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Dawn OOC

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Martin was still a little shocked by the union of their two camps. But he couldn’t deny that the life of the islanders was improving. The first thing that Fox did was patrol the island, seeking the rogue. He hadn’t found it, but the attacks had stopped. Fox had his suspicions on the matter, but kept them quiet.

The next thing had been to sweep the island for zombies. There were still a few around and Martin’s people had been hesitantly slaying them. It was still perilous for them, but Fox, Dan and Draygo could kill zombies all day without even touching the ground.

Once the zombies were clear, Fox had moved over the first of the supplies: half the food and medicine and all of the non-essential supplies. Men and women to renovate the buildings came with, and soon the university was a mini-village. As rooms were prepared, Fox brought people over, carefully shifting supplies to make sure that neither side went without needed food.

Those people came over ready to work and started improvements. These went beyond the renovations that were required for basic living. They started to add the creature comforts. The women of the Red Tent took over a building, painted the door red, and went back to business. The rabbit breeder built a dozen new hutches for his new litters he planned for the spring. A woman set up her loom and started to make cloth. On and on it went; with sturdy buildings available, people were starting to relax and get comfortable.

It was that last part that won over the native people of the island. Before, they’d been surviving. Now they were living and seeing that they might be thriving. In return, some of them agreed to help clean out the weird facility that the doctor had found. It was a way of giving back.

Fox had also been careful to co-mingle the groups. He wanted a true community and for that, people needed to live together as one group. For that reason, he forced people to be neighbors. It didn’t make him any friends, but he hoped that would change when people made friends with their new neighbors.

Building something worthwhile takes time, Fox thought, watching a group of kids approach each other carefully before starting to play.

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It had been much longer than scheduled – his scouts had been out almost fifteen hours ... overdue by three hours and nineteen minutes by his watch. He was farther out than normal this time, doing a seaward flyover over the coast on the far side of Caracas. He, meaning two of his four clones that is. Two of the others had been sent the other way and weren't due back from their meet ups with traders for another hour. Varro stretched out in a lounge chair next to the dilapidated villa – once some sort of small, posh resort with no more than a dozen rooms. It had good bones, and the structures of stucco over cement block with double metal roof ... sensible construction that will last a century in the tropics, though the faux-thatch facade had begun to rot away. The grounds, however, had rapidly gone wild. In a decade it wouldn't be recognizable as having ever been civilized. "How quickly the works of man fade away" he mused to himself.

After clearing a few of the undead eleven days back he had started using the place as a forward base. He wasn't interested in material possessions right now, he was collecting information and sometimes you needed to pay for information. So he would send scouts out and they would collect things here at the forward point. He would stay central and collate the intelligence gathered, staying quiet and relatively alert. The choice trade-ables and duplicate records were ferried to a cavern-cache sixteen and one half miles from here about once every two to three days on quasi-random intervals. In trade he was generous because he wasn't looking for material profit. Even if there was another para-human looking to score loot that meant there wasn’t enough on hand to make a fight worthwhile.

Just as he had been transcribing the last of his entries, and pinning more points on the thumbtack map he heard the pre-arranged 'safe & approaching' call of an avian form clone. Stepping out into the tropical sun he searched the sky and it seemed the scout was coming in alone. That him shifted in mid flight - a 'blink' in reality - to touchdown in a run. It looked as if the poor fellow felt close to his end, having exerted himself too hard and too long. Clones only lasted for so long, and they could stretch themselves out if they could keep focus on what they were doing. This fellow had an intent look in his eye as he handed over the intake report. It was stenographic, a robust but short one-time-pad cypher that could not convey much detail but would be read as traders notes by anyone who hadn't been him – loosely translated:

No contact with other para-huamns. Observation of new enclave – Curacao. Safe to recombine.

Just before taking the report, Varro prime had opened up his para-awareness to sense if there was anything amiss with the clone. He had no idea what to look for, except for deviation from his own familiar, properly patterned other-self. Its aura of brilliant Gold densely packed with delicate spidery black veins looked normal, even that him had been pushing himself hard and trying to hold together. That other him, on the verge of fading away, offered his hand and Varro prime took it. In one instant 'film cut' – a 'blink' – two men vanished and one remained. The memories of the clone infused his mind – getting a good tailwind and deciding to push further up the coast toward Curacao ... the sight of activity, of construction on the island – too far away to make out details even with the incredible vision of the avian scout form eyes. Stopping to inspect the abandoned lighthouse on Klein Curacoa ... Having to return on the double, tantalizing hints of a new enclave on Curacao. The other scout not being able to keep up, less luck with the winds – his dissipation by temporal expiration.

Intrigued, Varro packed up his notes – placing them in the big stone pickling pots of the villa pantry so insects wouldn't get the paper. From the panty he grabbed his backpack, some assorted semi-perishable foodstuffs – mostly coconuts - and a few hand tools all for use as token gifts. Donning his red cross tabard, and packing his web-gear for a normal enough 'human' but highly armoured form ... he put his hat back on and vanished. In that instant he was in the radiant void, moving his mind through the timeless layers of exotic energy. In the same real world instant he was now standing on the steps of the abandoned lighthouse, just miles from the Refuge. In light meditation under one of the interior arches – out of view – he gathered his temporary-para-potential. An hour later, mid afternoon, he shifted to avian form and created new clones. Two of them made haste toward the refuge – one of them would observe on high, and in minutes one would make his introduction.

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It had been a good day, Fox mused, watching the people work. They'd gotten a lot done, particularly improvements on indoor plumbing. The supplies to keep the systems working had run out rapidly but Fox's arrival had reopened an easy supply train. It made him feel good, better than he thought it would, to come in here and improve life. And stepping into existing structures made it easier to get things working properly. Knowing that his people weren't sleeping in tents made him feel so much better. He felt true pride in what had been done.

Now, all that was left was to transfer the nukes and his personal stores.

"Morgan." His only regret had slipped up behind him and spoken; the red-headed leader turned to face Jules. She looked hot, as always, but in her unachievable way. It only made him want her more, but that ship had sailed already. Her doe eyes settled on him and made his heart skip a beat. She was sweating and her hair was pulled back into a messy braid, but even that couldn't take away from her beauty.

"Jules, what's up?"

"You've got things buttoned up here," she said, rubbing at her glistening forehead. "I want to be taken back. I want to look for the people Violet left with."

Fox blinked. "In the name of god, why?" He didn't think she'd leave to go with them... she didn't seem the type... but was she?

"I want to rescue Dan's kids," the native woman told him, setting her jaw. "Those kids have no chance if they grow up with her as a mother and Han as their father. And no, I don't think James will be able to salvage them."

"Agreed... so what's the plan?" he asked, only to stop when he saw a stranger approaching.

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The two gunmetal clad birds stayed high, hoping to look normal with wide soaring circles - from a distance it would be difficult to notice they were armoured. He watched for some time, making wide circles out to sea and back again. It looked safe enough - normal - but Varro never really knew exactly what that meant. He'd run into other groups that look sane enough on the surface - from a distance - and he'd been wrong. One bird touched down, hopefully out of sight ... and shifted. His new form was human looking, like the original him - but armoured - and he might need his strength so he boosted that too.

Walking the streets, he was amazed how clean things were. They'd been taking care of the place and cleared at least this far away from their apparent base too. Maybe they'd cleared most of he island? Hard to say - the zombs can lurk inside. He was in the open though, and he'd stay out in the open as long as possible so the other him could observe from on high. If he got shot, he'd be visible ... and the other could fly away to report the group if they were hostile. Don't want to get shot though, even if I am a clone - he thought. He could hear signs of activity now, so he slowed his pace and adjusted the red cross on his chest. He thought about putting his hands up, but that would be a sign of weakness. So he held his hands clearly open, slightly out to his sides and in view. In the distance, people were working, carrying things to and fro, and two people were supervising ...

Clad in white white with the red cross, hand open in an 'unarmed' gesture, Varro shouted to the man and woman who might be leaders "Hello. I came to talk. I am a doctor ... Hello?" he said, thinking Okay, so we - I - don't do enough talking - that was sort of clumsy. Hope they speak english. Varro stopped and stood still, not making any sudden moves.

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Jules turned sharply, her black braids flying from under the handkerchief she was using to keep her hair off her face. She eyed the newcomer with a bit of suspicion - after all, she didn't know who he was, and after this long, the island should no longer hold any surprises - particularly a surprise claiming to be a doctor. "Who are you?" she asked, her well-deep eyes narrowing at him. She wasn't armed - and boy was she regretting leaving her rifle behind today. "Better, how'd you get here?"

"Jules, we don't need to interrogate him," Morgan said with a soft voice as he stepped forward and offered a hand. "Please forgive my beautiful friend - she is merely very safety conscious." Jules scowled at his dismissal of her concerns but remained silent. If Fox wanted to play good cop to her bad, she'd let him. But she still didn't like it.

"Alright, sorry," she said, managing an uneasy smile. "Welcome to Fox's Refuge." As Fox beamed at her warmer welcome, she added, "Anyone who follows the rules is welcome; those that make trouble find we can make a lot of it back." As Fox looked both amused and despairing of her welcome, she added, "Are you passing through, looking for trade goods, or do you plan a longer stay?"

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"Questions are fair, an understandable precaution. My name is Doctor Varroxxian, or just Varro if you prefer. I came here to visit your settlement, and I flew here after seeing activity in the distance." he said to both of them. He paused briefly to point to his pack and added "I am unarmed, and I brought gifts as a token of good will - so I am going to slowly put them on the ground over here".

As he slowly took off his pack, he continued "This may sound strange, but since Z-day some people have been able to do amazing things. I am one of those people. For example, I can change into a bird. I have never been up this far as I have been travelling islands to the east of here ... looking for people like me who aren't hostile".

He though to himself, all the while 'that last bit never sounds right, how do you explain super powers? oh well'. and thinking 'that woman looks so fffiiiinnnee' at the same time.

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A corner of the woman's mouth quirked up at Varro's 'strange' statement. "You'll find a number of us here who can do odd things," Jules admitted. Looking a little more relaxed - mostly by the way he was acting, since he hadn't drawn a rifle or snuck around acting shady - she rubbing an arm over her forehead, though all she did was move the dirt around.

"Indeed," Fox replied, rising a few feet off the ground and hanging there.

"Show off," Jules muttered, throwing him a mock-annoyed look.

Fox grinned at her, then turned his attention back to Varro. As his feet settled back on the ground, he said, "I'm Captain Morgan Fox, leader of Fox's Refuge." He offered his hand to the newcomer, which Varro was inclined to take - the guy seemed really personable - a true leader. "This is Jules, sometimes my second-in-command and sometimes just a pain in the ass."

The pain in question rolled her pretty brown eyes and said, "What he means is that I make him take care of things he'd rather I take care of."

"Yeah, why don't you take care of those again?" he asked, his vulpine grin infectious.

"Because it's not WhiteElk's Refuge," Jules told him, then offered her hand to Varro. Again, he was inclined to take it, but for completely different reasons than with Fox. "I'm Julia WhiteElk - call me Jules."

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Shaking hands, smiling a smile that betrayed how elated he was to meet both of them and accidentally showing his metallic teeth Varro said "Great to meet you both, and what luck! Originally I hadn't even planned to do flyovers of Caracas and the nearby coast ... the major population centers east of here are infested with undead. But I decided to see if there were any active governmental refuges or bases so I figured I'd they'd likely be near the capitol. I didn't see anything on my first rounds of the area, and I was doing high altitude so I barely caught signs of activity here. " Varro also intently eyed Fox, thinking 'non-aerodynamic levitation, maybe even flight and its not likely mag lev ... interesting'.

He brought a notebook out from his web-gear, and flipped pages as he continued "I've been traveling for some time. I became a para-human on Z-day while I was on a Royal Caribbean cruise with my girlfriend. I was on a bit of an extended celebration after finishing Harvard medical. The old people turned after an extended bout of flu like symptoms and then fever. After that, I tried to help people where I could but I don't fit in well ... some people are afraid of me" he says, showing a fang, and continues ", many just don't speak English. Lots of them are superstitious or are being mistreated by local para-humans mad with power. I started approximately here ..." pointing to a chain of small islands on his sketched map which would be hundreds of miles away on the other side of the Caribbean sea.

"... and have been trying to find para-humans or a settlement with modern facilities, rule of law, that sort of thing. Are you university staff? This is - or was - a university campus right? As you can imagine I am full of questions ... oh and it's not much but please do enjoy the coconuts and tools. I have been traveling light, not really a big trader. If you need medical services though, that I can offer ... also great at moving heavy things, standing in for heavy equipment." he says while looking around and thinking 'I really hope this isn't too good to be true'.

...

Not wanting to monopolize the conversation - but realizing in his well intentioned enthusiasm he might have - Varro waited for the opportunity to add "Would it be too much to ask for a tour?".

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"Maybe," Jules said, propping a hand up on her waist.

"Don't mind her," Fox told him with a grin. The sunlight turned his hair a fiery gold as he assured Varro, "We have a couple of doctors, but we're always happy to have more. One of them, Myf is on the US continent, working on a cure for the Z.

"This was a university, but we took it over - banded together with the people who were here to clean out the island and share a home together," Fox continued. "I think that the people who were here were hiding a lot, so I'm not sure there was a lot of activity to see. We're a more.... active bunch."

"Uh huh," Jules said, rolling her eyes on the wicked grin Fox gave her. "We're not that 'active', since V and James left."

"Tsk, tsk," Fox added. "Ares."

"Varro, you want a tour then?" she asked ignoring Fox.

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"Yes please." said Varro, hoping that this was going to be a real settlement. Certainly, if they'd cleared the island they could have a real chance here.

"If you don't mind, how many para-humans are in your group and what is the population size? I ask because I am interested in the establishing the incidence rate of human to para-human." he asked as they began the walking tour, adding "I have been collecting data but I think the conditions in the area are skewing may data - my hope is that para-humans in my neck of the woods might be more solitary and thus I haven't been encountering many of them. If it were possible to get enough para-humans working together we might be able to turn the ... situation of the world ... well turn it all around and make some progress."

He would leave the hard questions about sterility and pregnancy to a later date - no need to spoil a good mood. On that note, he pulls out a few pieces of toffee from his web gear and before savouring one himself offers "Piece of toffee anyone? I've got regular and eclair."

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Both of the residents passed on the candy. "We're not sure on population yet," Fox admitted, handling the questions in no particular order. "Part of the settling process was working out who stayed at our old location permanently, those unwilling to move, and those who were here. That last is compounded by people hiding in small groups throughout the island. Finding them all has been entertaining. Some of them as deeply entrenched and hidden. We're over five hundred strong, but less than thirty of those are... para-human. We call 'em supers." He grinned at the name. "Everyone has a different word, it seems."

"Your data is probably skewed by how easy it is for a normal person to die now," Jules said softly. "The ratio of supers to norms is affected by the high mortality rate in the norms, I'd guess. And before we turn anything around, we have to stop the people who are screwing it up. Between some military compound making people sick trying to find the virus and the fuckin' Olymi-pains, we have an uphill battle."

"True," Fox agreed. Across the open ground, Ger waved to him and Fox nodded. "I have something to deal with. Jules, do you mind finishing the tour, seeing to our guest's needs?"

"Not a problem," Jules said after a moment of silence. She gave Varro a polite smile. "This way, please. I'm sure you have lots of questions."

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Varro nodded at the mention of approximate populations, saying "very large, excellent", and smiled at the idea that everyone has a different word for 'supers' adding "the old world ended and this one is brand new - still working itself out day by day".

...

At the mention of Fox stepping away and the tour continuing Varro replies "Oh yes, please let's - and great to meet you Captain Fox."

...

To Jules, Varro replies "Indeed, I think you are quite right - certain situational and geographical mortality rates skew things as outlying data. Some areas are also much safer than others but I have been excluding major population centres because almost no one survives and the data is hard to get. Even with measures like limiting counts to rural areas and accounting for migrations like that of your encalve ... it might be years before enough data comes together for more than a rough extrapolative MLR model. Still, keeping the data is important on so many topics so I try to keep voluminous notes." as he pulls out his notebook and pencil to write as they talk. He keeps eye contact while speaking, apparently taking shorthand while saying "I've run into a few para -- supers who don't value human life except as kindling that might fuel the fires of their personal empires. Oh and about O-lymi-pai-ns? Sorry I don't know ..."

...

... adding in another question after her reply ... "Do you have or know anyone studying the phenomenon? Have you heard of efforts to develop vaccines or treatments, for example?"

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Jules wondered why he was bothering to keep this information. There were a lot more important things to be putting time and energy into right now. Still, she knew that someone would likely want this data later, and for that, she kept her mouth shut. "The Olymi-pains are supers that have decided they are gods reincarnated or some such shit," she told Varro bluntly. "Two of their kind came a'visitin' while most of our supers were gone one day dealing with some crap and managed to convince one of ours named Violet that she was one of them." Jules's dark eyes were practically snapping with anger. "Of course, V was always chasing after the newest shiniest dick. Only problem was she took Dan's kids with her." At Varro's look she shook her head and said, "She's knocked up, is all."

Varro blinked at her in surprise. "Really?" he managed after a moment.

"Yeah, her and Kristin... about Kristin, she didn't choose to be pregnant, so be careful around her. She doesn't deal well with men," Jules added in a soft undertone. They had been approaching a building, now Jules opened the front door to show a hallway. People were milling about, many who greeted her by name. She spoke politely, introduced Varro and ignored the men staring at her. "These are our current housing," she explained, adding, "they used to be dorms and campus housing."

She led him out the back and in quick succession, showed him the cafeteria and library. "We're proud of this," she said, smiling at the shelves of books. "We've managed to save some basic knowledge, along with some literature. Not everything," she sighed, her expression darkening a touch. "But it's a start. However, I think you're going to be interested in the clinic; they're keeping the medical texts there, but more important I can tell you about Myf's research. She's working on curing the Z."

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Still mulling over the fact that there were pregnancies and possibly even children since Z-day, he thought 'that changes the data significantly ... it means that a critical datapoint is no longer zero. In the long term this could be the salvation of the species' ... it made him smile, mental wheels clearly whirring behind his contemplative expression.

Then Jules mentioned Kristin, and his mind sifted gears to solemn thoughts of his experiences of para-humans abusing their power. He said in reply "Certainly. I will be careful around her - and perhaps in this case someone familiar should handle that introduction when the time comes. After all, to her I am just a stranger, and thus only a man."

...

Noting the mere fact that they had a working cafeteria with what seemed enough food for everyone he was clearly impressed ... and the library brought an ear-to-ear smile to his face as he said "Your community has done good work here. This really is great - a very important step. If I am welcome, I would gladly help ..." at that moment she mentioned Myf and her research effort ... almost stunned asking "You have a full laboratory? Facilities enough to work on a cure?" his expression showing, just for a moment, a hint of this-is-too-good-to-be true. He collected himself in an instant, letting her reply ...

...

While on the topic of Myf he added "Without a lab - and without collaboration - all I've been able to do is collect field data and help people along the way ..." not exactly true he thought maybe I was still feeling sorry for myself, maybe I was selfishly revelling in my new abilities - but now its time "... I believe I can be of assistance in the research. Never got the chance to specialize, but in school I did prep to enter a career with big pharma, experimental medicine and the bio-nano program that Bush was pushing a few years back." Thinking to himself 'Ironic, I had been dreaming of big money medicine ... lets face it, for the money. Now there's no money in it - but those sorts of things are so utterly unimportant now'.

Varro let himself be led on the rest of the tour ... not falling behind for even a second. On the way to the clinic Jules went over the rules, the law as it were, and went over the who's who of the refuge. Suddenly, it seemed there was so little time.

Along the way, they ran into a few children playing - Varro gave them some toffee, careful to not show his teeth when he smiled - There is hope he thought.

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