinformed, sir. There's no one thing Terats do or don't do. That's kind of the point. But for future reference, as I grew up in China I am more naturally inclined to bow." So saying, she raised herself up in her chair, and bowed her head to Sunshine. "It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh."

She retracted her arm, and again leaned back. She felt a lot more relaxed already. Sunshine, it appeared, lived up to his name in more ways than one.

[Evo]

Quote:

"You are correct," Chang said, "on both counts."

She could tell that this would be insufficient, though. This was a criticism he intended. No doubt he expected some sort of substantive reply. Not that any reply would be worthwhile. Somethings were such that if they had to be explained, no explanation would do.

"Such pleasantries would have been insincere," she added, "on both sides. Or have you not noticed that no baseline has looked at me tonight save to stare and whisper, else not looked at all? I have no interest in false courtesies and wasted words. After all, I'm a singer. I can't afford to waste my words. Without them I have very little indeed."

Donald opened his mouth for a moment to remonstrate, then paused thoughtfully. "That's true." He admitted uncomfortably, with another brief glance at the baseline man. He could hear the whispers and the buzz of words in the room, all about him. It wasn't like he could selectively filter his perceptions anyway, but that was all it was, a matter of choosing what to listen to or not.

It was far too easy to pick up on those hints of distaste in the baselines present, ameliorated by Chang's presence only somewhat. And to be brutally honest, he reflected, they'd react the same way towards internal pictures of his body. Hell, he'd used four arms on occasions to handle Argus work.

He hadn't went out clubbing or anything like that in... most of the time since eruption.

Quote:

Alex laughed and moved on. Then a familiar glimpse of red hair made him smile. Donald, from the Rashoud Facility! He was an elite now, like Ein, and had been to the Congo. Alex envied him a little - Donald wasn't so much older-looking than him, and no one was trying to tell him how to live. He shook away the frown and smiled instead as he approached Donald and the woman next to him.

"Hey Donald!" he exclaimed cheerfully, shaking the elite's hand. "Jason said you would be here. Can't wait to see your show."

Then he picked up on the glow, and knew who was coming over immediately. The return of Sunshine made him smile. "Glad to see you again Alex," as they shook hands, Donald commented. "It is good to see you again, and the chat was an indicator, things have changed since the Facility."

A lot. The kid, who was admittedly only a little younger than he was, had an infectious light about him, that brightened up the mood. Lucky guy. You don't seem to have a care in the world. Everyone likes you, or so it seems. My life's getting tiring at times, and I've been lone wolf for a while now.

But all of this stayed in Donald's head, as he continued pleasantly, "So what's life like now for you?"

[GDP_ST]

"It's good." Alex said with a friendly smile after returning Chang's short bow with one of his own, then pulling over a chair and sitting opposite both older novas. He was struck by the differences between Evo and White Rain, by how human Evo seemed. Alex knew that the red-headed young man could morph into a variety of fantastic shapes and features, but right now he seemed very 'normal' in comparison with the magnificently exotic Chang. "I'll be graduating this summer, and then we'll be trying to get me emancipated, recognised as a legal adult and so on." There was a slight eagerness there behind Sunshine's words, the unspoken thought that it was about time, already.

"That is important to you?" Chang asked, studying the ultraviolet and infrared shimmer of Sunshine's aura with an artist's fascination. She wondered if there were a way to translate the patterns of energy in constant flux into a static medium such as paint or stone. It would certainly lend itself to music. Sunshine shrugged, his gaze openly studying the unusual Terat without any kind of prejudgement or distaste.

"I guess." he said with typical teenage insouciance, seeming very young for a brief moment, then he frowned a little and nodded, his expression firming. "Yes, I think it is. It means I get to choose how I live without Project Utopia and the Canadian government parenting me. I'm just really grateful to Jason that she took me in like that. Living with her is so much better than living in the Facility, which is where I'd be otherwise - it's probably the only reason I haven't just flown off and dared them to do anything about it: I don't want people to blame Jase."

[WhiteRain]

Chang listened to Donald and Sunshine talking about school. School of all things.

The innocence of the thing was so intense as to be absurd. Yet where else were Novas to learn? Especially one with no memory. Unbidden, Chang's mind turned to thoughts of Bounty, and her nursery. Rumour, mostly. The whereabouts of the place were a mystery to all but the pantheon, but Chang had spoken with Bounty in a few OpNet calls and she had been open about its existence.

One day there would be a Nova race. A real one, not scattered individuals from all over the world but families, Nova children born of Nova parents. They would need to go to school, too.

Sunshine sat down beside them, as easy and relaxed as if sitting down with lifelong friends. Though she supposed that Donald might well fit that description. Sunshine had only lived for a short while.

"I'll be graduating this summer, and then we'll be trying to get me emancipated, recognised as a legal adult and so on." His beautiful eyes flashed when he said that, he seemed more eager than ever.

"That is important to you?" She asked. At the same time she flushed her eyes with quantum, the better to study his quantum glow. Sure enough it bore sunlight hues, blazing across all the spectrums, ultraviolet and infrared mixed with the normal spectrum.

The patterns transported her into the company of her muse, the way Novas often did, especially the fascinating or beautiful. She wondered if there were a way to translate the patterns of energy in constant flux into a static medium such as paint or stone. It would lend itself to music, certainly, but she could do more.

Sunshine gave a shrug, his gaze fixed on Chang without even a shimmer of distaste. And for the first time, she felt like she belonged, and realized how much she had grown to miss her Terat comrades.

"I guess." Sunshine said, seeming very young for a brief moment, then he frowned a little and nodded, his expression firming. "Yes, I think it is. It means I get to choose how I live without Project Utopia and the Canadian government parenting me. I'm just really grateful to Jason that she took me in like that. Living with her is so much better than living in the Facility, which is where I'd be otherwise - it's probably the only reason I haven't just flown off and dared them to do anything about it: I don't want people to blame Jase."

Chang nodded. "She's a virtuous woman, and it reflects well on you to think of that. Independence is important, I feel. Certainly it is to me. Novas - especially ones like yourself, if what I hear of your powers is true - make for most effective tools in the right hands. I've always thought it terribly dangerous for us to allow ourselves to be used like that, though of course some people will always be followers while others will lead."

Sunshine's glow continued to blaze at her, daring, challenging. Sing me, it whispered. Show me.

She began to tap the fingers of one hand against the 'arm' of her chair-self. There was a soft creaking sound, and the chair molded its form into one of soft leather and thick cushions, more obviously designed for comfort. "I wonder, Sunshine, would you be interested in taking part in an artistic endeavour?" Chang turned to look at him, twisting her torso with unnatural, rubbery ease. "I've a mind to render that glow of yours on canvas." She nodded, thinking. "A little aura painting for the new age. And if you're interested in being recognized as your own man, it couldn't hurt to get some publicity that's unrelated to Jason."

[Evo]

Quote:

"I guess." Sunshine said, seeming very young for a brief moment, then he frowned a little and nodded, his expression firming. "Yes, I think it is. It means I get to choose how I live without Project Utopia and the Canadian government parenting me. I'm just really grateful to Jason that she took me in like that. Living with her is so much better than living in the Facility, which is where I'd be otherwise - it's probably the only reason I haven't just flown off and dared them to do anything about it: I don't want people to blame Jase."

"It's hard to blame Jason Bellefleur for anything." Donald commented amused, but he could remember not his drive for independence quite well, and easily saw the teenage factor that was common to all young people, nova or baseline. Little things like these, he recalled, were what led him to discount the Teragen. Some things you couldn't get away from, no matter how much you 'evolved.'

"But really, wanting to make your own life is something true of any teenager, node or not. And not everyone is willing to recognize it at first, but my mother got the picture, and everyone else does eventually. There may be those who cannot live and let live, but screw them."

Quote:

She began to tap the fingers of one hand against the 'arm' of her chair-self. There was a soft creaking sound, and the chair molded its form into one of soft leather and thick cushions, more obviously designed for comfort. "I wonder, Sunshine, would you be interested in taking part in an artistic endeavour?" Chang turned to look at him, twisting her torso with unnatural, rubbery ease. "I've a mind to render that glow of yours on canvas." She nodded, thinking. "A little aura painting for the new age. And if you're interested in being recognized as your own man, it couldn't hurt to get some publicity that's unrelated to Jason."

Donald raised an eyebrow, but his expression showed that he easily agreed with the artistic quality of the light aura. "I'd pay for something like that," he honestly remarked, "but... I really think that glow needs to be turned into music."

Remembering the mode he was in when the two boys met at the Rashoud clinic, Donald pulled his sensory synesthesia into high gear, and reworked his hearing to perceive the music he had noted in the colors and glows about him, focusing intently on Alex's lights.

"Just like I remember it," he remarked with full satisfaction of someone indeed looking like they were at an opera house, "your glow sounds like Mozart, but sweeter. If one could bottle that sense, that music, we'd clean out Alejandra."

[VectorSigma]

Jadzia moved silently among the gathered people, subconsciously avoiding breaking others' line of sight, inwardly amazed by the Novas present. Her features, striking in any other place, were made commonplace here by the bizarre, the magnificent and the attractive.

She didn't like attracting attention overly much, and ever the scientist preferred observation over participation. Even so, she marvelled at the ease at which they interacted and how they acted. Turning her featureless silver eyes left and right, she spotted many of the Novas she read about on OpNet. Indeed, she thought to herself, this is likely one of few occasions where we can truly be ourselves.

Idly she positioned herself at the edge of the social crowd, drinking in the "Nova Life" she was presented with.

[WhiteRain]

"I'd pay for something like that, but... I really think that glow needs to be turned into music."

Donald's comment brought Chang up short. She regarded him without turning her head, wondering what he might be getting at. Her answer came in only a few moments.

"Just like I remember it. Your glow sounds like Mozart, but sweeter. If one could bottle that sense, that music, we'd clean out Alejandra."

Chang could not help but smile. A synaesthetic. She wondered if he had always been that way, or if it were a pure outgrowth of his eruption. "I may not be able to 'bottle' that music, but I can certainly compose it." She studied the patterns of Sunshine's glow, the way the colours moved and shifted. There was pace there, rhythm, the beginnings of song. Though most likely it would best suit an instrumental. Versions and forms played through her head, different instruments and combinations thereof. "Oh yes," she muttered, her eyes still turned towards the screen that showed the ongoing event below. "This is very easy to work with.

"I wonder though, Donald, what on earth makes you think I wouldn't turn it into music? I was proposing something specifically to benefit Sunshine. He would benefit little from me composing music based on his glow. All he'll get is a line note and creditation, with appropriate royalties, and most of the publicity will end up being focused on me. Such is how the industry operates. There's not much in the way of gains for a muse, the focus is always upon the composer, unless the muse is a Nova and the composer a baseline. A portrait, on the other hand? Well, that's quite a different story. Sunshine would be - to coin a phrase - the centerpiece of the whole affair. I've always felt that's one of the best things about painting. The muse is front and center, and the artist almost a background actor, offering the viewer a window onto sights unseen."

She refocused on Sunshine. "Of course, it's up to you if you're interested in any of this. It's your glow, after all, and I'm the absolute last person who will disrespect another Nova's unique glory. I know I can make beautiful somethings with that glow of yours.Worthy somethings."

[GDP_ST]

He'd blinked as Chang had first proposed the painting, a little surprised that he would be a center of attention. Of course, he knew he was good-looking, that his looks had were quantum-enhanced to the point that baselines stared and even novas considered him worthy of a second (and third) glance. And yes, his aura was eye-catching, and to those who could see in other spectrums it was fascinating. But living with Bombshell and Knockout was a daily reminder of what real nova beauty was, which coupled with his never having been human level in looks had made the youthful nova incredibly centered where his beauty was concerned. Most of the time, especially as he never had to try to look his best, he was barely even conscious of his own appearance.

He remained in thought as Donald and Chang discussed the aspects of music versus paint as a medium, then smiled as Chang returned the question to him. It was kind of nice, flattering even, to be singled out by a real artist like this.

"I would really like it if you would do a painting of me and my glow." he said with a smile that actually seemed to raise the ambient temperature, so happily radiant did he look. "And the music would be interesting too. I feel natural light as music - you know, stars and sunlight - but it's more like a faint feeling than properly, like Donald and you do. But a painting, seen through nova senses. That would be something." he finished with another smile.

[Evo]

Originally Posted By: WhiteRain

"I wonder though, Donald, what on earth makes you think I wouldn't turn it into music? I was proposing something specifically to benefit Sunshine. He would benefit little from me composing music based on his glow."

"I meant it solely as a compliment." Donald clarified earnestly, focusing his gaze on Chang... and her 'gaps' as presented in his vision. Oh screw it, he did really have an excuse to ignore those? Even if she didn't know. Without a hint of the shift, he let himself see the impossible shaft and the third breast.

Leaning back comfortably in the chair, he then shared his attention equally with the two other novas. "Well, you like the idea Alex, and that's all that matters."

[WhiteRain]

The reply came swiftly.

"I would really like it if you would do a painting of me and my glow." Smiles were often described as 'glowing', but in this case it was true. His colours flared a little with his emotion, blazing infrared a moment before levelling out into the usual hypnotic pattern. "And the music would be interesting too. I feel natural light as music - you know, stars and sunlight - but it's more like a faint feeling than properly, like Donald and you do. But a painting, seen through nova senses. That would be something."

Sunshine smiled again, and Chang could not help but return the expression. It felt so sincere. Refreshing. She had not realized how cynical she had become. For all she missed her Teragen friends, she had met nobody like this among them. Too often the Teragen had taken in the broken, the damaged, those seeking a good excuse to exorcise their demons on the world.

This boy had no demons. Not yet. She hoped to know him when he felt his first tragedy, to see how he evolved. Children always grew up, after all, and no adult could avoid making mistakes, or evade regrets.

Donald broke in then. "I meant it solely as a compliment." He leaned back in his chair, gaze shifting between her and Sunshine. "Well, you like the idea Alex, and that's all that matters."

In that much they concurred. Chang realized that she had become thorny, that he had irked her. His words had not been all that offensive, really. For a moment she considered her reaction. The analysis came back in moments.

It had been the comment about the baseline. Fairly or not, he had attached himself to them in her mind, and all the attendant negativity. That and his opening comment about the others not caring about the baselines who would benefit from the fund. She did not blame him for that, but rather recognized that it separated the two of them. For who here cared less about the Crush victims than Chang?

There had been no such separation with Sunshine. He had greeted her warmly, and was beauteous besides. He reminded her of happy times, and had stirred the muse. Donald had wasted some words, and offered nothing.

Nonetheless, she had been rude. "My apologies," she said to him. "I believe I may have offended you. Before coming to Vancouver I spent four months alone in the ruins of old Grecian temples and such, looking for inspiration. It was not as productive as I hoped, and I fear that the solitude has done little for my grip on the social arts."

Then she saw the words flash up on the screen, and heard the announcement.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we move on from the XWF action to something a little bit different. But before we get to that, please give a round of applause for our giving XWF stars who have tried their best to show you each other's hearts tonight!"

The arena erupted. This was her cue, she knew.

"It seems I must be going." She flashed her arm out, stretching it like a coiling snake, and again snatched a pen from a passing baseline. She clicked it out as she retracted her arm and turned over one of the pieces of note paper from earlier. With a split-second blur, Chang wrote her phone number and private OpNet address out on the back and ripped the piece off. It was taken from her least favourite of the 'Belonging' drafts, and she did not mind losing a few of the words and notation on the front.

"Should we not run into one another again tonight, please contact me with these details," Chang said, offering the paper to Sunshine with one hand, while elongating her other arm to give the baseline his pen back.

She rose up, her body creaking and groaning as leather molded back into soft and perfect flesh before her hair wound tight over it and turned into clothes.

"Thanks!" Sunshine said brightly, scanning the paper, then turning it over and reading the little fragments of music on the other side. "Oh, don't you need this?"

"No," Chang said, walking towards the back of the room. "It's just a draft. And not even a good one. Farewell, to both of you, and enjoy the evening."

She felt a slight stirring in her belly. It had been a long, long time since she faced a stadium full of baselines. You could use whatever epithet you liked to describe them, but that was still a lot of people. In a way, though, she looked forward to it.

If it made her nervous, it needed to be faced, all the better to help her grow.

[GDP_ST]

"Good luck out there." Alex told Chang cheerfully, then he pocketed the slip of paper after glancing once more at the notation, humming the fragments he could discern under his breath for a moment, then smiling slightly to himself before glancing at the exotically different nova as she moved away.

"She was nice." he voiced aloud to Donald. "Different to other novas I've met, but nice. They told me at the Facility that Terats are dangerous extremists - she didn't seem like it. She wasn't blowing things up or sneering at baselines." He pondered for a lightning-fast split second. "She was dignified." he stated with uncanny insight for one so young. "Like she knew who she was and didn't care much what other people thought she should be."

"You like her?" Donald asked with a small grin. Sunshine smiled and shook his head.

"Not in that way, but I like her. I think she'd be interesting to talk more with - I don't get to converse much..." he paused for a microsecond, about to say "...with other nova-smart people." but held his tongue. It would be unkind and kind of a douchebag thing to say. Jael and Jason were his dearest friends, and they were plenty smart enough to talk with without needing quantum-boosted brains. "...with Terats." he finished instead with barely a break in his speech.

[z017]

"Contrary to popular belief," an inhumanly beautiful voice sounded from behind the pair, "we don't all eat babies or have some grand plan for world destruction."

The voice belonged to a woman that was more beautiful than any baseline could ever hope to be, but hardly more than pretty for novas so inclined that way. Her hair was an ember-red and swept up in an elaborate coif; she had the deep green eyes and pale skin to mark an island's heritage and just enough lilt to her speech to suggest she'd spent some time there. She'd dressed for the event expensively and immaculately: a forest green Celtic-style dress, golden torques of snakes with ruby eyes around her neck and one arm; golden earrings dangled ruby drops over her shoulders, and pins of the same design held her hair in place.

"Some of us, many of us, simply wish to live as what we are: novas, children the One Race. My name is Shae," she smiled and stepped up to them, offering her hand, "might I know yours?"

Click to reveal..

The colored speech text is just to represent that she has The Voice enhancement.

[GDP_ST]

"Alex." the radiant solar youth said, taking Shae's hand gently in his warm grasp. "But most people call me Sunshine. It's nice to meet you."

He studied Shae openly and frankly as Donald introduced himself. She seemed nice too, beautiful and elegant. Her skin was pale as moonlight with just a hint of blush, and she had an air of otherworldly self-possession that a baseline duchess would have killed to own a fraction of.

"So... when you said that not all Terats eat babies. Does that mean some do?" he asked with charming directness.

[z017]

She shrugged elegantly. "I've yet to see one do so." She watched 'Sunshine' from coyly downcast eyes, a bemused smile on her lips, "It does you credit to listen to words so carefully. Most would have made assumptions that those words did not say."

She enjoyed the touch of his hand, the warmth that radiated from him. Sunshine, indeed. I wonder what Tomas would make of him. They seem opposites, but then seeming and being are so often such disparate things. Perhaps I'll keep him to myself for a little longer.

"I must admit, I've spent the past year or so with my family learning....many things, but I have not spent the time perhaps I should have getting to know the novas of the world. That is part of why I am here tonight, that and my husband has come to donate to the charity. You said you have not had much chance to speak with Terats, and I have not had much chance to speak with those that are not Terats. Do you have questions you would ask me? I warn you, though, they will be my answers, not the answers of every Terat. The core of our beliefs, of Teras, is that we must each find our own ways as children of the One Race."

She gave him an impish grin, "But I would ask another question first. Do you prefer Alex or Sunshine?"

[Magnum Opus]

"Okay, think we're ready. Smile."

Knockout posed with her girlfriend, smiling at the camera and hoisting the foamy flagons high. They took half a dozen photographs before stopping. Satisfied, Danielle returned the eufiber to her standard red and black unitard, and then checked the computer.

She snorted. She restarted the camera. "Ozzy812 asks, 'is it true that they float?' Yes.

"'Do bugs hit your face when you fly?' That's from SharonQueen. Sharon, sometimes, but I can see them coming pretty effectively and move out of the way.

"And what's this... erm." Danielle blushed. "Ah, EthanRez wants me to do pushups with you sitting crosslegged on my back."

Danielle exchanged a look with Jason. "I don't even... well, it's for charity."

[WhiteRain]

Chang moved through the backstage halls and corridors of the stadium, heading down to the long walkway that led out onto the main stage. Makeup people approached, saw, and went away.

Chang's clothes melted into hair for a moment, leaving her a naked woman, her modesty protected only by a weave of jet black, before her hair knitted once again, blending into pure white silk, a chong sam modified for her double cleavage and massive endowment. The stitching was lined with gold thread, the sleeves just short enough to show her black spiderweb tattoo on her left shoulder and the curling green serpent wrapping her right arm from wrist to bicep.

A baseline approached, a man with a confident stride and the look of someone at his wit's end. "I hope you've got no disasters planned for us, Miss Yang." He managed to not look away from her, or double take. Rather he looked a little to the side and down, focusing on something on the ground near her feet. She thought it a rather novel approach.

"Auctions have a certain precedent for peacefulness. I see no need to buck the trend tonight."

He nodded. "Your statue's over there. How do you want us to do this?"

"Wheel it out first, covered with the cloth I provided. I'll come out and do the rest."

"No fireworks? No music?" He seemed quite surprised by that.

Chang smiled faintly. "I'm not ostentatious, sir. Nor do I see any particular reason to announce my presence with any fanfare. A simple announcement over the intercom will do, I should think."

"All right."

He hurried off, barking commands.

Chang listened, standing still, gathering her nerves. She could hear them, feel them gathered beyond. Their movements and rustles set the floor to hammering, and her new senses could pick through that brutal percussion. Thousands of them here live, and perhaps millions watching at home.

Quite suddenly, she realized that this would be her first public appearance since she had left for Greece six months ago. This bust would be the first of her works sold. And at a charity event of all things! She wondered if this apparent act of kindness would haunt her for the rest of her life. Nobody - nobody - had come close to realizing why she had donated so much money.

And now she was here, reinforcing that lie.

"How absurd," she muttered.

Then she heard the announcement, as clearly as if she were out there listening to it.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next guest, the avant-garde and elusive artist and famous Novox singer, White Rain!"

They could have responded with silence. But the noise that greeted Chang when she emerged from the entrance curtain was a burst of cheers and clapping that rang like thunder.

She paused just beyond the curtain, looking straight ahead but studying the crowd, watching them through her skin and hair and fingers and everything else. She listened and felt them and smelled them, in all their grotesque glory. A shapeless morass of noise and movement. She could pick out a man eating some kind of snack in the front row, hear people talking about her. Some muttered, some enthused.

A decent crowd.

The bust awaited her up ahead, along with the announcer in his tuxedo and the microphone. He was looking at her with an awkward expression. He wondered why she had stopped, too. She ignored him.

Before taking another step, she turned her head up toward the skyboxes, where her own kind were seated and watching. She bowed to them, and then made her way onto the stage.

Mid-stride, Chang stretched her arm the remaining ten feet to take the microphone from the shocked announcer, and walked her way up to it. The bust had been covered with a sheet of crushed velvet, so red it could have been dyed with blood. She grimaced. The stage lights were a little too bright. They washed out the colour. That would not do.

She stretched her hand into a fleshy globe around the microphone, cutting off noise. The announcer's eyes bugged.

"Look up, human," Chang said. "The lights are too bright. I hadn't noticed seeing it through the cameras. Get out there and have them turned down." She stretched her torso vertically, pushing almost to her full extension. The rig was still far above her, and too far away to discern the details. She tightened her eyes, not unlike clenching a muscle few other people had, and her vision zoomed in as though she looked through a microscope. She quickly picked out the make and serial number of the rig, and then contracted back down.

The announcer looked about ready to run. He had backed away some distance.

"Human! Come back, now." She knew the rig. In the past she had worked with one when doing some stage design for a Novox band. As such, she knew exactly what the lighting team needed to do. "Radio the following instructions to the lighting crew. I need the intensity reduced by three hundred and seventy three lux, and for them to pitch cameras three and four up by three degrees. Cameras five and eight I need turning away from the stage by two degrees. Understood?"

He nodded. She shooed him away.

With a wet schlucking sound that rang out through the arena, Chang flowed her fleshy globe back into a hand. She raised the microphone to her lips and said, with her beauteous and bizarre four-strand voice, "My apologies, honoured guests. A minor technical problem has arisen."

She covered the microphone again.

The baseline from before came running out onto the stage. He strode up to her, his expression flat and serious. "Miss Yang, we can't stop the show for you. Get on with-"

"Fix the lighting." She said, all four voices blending together into a single note, as sharp and harmonious as a glass sword, cutting right into his forebrain and forcing obedience.

He wanted to resist. He really did. But they rarely could when she did that, and he was not so exceptional in the end. He raised his radio to his lips and started talking. The compulsion only lasted a moment or two, but now that he had started, he could hardly stop.

A few moments later, Chang felt and saw the lighting shift to her desired specification. The velvet cover took on its blood red seeming again, and she nodded in satisfaction. If the lighting had been left as it was, it would have detracted from the sculpture's beauty. That she would not have. She shooed the baseline, and again raised the microphone to her lips.

"Apologies for the delay. The mistake was mine. Now, without further ado, let us proceed. Since coming to Vancouver, I have observed that our noble hosts Bombshell and Knockout are rather popular with the public. Accordingly, I have put my talents to work to attempt to render Bombshell in stone."

With that, Chang whipped the cover off the bust, and stepped aside to let the cameras get a good, long look.

The bust had come out well. She had been riding high after Jason's visit, and with her image buried deep inside her brain Chang's muse had blazed as if in a fever dream until she had exorcized her feelings in the stone. High emotion always led to better results for Chang.

It had been rendered mostly in alabaster and marble, with some small use of metals to provide some slight contrasts and false shadows, adding the impression of realism. A light sprinkling of quartz dust had given the white stone a lifelike, pinkish luster, while silver shavings had helped to emphasize the artistic fan of hair that spread out behind and around the bust's head like a skewed halo. Chang had depicted her with a seductive, naughty smile on her lip, and captured a true, penetrating come-get-me expression in the violet eyes, whose colour had come from ground amethysts carefully pressed into the stone. The crowning glory was the shine in those eyes. It was a mummer's trick, in truth, a pair of tiny glow rods positioned in the stone irises that let out a soft illumination which caught and glimmered on the amethyst dust. The effect had come out remarkable, in fact the eyes were the single most lifelike feature.

In truth, Chang was so proud of it that she would regret auctioning it off. But it had served its purpose, and she had no further need to keep it around.

Silence fell on the arena. Or so it seemed, at least. Not to her.

The effect was so profound that after a few moments she could hear the staff muttering about whether or not this segment was going to tank.

She knew better. She could hear that this was a good quiet. She could hear some people weeping softly, otherwise whispering words of awe. More than one person had found some way to jerk off quietly, in shame. Other, more focused fellows, called for attachés and asked for phone calls to be made.

It was time for bidding.

Chang raised the microphone to her lips again. "Now that you have had your moment to gaze longingly at this futile attempt to capture Bombshell's glory in stone, we get to the part where you consider whether or not you would like to own it. For the collectors among you, a brief blurb. For those who are not... bear with us.

"This bust combines a mixture of soft and hardstone carving, with some minor elements of metalwork and gem engraving in the eyes and to provide luster to the skin. For the, uh, bust of the bust," Chang smiled, then, and realized she had begun to enjoy herself somewhere along the line, "I employed a mixture of percussion tools to get the basic shape and used several carborundum blocks and traditional water abasion techniques to get the stone as smooth and curvaceous as the real thing. Or so I'm reliably informed, anyway. This bust is, of course, one of a kind, and marks the most significant produce of my recent foray into the art of ancient Greece. I will now hand the microphone over to the gentleman waiting in the wings for bidding to begin."

She handed the microphone over without a fight, and moved to stand behind and beside the bust, on the great carpet covering the stage.

The baseline gave out the details, thanked her for the introduction, wrung some more cheers out of the audience. And then the bids began, flashing up on the big screen.

"And we are starting at the meager sum of $500,000 US," he proclaimed. "We've got some miser out there thinking he'll take this home for so little! Come on, we all know there's rich men who love them some Bombshell. Are you going to let him get away with that? Oh! There we go!"

The screen flashed up a new figure. $550,000. It would climb. It always climbed.

Chang sighed, and waited. She felt a little bored with the process, now. The art had come and gone, the brief touch between her and the world had ended. Now there was just money, grubby little fingers pawing at her creation. It made her want to eat it then and there.

That made her smile. She wondered how people would respond if she did that. But she did not. She had promised Jason that she would offer her assistance. Chang would always be a woman of her word.

So she lengthened her arms, stretching them out ten feet, and spiralled them together, forming a complex pattern around her body that ended with them clasped behind her back.

The screen had flashed up to $700,000 US already. She tried to relax. Something told her she would be standing her for some time.

[Sunstar]

Originally Posted By: Iron Rose

She chuckled. "Do you know anything about who's fighting and such for this event?"

"Hang on Ria. I've been trying to figure out just that for most the event. Well that and I am donating money right now. And done. Looks like Knockout's going to be dressing as Marisa from Touhou for me. Needed to give her something cute rather that be someone's eye candy. Plus it will amuse me to no end." The anthro red panda said smiling

Click to reveal..

Activating Cyberkinesis to mentally access the Opnet for the night so she can message people through while here. Also gaining access to the list of participants if possible.

[Evo]

"Oh, I prefer Sunshine. I only agreed to Alex because it sounded okay and people at Utopia really wanted me to have a normal name." Sunshine explained with nary a hint of concern that he felt about the limitations the Facility staff had been trying to put to him. He glanced curiously to Donald, remembering a name he'd heard Donald be referred as in the process of finding out his elite status. "Sometimes people call you Evo. Which do you prefer?"

"Either is fine," Donald responded simply, "I don't prefer one over the other." Shae noted that unlike many of the few novas she'd seen, Donald had no quantum enhanced personality, appearance, or a truly distinct feature. He did seem, to an observer who hadn't seen his shifting or other abilities in action, rather ordinary.

"Though as for my two bits on the claims of Utopia and the actuality..." Donald prepared to civilly ford into the dangerous waters here, with a calm look at the shining young nova and the more fey female Shae, "there is as you say Shae, a generalization propagated which can be considered by some insulting and inaccurate. Utopia is in an ideological war. And war, one tends to demonize the enemy."

His eyes told that he was speaking from experience. "On the other hand, the mass opinion of the Teragen is not free from this tendency either. As an elite, I find the suggestion that I prostituted myself quite insulting. After all, we made the choice to do so. The core of Teras is that novas must find their own way? I'd say I have, just not the way you'd expect."

Donald shrugged nonchalantly, voice not wavering or showing any direct signs of anger, just making his point. "The difference is in one's interpretation."

[Tomas Saint-Etienne]

"We should bid on it." The soft-voiced young man stated, his companions glancing at him curiously. They were not surprised, as such. Each of them had entertained the thought, but they were curious to see if their estimation of their husband, the quiet and fae youth clad in shades of black that seemed to absorb the light in their private box, was correct.

"They" he continued, a pale finger pointing at the screen echoing the faint scornful accusation in the hypnotic voice "Do not deserve it." Eyes like iridescent emeralds, bottomless wells that conjured nightmare and fantasy simply to look into, looked back at the other two. "It is an artwork of arguably one of the most beautiful nova icons of the age, by arguably one of the best nova artists of the age. Whatever I personally think of Bombshell - a simpering, pandering baseline with a node is the kindest I can be there - that sculpture is too good to be purchased by monkeys."

He fell silent then, pulling out a slim OpPhone and entering a bid.

"There. Let us see how badly they want her."

* * * * *

"We have a mystery bidder, ladies and gentlemen." the MC called out as the huge screen reflected a sudden jump in the bid from $850,000 to $5,000,000. Gasps and applause ran around the crowded arena as people speculated on who it might be that had raised the ante so suddenly and drastically.

[Bombshell]

Jason snorted delicately as she shifted her eufiber back into glamorous evening wear, pumps and stockings and all, and restyled her hair into an elegant fall of silver waves. All in all, she would have preferred wearing the tux, beer-stains and all, but a deal was a deal, and it was for charity. And it could have been worst.

"Trust me, babe, don't try to think 'bout it. But you remember Conrad proposing filmin' bullets bouncin' off our..." Running her hands through her hair, Jason arched her back, flinging out her chest. "Well... right, I've gotten some other... proposals. I'll admit, some I'd like to try, just for our own amusment, like... later. Seems like real-life mega-strong, mega-tough superbabes like us fulfill a fetish now made possible, if highly improbable, with the Nova age."

Done with her primping - though she'd punch anyone actually calling that - Jason glanced at the request again then eyed Danielle up and down and gave her a smirk. "At least EthanRez is not going too far with his request. And its for charity, of course. Down on your hands and toes, Dani, I have time for this before I have to head back down again."

With a red-cheeked sigh, Danielle set up the camera for the proper angles, then got into position after Jase gave her a teasing smack on the ass. With exaggerated, simperingly effeminate grace, Jason sat on her back and crossed her legs - showing off a long length of leg - and waggled her fingers at the camera. Her other hand squeezed Danielle's ass again to get her started.

With effortless ease, arms fully extended to her boobs pressing against the floor, Danielle performed a variety of push-ups, her girlfriend's weight not an impediment in the slightest.

"There ya go, EthanRez, a Bombshell riding a Knockout. Hope it was as good for you as it was for us. But now, I have to be getting back to the show." She waved at the camera, curled around to give Dani a kiss on the side of the face, then stood up with brisk grace.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, Dani," Jason promised her girlfriend, then headed back down to the Talent Lounge to wait for her next exhibition.

And she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the bust being displayed on the large, OLED screens. She had missed the unveiling, but that hardly lessened the impact. She wasn't unaffected by the sight of her own appearance - she'd grown accustomed to that, narcissistic though it may be - and Chang had captured her every flawless curve and angle. Her nipples hardened almost painfully at the sight of the naughty come-hither grin on her sculpted face.

Okay, maybe agreein' to this was a bad idea, cause that is more than art. It's dangerously close to a sexual aid. Maybe I should bid on it myself...

Dazed, she reached for an OpPhone she didn't have on her, eyes locked on the screen, not even noticing Alex in the Talent Lounge despite his tell-tale glow, nor the eyes turning her way, drawn by the irresistible gravity of her ineffable beauty and magnetic presence...

Then she saw the bid counter suddenly jump from $850,000 to $5,000,000.

Throughout the entirety of Rogers Arena, Bombshell's distinctive, silvery, sultry soprano rang out in simpering shock. "Holy crap!"

[WhiteRain]

OOC: Post for Katya included here, as per Bombshell's request.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The money kept flowing in, and the MC kept talking. More and more Chang felt like she presided over a sideshow at a carnival. She knew what had bothered her this time, too. The man complaining about her fixing the lighting.

His ignorance rankled. But of course, he would not care so long as the money came in. She should have let them blaze, and wash it all out and ruin the whole thing.

Chang let out a heartfelt sigh. She would not ever do that, of course. Her clamber towards self-transformation required effort more than anything else, and her art factored into it even more than most parts. She had to put in a lot of effort. Perfection did not just happen. It had to be fought for, and clawed after.

"We have a mystery bidder, ladies and gentlemen."

The MC's voice did not stir her. But the wave of gasps out of the assembled thousands did. Chang saw the numbers begin to shift on the huge screen, spiralling upward at huge speed until they settled on a new number.

$5,000,000.

A great round of applause ran around the crowded arena as people speculated on who it might be that had raised the ante so suddenly and drastically. Then a moment later, Bombshell's distinctive, silvery, sultry soprano rang out with the cry of. "Holy crap!"

The lack of dignity brought a smile to Chang's face. Well, she supposed nobody could say she had not done her civic duty now. Her bust had just doubled her own massive donation to the fund.

That realization made her mood plunge into blackness. No chance. She would never, ever live this down. She had now drummed up over $11,000,000 for the fund between the bust and her own money.

"I need to see about a new way to move my money," she said.

She remained there on the stage, and no doubt remained the only person in the entire arena whose mood became blacker when the next round of bidding began, and the number on the screen began to rise.

***

Up above the crowd, in a skybox all to himself, Radu 'The Impaler' Szladovich observed the proceedings with a curious eye. He maintained his accustomed quiet dignity, dressed in a dark green suit with a bright red tie, fingering his beard in a thoughtful fashion. His raven hair had been tied into a ponytail that reached all the way down to his waist.

Katya sat nearby him, smiling mischievously, dressed in a ravishing black evening dress.

He had come to the Charity event mostly to keep Devries' profile high, or at least that was how he had presented it. In reality, his reluctance had been a show, Anna's apparent need to cajole him playfully into cooperation a convenient front. Certain maneuvers were playing out on the other side of the world, some assets were being moved to new places. Things that he wanted to distract from.

The situation in the Congo was about to cross the tipping point and break out into violence. He had estimated a month at most before one of the various elements pushed the pace beyond the stable threshold that had developed in the region. He had big plans to take advantage of that. The global chaos would attract all eyes, and give him ample room to advance his own agenda without Anna's oversight. The agency, after all, stood to make an enormous amount of money once things unbalanced.

In all, he felt satisfied with the state of affairs.

When the bust was unveiled, Radu's quietude broke just a little. He leaned forward in his chair, as if doing so might help him study it more. Katya 'oooo'ed at his side, and made a comment about how the bust of the bust had brought out the best in Jason.

"Indeed," Radu murmured, his english flavoured with the accent of his native Russian. "It is a remarkable achievement. Your comrade has motivated her fellows to true acts of greatness." As he would, before long.

After a while, he leaned backward again, reinforcing his image. The bust stirred his heart and his passion, but he declined to show that. Perhaps...

Then the MC announced the mystery bid.

Radu raised his eyebrow. Katya let out a low whistle.

"That's some busting right there," she said, eager. "So are you going to bid?"

He turned to her. "Why would I do such a thing?" He said, though of course he had been thinking that very thing. "It would be unfair to put my fortunes in such an arena. I would be robbing someone of the pleasure of Bombshell's presence, stone though it be. I can meet the real thing, after all, at the mere cost of an XWF backstage ticket."

"Oh, come on," Katya said, "it'll be fun! You're a superstar mega-elite, after all. And besides, isn't that a challenge? Someone's thrown down the gauntlet. You can't let that stand, can you? Some fellow's poking you in the chest and saying 'you can't beat me'." Her eyes glimmered. "Or can he?"

Radu considered. It could not hurt to allow her to believe he could be so easily stirred to action. She would talk, no doubt. The perpetuation of such a story could one day play to his advantage, creating the image of a man of fragile pride that did not exist. A strawman that Radu 'The Impaler' Szlanovich could sit calmly behind, that would hide his true qualities.

"Very well, my lady," he said, and took out his mobile phone. "May the tears of my foes weigh heavy on your conscience. You have pricked the pear of my pride, and now the juice must flow."

"Is it money juice?" Katya said, with a giggle.

"Oh yes," Radu said. "You may have heard a rumour or two about the profitability of my lifestyle."

"One or two, yes."

"I promise you, little Kat, that the truth quite outdoes them." The phone rang, then clicked as the bid master picked up. "Hello. This is Radu Szlanovich, in skybox seven. I would like to bid on the item."

"Excellent sir! I presume-"

"Eight million." He said, and hung up.

He burned a drop of quantum so as to see Katya clearly, rather than as a blur in his periphery. He saw the look in her eye, the fascination. Most likely his bid had worked. He did not intend to win the bust. That said, it would make an enticing offer to some of his more hesitant options in eastern europe. Sometimes money alone did not appropriately grease the gears.

Radu watched the new sum flash up on the screen, and began to mentally flip through his contacts, wondering what the most efficient use of this expenditure would be. If it could further his gains in the motherland... well, then it would be his.

***

"Ladies and gentlemen we have another bid! This one comes from our honoured guest Radu 'The Impaler' Szladovich! Please give a big hand as we show you how much he has put down for this glorious bust."

The numbers flashed up to $8,000,000.

Chang felt a little surprised. She had put in some time on the bust, of course, but not so much that she would have thought this sum justified. And it seemed that, somehow, this number had broken the tide.

The bids came on in flurries.

First they breached the eight million mark. A minute later they had cut through nine million. It slowed, then. A mixture of anonymous bidders, big businesses, philanthropic billionaires, and one or two pokes by Radu.

The arena went crazy when they shattered the ten million mark by jumping right by it to eleven million five hundred thousand.

Things were quiet then for five long minutes where the MC kept the drama going, mentioning how people were calling up but not daring to complete the call.

And it happened. One more bid. Anonymous.

$12,000,000 flashed up on the screen.

And stayed there for ten straight minutes.

"Ladies and gentlemen we have a winner! Whoever you are, wherever you are, you have parted with twelve million US dollars and you will take this glorious bust home. From the bottom of my heart and the hearts of everyone here tonight, thank you."

Chang nodded. Well, she may have disliked most of the song and dance, but it did feel nice to have her work appreciated.

[Edward Mansfield]

Originally Posted By: Skein

"We should bid on it." The soft-voiced young man stated, his companions glancing at him curiously. They were not surprised, as such. Each of them had entertained the thought, but they were curious to see if their estimation of their husband, the quiet and fae youth clad in shades of black that seemed to absorb the light in their private box, was correct.

"They" he continued, a pale finger pointing at the screen echoing the faint scornful accusation in the hypnotic voice "Do not deserve it." Eyes like iridescent emeralds, bottomless wells that conjured nightmare and fantasy simply to look into, looked back at the other two. "It is an artwork of arguably one of the most beautiful nova icons of the age, by arguably one of the best nova artists of the age. Whatever I personally think of Bombshell - a simpering, pandering baseline with a node is the kindest I can be there - that sculpture is too good to be purchased by monkeys."

He fell silent then, pulling out a slim OpPhone and entering a bid.

"There. Let us see how badly they want her."

* * * * *

"We have a mystery bidder, ladies and gentlemen." the MC called out as the huge screen reflected a sudden jump in the bid from $850,000 to $5,000,000. Gasps and applause ran around the crowded arena as people speculated on who it might be that had raised the ante so suddenly and drastically.

Originally Posted By: Whiterain

"Ladies and gentlemen we have another bid! This one comes from our honoured guest Radu 'The Impaler' Szladovich! Please give a big hand as we show you how much he has put down for this glorious bust."

The numbers flashed up to $8,000,000.

Chang felt a little surprised. She had put in some time on the bust, of course, but not so much that she would have thought this sum justified. And it seemed that, somehow, this number had broken the tide.

The bids came on in flurries.

First they breached the eight million mark. A minute later they had cut through nine million. It slowed, then. A mixture of anonymous bidders, big businesses, philanthropic billionaires, and one or two pokes by Radu.

The arena went crazy when they shattered the ten million mark by jumping right by it to eleven million five hundred thousand.

Things were quiet then for five long minutes where the MC kept the drama going, mentioning how people were calling up but not daring to complete the call.

And it happened. One more bid. Anonymous.

$12,000,000 flashed up on the screen.

Tomas's elegant thumb flickered towards the "Send" button of his slender OpPhone again in a move to redial the number. After all, money was nothing, not compared to the injustice of allowing one of these pathetic primates to own such an exquisite item. But before he could make the call, he felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder, and smooth, graceful fingers move over his. Edward gently clicked the phone closed, showing little in the way of chagrin at the annoyed expression Tomas shot him.

"You heard what I said, I'm not going to just let them -"

"Yes, my dark princeling, I heard you very clearly. And I agree whole-heartedly. But as much as I admire your desire to keep such a stunning example of Nova skill and creativity out of the hands of baseline scum, I want to ask you a couple questions. We have a few minutes before the auction will be called, will you spare them for me?"

Despite Tomas' irritation at the thought of risking the auction, Edward had piqued his curiosity. So he nodded slightly, a dangerous glitter still present in his emerald gaze. Edward might be husband and lover, but he would still vent his fury if the other Terat were wasting his time. Of course deep down, he knew that Edward despised nothing more than wasted time, and therefore wouldn't have bothered to speak up unless he had something to say that his young husband would find worth hearing. It was enough to mollify his annoyance, at least temporarily.

"Fine - ask away."

"Thank you. First I want to remind you that this is a charity event. All proceeds from this event will be donated to aid and assist those who survived the attack and were devastated by it's results. That group, dark of my life, is composed mainly of the baselines you so detest. And while you know I don't typically advocate large-scale destruction or pointless cruelty of baselines, given the possible repercussions to future endeavors, I must admit that I am surprised you wish to donate to them so generously. There is, after all, something to be said for natural selection, is there not?"

Tomas, of course, knew that the key word there was pointless - if there was a point to the cruelty, Edward had absolutely no problem with it whatsoever. The older Terat was quiet for a brief moment, long enough to let the implication settle in that Tomas was about to throw more than $12 million dollars towards baseline charity. He let go of his husband's shoulder, and then Saori was there, holding the flute of champagne out to him that he had calmly handed to her before making his way over to their dark-eyed fae lover in the first place. He took it from her, sipping casually before he continued.

"The first question I want to ask you is the most important. Do you truly love this piece of art enough to desire ownership of it, or are we merely bidding for the sake of denying some monkey the pleasure of it's beauty and importance?"

"I told you, they don't deserve it. Bombshell is an exquisite example of Nova beauty, and the creator is not only an exceptional Nova artist, but a fellow Terat -"

"Yes, I know. But we lack knowledge of the other bidder. It is possible, Tomas, that there is some worthy Nova, perhaps even a fellow Terat, bidding on this piece as we speak. Perhaps my old friend Count Orziaz has taken a liking to Bombshell's stunning beauty, and prefers to possess a marble and jewel-encrusted visage of her rather than attempt to put up with her pathetic and annoying baseline pandering. Or perhaps the lovely Mona, the lead designer for the Blackburn, has decided to acquire it for our enjoyment, and those other Terats who frequent the hotel. The variance in material and color would fit in rather nicely with the Art Deco atmosphere of the building, don't you think?"

His hand slipped from Tomas' shoulder, and slid down and around the other nova's waist. Edward smiled at him then, a subtly amused smirk at the corner of his lips that bespoke of his self-assurance. It made quite a picture - the elegant and fae-like beauty of the dark-souled demon prince next to the civilized and polished veneer of the duplicitous time-shifter. Edward was younger now, having adapted for this particular venture on a whim, and the others knew he was toying the the idea of remaining younger for a time, and finally revealing his temporal abilities to those beyond the Teragen. Or perhaps he was going to let them assume that he had developed shifter-like abilities instead, and had chosen to take the form of a younger man out of vanity. He was, for the moment, undecided, and would remain coyly mute on the subject were he to be asked about it. But nonetheless, it made an exceptionally attractive image for Saori, and she found herself briefly wishing Shae hadn't left to go play with the other Novas yet. Their youngest lover always enjoyed watching Edward wrap the others around his little finger with his cleverness, or even having him do so to xer - it was one of xer's favorite qualities in the elder of their two husbands, and something xe was trying to learn to emulate with similar skill.

"What I propose is this. Let the bidding cap. We will find out who the winning bidder is, and then make our decision. If it is someone worthy of it's possession, and you have no personal fondness for the piece, then we shall let them keep it. But if it is some worthless primate or pandering Utopian, then we shall take it from him. Not only will he be denied it's possession, but he will suffer the consequences of stepping beyond his place, to the tune of $12 million dollars. And then we shall do with it what you will, whether that is keeping it for our own pleasure, or gifting it to some other nova or establishment of consequence. What do you say?"

[VectorSigma]

When the image of the bust had first been revealed, Jadzia almost dropped her drink as she got sucked into the unreal reality of the object. Like one of those pagan statues discovered in misty jungles by early explorers, she couldn't tear her eyes from the screen even if she wanted to.

"That's...one hell of a statue." she mumbled to herself, further words denied by the sheer beauty of the piece. Her Nova self jittered at the sheer impossibility of the creation's existence, while the architect in her clamored with inspiration, impossible buildings forming in her mind, capable of holding this piece and displaying it to its full power.

Blind to the number tallying up beside the piece, she found tears of pure joy, envy and greed streaming down her cheeks. Embarassed by her sudden extrovertion of her emotions, she stumbled away from the gathered people and landed herself on one of the empty seats.

Still enraptured by the image of the bust, she would have dearly hoped that no one was affronted by her sudden outburst, but found her mind devoid of all such thoughts of others. For the first time, some of the realization dawned on her what being a Nova could entail...

------------

She had been tranced in the visage of the bust for some time, and with the characteristic focus she displayed at anything that perplexed her senses. So much, in fact, that Jadzia had not even noticed that the real deal had come in.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, that dark place where she went to solve math problems or relive particularly intrigueing dreams, a sound rang out. A sound like a silver bell. "Holy Crap!"

Jadzia turned her head half-way, eyes first solidly eyeing the bust and then fixating on Bombshell. For one, terrible second, Bust and Bombshell merged into a single magnificent image. She sat paralyzed, senses overloaded with the full charm of so many overly attractive Novas. Adding Bombshell to the mix was the last Amazonian straw that broke the camel's back.

Her breath halted - not that it bothered her in any way - and her body seemed to go into survival mode. With silvery, featureless eyes she followed the Amazon's every move, as her brain tried to reassert control over its systems.

[Tomas Saint-Etienne]

Quote:

"What I propose is this. Let the bidding cap. We will find out who the winning bidder is, and then make our decision. If it is someone worthy of it's possession, and you have no personal fondness for the piece, then we shall let them keep it. But if it is some worthless primate or pandering Utopian, then we shall take it from him. Not only will he be denied it's possession, but he will suffer the consequences of stepping beyond his place, to the tune of $12 million dollars. And then we shall do with it what you will, whether that is keeping it for our own pleasure, or gifting it to some other nova or establishment of consequence. What do you say?"

For along moment Tomas was silent, his inhumanly beautiful features composed as he gazed up at Edward. The older Terat inwardly remarked how much less that distance was now. The youth was growing, becoming a young man, only his passionate distaste for baseline humanity the same as it had been two years ago. Skein was more thoughtful and less a creature of whimsical malicious hedonism these days, having learned and adopted some of Edward's sang froid in his decision-making. Still, the Quartet's darling little monster was, after all, still a Monster. Merely meeting his gaze was enough to remind even his family of that fact. The deep virulent emerald pools touched off echoes in the minds of those who looked into them, causing half-remembered fantasies or nightmares to flicker on the borders of the conscious and subconscious mind.

Finally a heartaching smile curved those lips and he appropriated Edward's glass of champagne, slender pale fingers merely brushing the older man's hand as he did so, but that seemingly casual contact was enough to cause Edward's belly and groin to tighten in a shiver of pleasure as Tomas sipped the champagne.

"Very well." Skein said with a sly smile for both Edward and Saori. "As usual, husband of mine, you make uncommon good sense. I shall be guided by you."

[GDP_ST]

Originally Posted By: Evo

"Oh, I prefer Sunshine. I only agreed to Alex because it sounded okay and people at Utopia really wanted me to have a normal name." Sunshine explained with nary a hint of concern that he felt about the limitations the Facility staff had been trying to put to him. He glanced curiously to Donald, remembering a name he'd heard Donald be referred as in the process of finding out his elite status. "Sometimes people call you Evo. Which do you prefer?"

"Either is fine," Donald responded simply, "I don't prefer one over the other." Shae noted that unlike many of the few novas she'd seen, Donald had no quantum enhanced personality, appearance, or a truly distinct feature. He did seem, to an observer who hadn't seen his shifting or other abilities in action, rather ordinary.

"Though as for my two bits on the claims of Utopia and the actuality..." Donald prepared to civilly ford into the dangerous waters here, with a calm look at the shining young nova and the more fey female Shae, "there is as you say Shae, a generalization propagated which can be considered by some insulting and inaccurate. Utopia is in an ideological war. And war, one tends to demonize the enemy."

His eyes told that he was speaking from experience. "On the other hand, the mass opinion of the Teragen is not free from this tendency either. As an elite, I find the suggestion that I prostituted myself quite insulting. After all, we made the choice to do so. The core of Teras is that novas must find their own way? I'd say I have, just not the way you'd expect."

Donald shrugged nonchalantly, voice not wavering or showing any direct signs of anger, just making his point. "The difference is in one's interpretation."

Sunshine nodded slightly at Evo's words, his fair brow furrowed very slightly as yet again a rogue lock of his golden mane of hair flopped over his eyes. He swiped it back and away, not noticing it's slow creep back as he spoke.

"I suppose you're right, Donald." he replied in that glorious vibrant tenor. "I don't see you or Ein as prostitutes any more than say, Narcosis is. Or Bombshell. Or Rob Steele. They all define their place in the world and seem happy in it. I don't think most prostitutes are happy with their place." he shrugged. "Of course, I don't know any personally. But one of the meanings of the word is to lower yourself for an unworthy cause or purpose, so then it comes down to what people consider worthy, and that's really subjective." he declared with all the conviction of youth.

"What do you think, Shae?" he turned his smiling blue gaze her way. "As an individual and a Terat? Is there a difference? So far the Terats I've met seem very different from each other as well as other novas."

[z017]

Shae gave an elegant shrug, "Well, I have known several of the classical sense in my past. Some of them were quite content in their place, others resented what they did to survive, and yet others were too addicted or broken to care one way or another."

Her lips quirked and she resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the stray hair behind the glowing nova's ear. He was simply adorable! "Though from what I know of Narcosis, she would never equate herself to those that I knew before, in race or profession." She nodded to Donald, "I have no issue with novas that choose to become Elites, nor do I see that as inherently opposed to the Teras philosophy. I might personally think that there are worthier causes to serve than the bank balance of DeVries or other such companies, thus placing the choice of becoming an Elite as lower than what I would aspire to personally, but I also hold that novas should be free to make their way in the world as they will. So if you prefer the life of an Elite, then as a follower of Teras who am I to deny you that freedom?"

"As for the difference between a personal answer and a Teragen answer, the philosophy of Teras provides only a framework for the individual nova to experience themselves and their evolution. Ask twenty Terats the same question and you'll most likely get twenty five different answers." She tilted her head to the side, her emerald eyes curious.

"What of you, Sunshine? You said the Utopians wanted you to have a normal name," her tone indicated her disdain for both the Project and the concept of normal, "so was Sunshine your name from before? Or something else?" Her interest was obviously piqued, though she had learned enough restraint from her family over the past year not to simply bring the brunt of her abilities to bear to acquire what she wanted. Patience, anticipation is a most heady aphrodisiac.

[GDP_ST]

"Oh, that was the name Jael Carver gave me when I was found." Sunshine said breezily. To a greater or lesser extent, the glowing nova was unaware that most of the world was aware of the couple of novas who had emerged from the ruins of the Crush reborn, namely himself and Donald. Which was fortunate, for Shae herself was not terribly conversant with recent affairs herself. At the time the Crush had happened, she had been wrapped up in learning Teras and finding her identity both within and separate from the Quartet. "I don't remember anything before waking up in a tent at the Crush field hospital and not knowing anything. I was a blank slate." he said without any real sadness or resignation. He had known nothing else, and did not see the point in bemoaning the loss of something he never could miss.

"Jael was the one that found me in the rubble and brought me to the hospital. She was the first person to talk to me, and look after me." Sunshine went on with a winning smile. "She called me Sunshine. I liked the name then and I do now - it defines me, or I define it. Both, perhaps?" He chuckled. "I know it's not a catchy, impressive name like Bombshell or Core, but I like it. For now and the foreseeable future, at least." he added. "I don't like to deal in absolutes like "I'd never" or "I'll always" unless I'm really sure. It's like making a promise you don't know if you can keep."

[WhiteRain]

She felt... strange, when the bust was carted away. Up until that moment she endured it all with patient tolerance, uninvolved, uncaring, faintly annoyed. But then, her gut twisted. That urge to grasp it, to stretch herself around and consume it, came on with painful acuity.

It felt wrong to let it go like this. Yet she would let it go. She had given her word, and the word of Chang Zha-Yang would always mean something so long as she lived.

This required immediate analysis. Quantum blazed through her mind, sparking off processes that a baseline mind could never imitate. A portion of her bore down upon this sudden twist of emotion and carried it off into the dark corners of perception, there to study and think and analyze.

"Miss Yang?" Someone said. Not the MC.

She walked towards the exit curtain, not thinking to say goodbye to the crowd. The baseline had been offering a microphone to her, but she ignored it, and allowed him to do what he willed. He stumbled over his words, thanked everyone, began to introduce whatever act was next.

Chang approached the exit curtain. She made no effort to brush it aside. Instead she compressed inwards, squeezing flat and slipping through the place where the curtains met. She flowered back up on the other side, to the shock of the baselines gathered beyond. They ceased their speaking for a few moments.

"Thank you for correcting the lighting," Chang said, her four-voice tone soft and, she thought, subtly menacing. She could feel emotion bubbling up from inside. Why? What had stirred her so?

The MC stared at her for a few moments, then nodded. "Yes, well... thank you for that. I'm sure it helped." No. That was the wrong way to say it. She could hear it in his voice. Oh he hid it well enough but not to her ear. She could hear the patronizing tone behind the polite facade.

"Funny," Chang said, her mismatched eyes blazing as she glared at the smug MC, "you seemed altogether flustered when I made the proposal. I had to ask not-so-nicely. You could have ruined everything. Why? Why would you do that?"

The baseline bristled. "Now, Ms. Yang, no need to be petty. We've all had-"

"It is not pettiness you dolt!" She could barely believe the fury in her own voice. It came on, sudden as a storm, hot as as a wind out of hell. "This is not some pissant commodity you've sold off. It's a part of me. I have no shame in stating my expertise in this arena, nor your incompetence. There is the right way to do things, and the wrong way. You would have foisted the wrong way upon me and everyone else, and for what? You would have ruined everything."

He bore a look, now, one of somewhat frightened, but patient indulgence. "Well, as you say," he said with a thin smile. "I think we ought to get on with the show now, eh?"

The flare of anger faded, almost as suddenly as it had come. Nothing remained in her but contempt, and curiousity. "Tell me why."

He frowned. "Why what?"

"Why did you resist when I told you to adjust the lighting."

They were all staring now, the baselines. Most of them looked scared. One of Chang's voices remained a fury, but the other three were calm, cool. The dischordance threw them off, she knew.

The MC blinked at her. His hair was short and black and gelled back, so she could see the sweat gathering in his pores in big fat drops and beginning to bleed out onto his skin. "You, you," he blinked at her as if she were insane.

"Why?" She said, her voices uniting again into that piercing, demanding tone.

It still took a few more moments before he mumbled, "You were holding up the schedule."

She smiled then. And nodded. How small that seemed. How insignificant. A schedule. For that he would have let a work of art be blemished, and let his own cause suffer. Chang pressed her fist into her palm, and bowed to him. "Thank you, sir. That is most enlightening."

Chang strode past him, past them, and headed back towards the skybox. Her role in the evening had come and gone. Now she was a spectator like any other.

When doors came up before her she squeezed and stretched herself through the gaps below or around them, so that her body seemed a constant warping band, contracting or bending this way and that.

Something had happened down there. The sometimes scared, always shocked eyes that followed her inspired feelings of joy, not the resignation she had grown accustomed to. She made herself fluctuate, her skin ripple and flutter like the surface of a windblown lake.

That part of her, that wild and free and emotional part, had stirred again. It roared in her heart. She understood their reason for action, and rejected it utterly. The MC had helped affirm her, though he did not know it and might not have wished to had he known. And when she felt affirmed, her shape had to flow and shift. It had to.

As she slipped back into the skybox where Donald, Sunshine and the others were gathered to talk and watch, Chang's hips broadened, her buttocks swelled and rounded out. Her triple breasts expanded, her waist pinched to give her a pronounced, unnatural hourglass figure. Her clothes rippled into hair, her shaft almost came free, but then her hair reformed, tightening into squeaking PVC, bulged tight around her cock, which nestled deep in her left cleavage. It split down the back, over her new full buttocks, where laces tied the split together and helped to define the shape. Her legs were bare from the knee down.

Her arms were free, too, and the flesh rippled to show a panoply of new tattoos, a dazzling variety of images and shapes. Demons laughing, angels playing, monsters chasing squirrels up dying trees toward a blazing sun.

She felt ravishing. Beautiful. She felt free.

Chang found a place near where she had been, where Donald and Sunshine and Shae were busy talking. But she kept a respectful distance. She knew nothing of their talk, and would not barge in.

Her body creaked and warped anew, and as she sat down her flesh expanded, PVC squeaking and flowering out into a great leather chair that she leaned back in, luxuriating in the supple texture.

She gave a satisfied sigh. "I think I need some sort of drink now," she said, putting a finger on her lips. She saw one of the baseline attendants. "Sir. Do you have wine?"

He came running over, with bottle and glass. She took the glass and swallowed it, gulping it down her throat. Then she warped her right hand into a gothic goblet she had once designed, and offered it to him. "Pour please, and do not stop until the wine threatens the rim."

[Bombshell]

Feeling faint for one of the only times in her new life, Jason instinctively took the chair Andy Vance graciously offered her with a playful smile and sat down, crossing her endlessly long legs and leaned forward, riveted by the the Bust and the bidding on screen. Outwardly, in elegant evening wear, Jason played the part of a poised, if intrigued woman. Inside, she was bewildered.

The numbers kept climbing, and even considering what she was payed for staring in a movie or posing for a photo-shoot, Jason's full lips parted as she inhaled a sharp gasp seeing the final bid of twelve million flashing on the screen. It was a shocking amount, and yet, for the sheer liveliness Chang had infused into stone, it seemed... trite. Will this boost the offers for posin' and shit, or slow them down, fearin' anything in comparison to the Maltese Bombshell will be inadequate? Hell, what will Chang be able to accomplish with me posin' specifically for her, rather than just a casual meetin' for an hour or two?

When the final bid for the Bust stood, others in the Talent Lounge came to up to congratulate it's living model, but Jason politely and earnestly refused their thanks. They were congratulating the wrong woman.

"You're givin' your kudos to the wrong woman," Jason protested, her rich, velvety soprano nothing but gracious, yet firm in her assertion. "That was all Chang Zha-Yang, guys, I just talked with her for a while and invited her to attend the VCCE. She's the one who deserves all the congratulations, and I hope you will offer them to her when she returns. She's earned them and more."

Waiting for Chang to return to offer her own sincere thanks for offering such a masterpiece to the Charity, the tall beauty circulated around the lounge, thanking the people who already participated and mentioning she was looking forward to see those who hadn't yet.

"Hey, seeing you prancing around in heels and a dress cut down to here, and knowing I'm gonna have your luscious self on stage at a Superbeast concert has made this more than worth it," Rob Steele laughed. Zoo Child at his side found her cheeks glowing red once more. Seeing her in real life, it was hard to remember Bombshell used to guy, and she was so beautiful, it hardly mattered she was woman.

"Any chance of you and Danielle rocking cocktail dresses at our QNA event?" Andy teased, an arm around Jake's waist.

"Sorry man, we have tuxes, but I don't think anyone'll be disappointed," Jason countered. She hadn't even had a problem with Ironskin Andy. "I know I could barely stop from ripping it off Dani."

In passing, Jason inquired if the silver-eyed woman sitting stiff in a chair was alright, and getting a slow, silent nod in reply, she grinned wryly. The woman was only suffering from a common effect to witnessing her beauty.

"Feel free to talk with me, when you catch your tongue, eh?" Jason offered Jadzia, then continued on to where Alex was speaking with Donald and another woman, a striking Irish lass in fine dress and jewelry. Though with Novas, appearance was hardly a true indicator of nationality. After all, I even picked up a tiny Russian accent along with the boobs. Thanks, Kat.

"Alex, havin' fun? You didn't get pawed too much usherin.' Jael has a sharp pair of claws, as I'm sure you know," Jason teased. If she thought it was a bit too early for Sunshine to have gotten intimate, well, she kept it to herself. She tried her best not to be a hypocrite. She hadn't even been sixteen when she got involved with Katya, and her own parents had been far from okay with it.

She had caught only the end of the conversation and decided to add her own bit. "Sunshine's plenty fine, but... it sounds like a pet name, something to be shared between you and Jael. Some people don't like to assume an familiarity that doesn't exist, eh?"

She gave Donald a nod in greeting. "Donald, nice to see ya. I hope you aren't on stage after Chang, 'cause that's gonna be a rough act to follow."

Jason smiled at the woman they were talking to, giving her an appreciative, if not interested, glance, and extending a hand to her.

"Hello, I hope you're enjoyin' yourself. So many Novas attending the event, I'm lost between who's participatin' and who's attendin.' I'm Jason Bellefleur." She spoke in a captivating, mellifluous voice that was a match for her captivating, nigh peerless pulchritude.

Jason tried to keep her attention politely on the red-haired beauty, but then Chang entered, her extravagant display drawing nearly all eyes, intrigued, disgusted, and everything between... It wasn't often Jason shared a room with a someone with an even more extravagant figure than hers. Jason didn't find her any less strange than before, but she couldn't deny how impressed she was with what Chang had accomplished. It had truly been a singular work of art.

Jason tilted her head in Chang's direction, lips curving in imitation of the grin on the Bust, her gratitude for Chang's gift shining forth.

"Well done, Chang, well done indeed." The words were simple, bare, but sincere, anything more would have felt sycophantic, cloying. "I'm rather intrigued with what you can accomplish when I actually pose for you. If there is anything else I can do for you, please, just ask."

[z017]

Sunshine's predicament, similar but different from her own, left Shae speechless for one of the few times in her life. Jason's arrival neatly filled the short gap in conversation, but Shae was only able to slip in a quiet, "Shae Mansfield, I'm here as a guest," before Chang entered. Like everyone else in the room, she found herself drawn to the artists display of personal...talent. The young woman's eyes traveled every stretchable inch of the other Terat, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks as her mind wandered over the possibilities - and Chang's ample assets.

Oh my, now isn't that interesting. *Beloveds, I do believe I have found someone you all simply must meet. Come find me in the Talent Room please?*

Chang... That name did ring a bell for her; she conjured up details from her time at the Blackburn of a Terat of exceptional artistic talents and moods. Edward had told her that she would be auctioning off a new piece for the charity, a rare event for her and one worth attending. Mingling, she decided, was fun.

[z-Xiao Saori]

Saori was a little bored. The Event was a prime example of the ways that baselines used novas, and she’d hoped to gain some further insights from observing things. However, it was all so very tedious. She was starting to wish she’d elected to view this from the safety of their rooms at the Blackburn. At least then when it became dull and insipid, she could fuck one or more of her spouses.

The petite Asian was dressed simply in a black dress that hugged her body. Random cut-outs along the dress revealed tasteful glimpses of ivory skin. Her long hair was swept back, half-piled up on her head to hang in a tail down her back. A wide black ribbon was tied around her neck, the laces draping under her hair. Her spouses had already had an engaging discussion about who would get the honors of untying her later.

Originally Posted By: Shae Mansfield

Oh my, now isn't that interesting. *Beloveds, I do believe I have found someone you all simply must meet. Come find me in the Talent Room please?*

I rather hope that this person is entertaining,Saori thought as she rose gracefully to her feet. When her husbands joined her, Saori looped her arms through theirs and let them walk her to the “Talent” Room/ Unless it is full of the One Race, I somehow doubt that name is accurate, she mused to herself. Still, she was all smiles and graciousness as they walked.

At the door to the Talent Room, a baseline looked like he might stop them, but Saori smiled, Edward ignored and Tomas winked. Under the triple assault, the baseline relented and opened the door. There was a time when Saori would have enjoyed seducing her way through the door, but she found even touching baselines distasteful. She would do it as needed but it was never something she enjoyed. Her spouses understood this, but Shae was so very eager. Sometimes, she would find a baseline toy she wanted to share.

So it was with a great relief that Saori scanned the room and saw Shae was not talking to a baseline. However, she was talking to ‘Bombshell’ which was only a step up from talking to a baseline. Shae, Shae… why?

Then she saw who Shae was looking at and understood. She owned her daughter/lover/wife an apology, one that Shae would be sure to extract it from Saori, to both of their pleasures. Shifting quantum through her body, she lifted her head a little higher and went to join her Shae. “Darling, who have you found?” she asked smoothly, smiling at all the novas in the room.

Click to reveal..

Initiating First Impressions pg 172 in Aberrant.