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Mutants & Masterminds: The Magisterium - Home is Where...

Dawn OOC

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The warp opened into a tree canopy. It was dark enough that reading would have been difficult. There was almost no growth; the thin soil had only scrawny plants growing in it. It was hot and humid; the air was thick with moisture. It smelled like the wilderness, and the scent of water hung in the air. Animals were screaming in alarm at their sudden appearance. Ahead of them, a hesitation in the density of trees revealed an old temple. The stone rose in stairs and blocks, though some of it was crumbling.

Matt grinned and stepped backward, waving them away from the temple. “The under-canopy entrance is back here.” Now his smile was proud as he explained, “I added this entrance so we wouldn’t risk being seen coming and going by spy satellites.”

“Where are we?” Rebekka asked softly.

“We’re in Guatemala.” Jack was being picked up by David; clearly he found this undignified but he continued to share his information as he was carried like a child. “Almost in Mexico. This is an old Mayan temple, refurnished courtesy of our earthmover.” Matt bowed, smiling. Their rescuers seemed more relaxed now that they were here and the warp was closed.

The under-canopy entrance appeared to be little-more than a hole in the ground; once inside, there were handholds in the stone. The tunnel under the ground was straight and smooth; electrical cords appeared to be trapped in blocks of stone along the ceiling. Matt had gone first, showing people where to grab, then he was the one leading the tour.

They were walked back toward the temple, rooms opening up quickly. At first they were storage areas; next they were empty rooms. There were more rooms than people, even after the increase in numbers with the escapees. Lights came from lanterns that were plugged into the cords or by chemical glow sticks. “The power comes from generators, back in a cavern that way. We have to steal gas or propane for them.” David smiled. “Pick a room, make it home. We have blankets and basic bedding in all the rooms, but let me know if you need anything. Or want. We can’t guanatee anything, but I’ll do what I can to make this feel like home to you.”

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Lamia stared at the hole that the others were quickly vanishing into, the heat of primal fear coiling in her gut. She let the young man that had been called Dog drop her hand as he moved towards the promised sanctuary and rest inside the ruin. She tried to follow him, but she couldn't move her legs. She could hear a rushing sound and feel a dull throbbing running her body; after a moment she realized that she had stopped breathing. The sound was her own blood and the throb was chasing from her aching lungs through her futilely fluttering heart. She gasped in air and crumpled to her knees still several feet from the hole where most of the others had already disappeared into.

She wasn't aware that David had been behind her. As Lamia went down on her knees, he came up behind her and knelt, putting gentle hands on her shoulders. "It's all right." His voice was soft and soothing. "Just breathe."

She started at the touch, flinching away from him before remembering that he wasn't a priest and she wasn't in chains. She stayed where she was, focusing on how to breathe, on the scent of living plants and the feel of a fresh breeze across her skin. Anything to push away the memories of centuries inside stone walls. "I...I can't," she stopped and swallowed, then started again. "I will have to go somewhere else. This is not a place I can even step into." There was shame and venom mixed in the words, a disgust nursed inside her since the upstart emperor Flavius Theodosius Augustus had locked her away from her people in favor of his dead god.

"Sure. We'd worried about that." David didn't sound judgmental or angry. If anything, he was sad, but Lamia knew him well enough already to know that he wasn't sad that she couldn't enter the tunnel. He was sad she'd been treated so badly. "I'll get Matt to get something made for you up here. No, don't make that face. It'll take him thirty minutes tops and he'll enjoy doing it. He likes to make things with his hands." David smiled bemusedly. "Even if that's actually with his power and not his hands. Just a moment." David moved to the hole and shouted down it; a few moments later, he said, "Tell Matt to come up here once he can."

David looked back at Lamia and came to sit by her. "Just be a moment." He gave her a weary smile.

She nodded, her breathing still fast and shallow and her heart beating like a caged bird against her chest, but she could feel some control returning. She gave the leader of her rescuers a considering look. "You're tired. You should go rest. If they still found a way to follow us...." She sighed, "You will be needed more than I."

David shook his head. "I'm not tired. It's been an emotional day. Lots of good and bad." He paused and added, "It's always rough to see Amanda. She's so very angry at me. It's like my mere presence hurts her so much she has to lash out at it."

"She is family?" Lamia hadn't been able to hear the argument between the two powerful mutants during their escape. Battle had a way of being loud like that.

He nodded and murmured, "My sister."

"Family is difficult," Lamia said as she finally found the strength to move, sitting across from him and unconsciously mimicking his posture. "Families of power even more so. Why did you rescue us?" She motioned to the pyramid to include all the newly freed mutants. "Why us in particular? I understand some of them, but not all. The child is no warrior yet and I..." She glanced at the tunnel again. "I have not been for a very long time, nor can I move things about with my thoughts or make and unmake the world at a whim."

Nearly calmed grey eyes sought his, “Why us, why now?”

"Why now is because it took this long to get all the pieces together. Finding Tyrone was the final piece. His warps were the reason we'd be able to hit three places at once. It took time for Raven to infiltrate the DEHA and get into the right bed and gain influence." David shook his head. "Today was the culmination of work I started almost from the moment I gained my freedom four and a half years ago."

He looked at her with eyes as gray as her own. "As far as who, that was a mixture of who would be the most useful, who was clumped with others we'd targeted and who we could get together. For example, we almost didn't get Grav; her addition to her team was last-minute." He looked sad as he said, "It was as much about luck as about our planning."

She shook and for a moment he thought she was going to cry. Instead a laugh only tinged with hysteria bubbled out of the dark woman. "That is fitting, I guess. Fate and luck have ever been fickle bitches." She shook her head, trying to clear the remaining dread. "I am sorry, David. I fear it will be some time before I am anything more than an accidental addition. No doubt any family that would have followed my call have long forgotten me. They probably serve the fish now."

She shrugged. "I can cook and mend things and watch the little ones, but it has never been my place to shake the earth or call lightening from the sky or any of the other of the divine gifts my children have."

David shook his head. "War isn't all about fighting, Lamia. Sometimes, it's about what is right. The stories I've heard about the way mutants are being treated... we're going to have a lot of very emotionally sick people with incredible powers running about the earth once we free them. Some of them will have never needed to control themselves and will have no idea what to do with free will. Some will just try to hurt everyone. We need someone like you, who can do what you did with H.L. And I choose to save a woman who was being raped over and over. Had I chosen to leave you, Lamia, I wouldn't be able to look in the mirror."

"Ache El? Is that that young man's name? I refuse to call him a dog." She looked away for a moment, pushing down even more demons into a cold dark space inside her. "And thank you. I was...I would have been..." She took another deep breath. "The rape was not welcomed, but it was not the worst of what was done to me. So. Thank you, for the children who will not be stolen from me again."

"His code name is Hard Light. He wasn't given a name." David looked like he was getting angry again. "The man in charge of him called him a dog. He's never been treated like a person. Only a weapon. Just as they only used you. And used me." He rubbed the back of his left hand, where the barcode tattoo was slowly fading. It had been sliced with an X. "Used all of us for whatever cheap, sick thrills they could dream of. Abused-" He cut off sharply. "You're welcome though no thanks are necessary. It still kills me that there were others we couldn't get out."

"I've had many names," she said softly. "The one the followers of the fish gave me was 'Lamia', for the demoness consort of their god's enemy. The Mother of Demons, they called me." She ran her fingers over the fading lines of ink on his skin. "I think I will keep the name and remind them why they once feared me so greatly that they killed me every dusk and dawn for thirteen years, hoping each day that that day would be the one that the power of their god would overcome me."

“We will help our new young friend to find his own name, yes?” She covered the offensive marks and smiled at him, somehow blending a warmth for him and spite for their common enemies. “And we will rescue all the others that may be rescued, and take our vengeance for those that cannot.” She let out a real laugh this time. “I seem to be saying that a great deal today. Perhaps there is a part of me that still is Neith.”

"All they've really left us is vengeance," David replied softly. He looked at the back of her wrist. "Do you want to slice them?"

She shrugged. "Yes, but they'll fade as quickly as the scars." She looked up at him, "Somehow, that seem unfair now. I hate them, these lines, but they'll be gone within a month, maybe two, and I want to keep them - and the scars. Not to remember. I can't forget. Not anything. But to show the others. The ones we rescue as a reminder for them, and our enemies to remember that they cannot win."

"I guess you could redo them every month," David said, smiling slightly, "but that seems a bit silly." His smile faded. "Your stories will be enough for the ones we rescue, and your vengeance enough for your enemies." He touched the uncut lines softly. "You could say that your body will slice the lines for you."

She nodded, the ghost of her smile lingering. "I suppose. It has been a long fall for me, David." The smile flickered away and a line of worry creased her forehead. "Do...do you know what happened to John Howsted? He was like me, at least before. Younger, but he...he healed."

"His government tested him with drugs. There are ones that will retard the healing process. Keep them in someone's system long enough and they don't heal anymore. Those bastards did that to one of their own knights. Declared him dead and treated him as a science experiment." David was getting mad again.

"Is there anything that can be done?" her hand closed over his, sharing his anger and frustration. "They took blood samples from me regularly. I heard Dr. Rankis speak of experiments to use my blood to heal soldiers, but that was...perhaps two years ago?" She squeezed his hand, "He is a good man, David. Kind and gentle when he didn't have to be. Shamed when he was given no more choice than I. It is one thing to carry the scars of battle with pride, it is another to butchered by your own people." Her tone was one of empathy, not sympathy. "He ages," she whispered to herself, "Such fickles bitches."

"We'll do what we can. Jeremy has some knowledge of chemicals, there's your blood, there's Mary." His smile was hard and grim as he added, "We have a real force here. A small one, but with the power to do some incredible good. There are a lot of wrongs to right."

“Yes, there are. The others are getting settled in,” Matt pulled himself out of the tunnel with practiced ease; he glanced at David, who nodded. “Let’s start with a proper home for you, Lamia. There’s a small clearing with a waterfall around the back of the temple with enough canopy cover to keep out pesky satellite spying.”

At Lamia’s blank look, he just laughed and held out a hand for her. “C’mon, I’ll show you. It’s really beautiful and we can put together a nice cottage before nightfall. Promise.”

For those inside.
Matt was gone however long was appropriate for whatever you guys want to do inside. :)
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Travis grunted as humid heat slapped him in the face. He looked around, bemused, at the dark cavern of foliage and earth. "Ya know, smarter folks than me would probably make a joke about going from the sunlit day to night to," he waved a hand around, "this ..." He sneered at the crumbling temple, and the mention of "basic" bedding. "I fuckin' hate camping. Can't we find someplace with room service and a hot tub? Jacuzzi?" Raven, May, whatever, gave him a level look that attempted to hide amusement. "A bar? Come on, seriously. This is like a no star resort."

May prodded his side, "Keep walking you big baby, it's a lot less crappy than it looks."

Travis walked on, unperturbed by the jabbing finger, he barely even felt it, "Oh, well, if that isn't a glowing review I don't know what is. 'Less crappy than it looks.' That's like saying that a kick to the balls hurts less than a gunshot wound to the gut. It's true, but it still sucks ass."

May rolled her eyes, rolled Raven's eyes Travis supposed, "Why did we rescue you again?"

"Cause I'm awesome?"


"'Cause," he started and then leaned over and whispered the rest into her ear. She giggled and went slightly flush. "Yeah, I figured it was that. Plus, I am awesome."

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Gold stepped through the portal into the wet jungle heat, and looked up at the old temple. He listened quietly as the mutant – Lamia, apparently – had her little break down and chatted with their savior.

He kept more or less out of sight. It wasn’t hard with trees and foliage on every side.

Guatemala. It was like going out on a holiday.

A small coil of contempt unfurled when Travis began bitching about the conditions. “You could always go back and get thrown in the freezer,” Gold murmured. He had overheard enough of the man’s ranting earlier to gather he was kept in cold storage. The way Gold read it this place provided plenty of room for him to fuck his girlfriend. That seemed like a decent bit of furnishing.

Travis seemed to be all bluster. Gold didn’t like bluster. He was powerful and angry, though, and would kill when the killing started. If it came to a fight he would rather be on the telekinetic’s side than the other one.

The offer to ‘pick a room’ and ‘make it home’ left him feeling oddly confused. Gold could not quite picture what a ‘home’ would look like for him. His little cabin in the wood or up in the mountains was half-formed in his mind. It was a concept, not real.

Just like he didn’t know what he truly wanted, he didn’t know what he needed. There was an unformed something missing from Gold’s head. Maybe it just came down to a lack of experience.

The only thing he had to fall back on were the old memories of his childhood, the basketball hoop on the inside of his door, pinned above the poster of John Cena. He liked wrestling as a kid.

Gold slipped up into the low branches of a nearby tree. He made it look easy. His athleticism was not entirely natural, and his balance was flawless. He waited for the two of them to finish talking, for Matt to go wandering off to make a cottage in the woods.

He felt divided, confused. He could go into that temple, find a room, drop down on bedding and sleep. He could lie there, sighing, not knowing what was missing. Or he could do something unthinkable, something unimaginable and beyond the conception of mortal men: he could talk to someone.

Gold leapt from his perch to another, crouching on it over Lamia. “Hey,” he called.

She craned her neck to look at him, and raised one eyebrow.

The jungle – like all jungles – looked better from above. More life in the branches, more life on the ground, and it was more visible from above. “Um, I’m not very good at talking. I don’t have anywhere to go. Mind if I crash on your couch?” He shrugged. “So to speak.”

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Lamia frowned, sorting through the words to put the meaning together into something sensible. "I don't know if there will be a couch, but from what David has said, Matt enjoys making homes." She stood up and motioned over to where Matt was waiting for her, just around one corner of the ruin. "Perhaps he would make another for you, or a larger one that we could share?"

She began following Matt, glancing up to make sure that the gold-haired man was following. The area was just as described: dense canopy over an area with several large open spaces on the jungle floor; there was a brook meandering through on one side, small but clear and bubbling. It fell over a cliff of maybe sixty feet into a deep pool large enough for swimming and then continued its lazy path through the forest; a ways down another small creek joined with it to make a proper stream. "Matt," she called out to the stone-shapper and then motioned up to Gold, still in the trees above, "he would like to live up here as well. Can that be done?"

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The jungle was humid and gloomy. Dog wrinkled his nose and the difference in smells and humidity as he stepped out of the portal. He looked around nervously and jumped a little bit when a tropical bird screeched in a nearby tree. All the noises in this place were strange to Dog and he began to feel uncomfortable.

The woman who'd cut out the metal pebble from his back came to a stop beside him. Rebekka, he thought her name was. He'd heard someone call her that earlier. She smiled at him and instinctively he smiled back at her. "How are you doing sweetheart?" She asked.

"It's spooky here. I liked the beach better," He replied. Rebekka smiled at that.

"I liked the beach better too, but this place is still nice," She said. "And the bad people who hurt you won't be able to find you here."

Dog nodded his head at that. He really hoped they wouldn't find otherwise he'd get the worst punishment ever. "I don't like the dark," He said and lifted his hands together at chest level, making a small bowl with his hands. His tattoos pulsed for one or 2 heartbeats and a tiny globe of solid energy materialized in his palms. He spread his hands and the ball hovered in place, perfectly still. A second later a soft glow emanated from the sphere a quickly grew brighter. It didn't get as bright as the sun, but it clearly illuminated a roughly 120 foot radius. As Dog an Rebekka followed Matt to the hidden entrance of the Temple, the tiny ball gently floated and bobbed along behind the pair.

Rebekka smiled, intrigued by the gorgeous man-child's glowing tattoos, and sympathizing with his plight. "Thanks, honey. It was a bit gloomy here, but now we can see clearly. That's a handy nightlight." Her smile turned melancholy, and she took his hand, giving it a consoling squeeze. "But someday, you'll see, the dark, it isn't always bad. It can even be fun."

He smiled weakly, not really sure what she meant and watched Matt climb down the the wall of the entrance to the cavern below. Rebekka seemed hesitant about the entrance at first but before she could put voice to thought Dog picked her up stepped on to one of his light bridges and gently floated down into the temple.

"Oh!" Rebekka squealed, not unpleasantly, when Dog picked her up. "Why thank you honey! that was very gentlemanly of you," She said when they reached the bottom of the shaft.

The tour was brief but interesting and in short order Dog had picked out a room with Rebekka's help. It wasn't the largest but was still much bigger than his old room and they even said he could put whatever he wanted in it. Dog wondered briefly if he could have a TV like is old room so he could watch his cartoons.

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Jeremy went through the jungles, not phased by the heat, humidity of the jungles or the sounds in the environment around them. It was a fair trade for freedom, really. Besides, he never did get to travel to such unspoilt preserves before. Self-sufficiency was, as he considered the tunnel, surroundings, and limited furnishings, a virtue- if one made of necessity.

Thus he gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes to Mary in response to Travis' patch of whining. Then he noticed Lamia wasn't with them, but remembering her words earlier about the need to see the plains, perhaps she wasn't comfortable in the ruined temple yet. "Shall we choose rooms, and maybe furnish them with your help?" Jeremy inquired of the young mutant girl next to him now.

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Mary jumped slightly at Jeremy's words. It was becoming old hat now, how everything surprised her. Could you get used to being surprised? Was that even possible? Her brain felt tired of stretching so far, so fast. That had never happened before.

She gave him a by-now familiar wide-eyed look and nodded.


The inside of the temple was easier to take. Closed in again, walls and doors again. Not like the place she'd escaped from, but similar enough to be comforting. And it blocked out the 'noise' of all the new substances all chirping to make themselves known. Even the mineral of the walls was familiar. The scientists had given her a selection of types of rock to copy. This wasn't far different from some of them. The lights, while sparse and with exposed wiring, were familiar too.

But it was dark, and dirty in there. And a little chilly, compared to outside (which was admittedly very hot). Air didn't move very well.

Mary picked the first vacant room she found...the one closest to the way out. She expected to be going to and from her room a lot. After a lifetime cooped up, she didn't expect to want to stay in there any more than she had to.

Still. That didn't mean she couldn't dress it up a bit.

The bed, little more than a rude cot with some padding, vanished abruptly, and was promptly replaced by a replica of her bed from the lab. She liked that bed...it and she had had a great deal of time to accommodate one another. An end table and a little chest of drawers quickly followed, so she could keep a glass of water handy and keep her clothes put away. After a second, she made the glass of water too, and drank it, making a face at how warm it was.

The room would need more work, but she'd have time for that. Instead of getting into it now, she looked at Jeremy and said, "Which room are you going to take?"

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Travis and May were last in the line to go in, he looked back over his shoulder and saw Lamia and David talking, she appeared distressed. He shrugged, it could be anything, and he wasn't going to interrupt. The hole gaped going down before shooting out level toward the temple proper. Travis waited for the last climber to move, noting the simple mutant's disc of light, Damn, that is way cooler than a manhole cover. He shrugged off his scowl and stepped out into the abyss, plummeting the twenty odd feet to the tunnel floor. Earth and stone crunched under him as he landed, apparently unfazed by the drop, those who saw, once more noticed that his clothes were perfectly still, as though the air and gravity, and momentum could not touch them.

Travis looked up and easily lifted May down behind him. "Electricity," he said, "You all have a generator I take it?" She nodded in reply as they made their way deeper into the tunnel. As they passed Mary's room Travis brightened, "Oh hey that doesn't look so bad. Other than being a cave maybe .... oh." The next room in was unaltered, and Travis frowned. With a sigh the telekinetic shrugged, "Home sweet hole. I guess I should be used to this by now."

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Matt nodded. “Not a problem. Just got to move a bit more rock.” He went silent and focused, and both mutants felt a small tremor as Matt carefully drew rock from the earth. Unlike the devastating forces he used before, this time he pulled slowly and carefully, molding rather than ripping earth up. David had followed and he smiled as he watched his friend work with focused concentration.

The pillars were first, easing out of the earth like fast-growing trees. There were eight of them in a rough circle. When they reached eight feet in height, the pillars branched out and became supports for a domed roof that slowly arched together. When that was done, walls started to flow upward. They were octagonal as well, and attached to the main structure between pillars. When those walls angled into their domes, there were three octagons, two enclosed, one open.

It seemed like it might be done now, but Matt walked into the open dome and concentrated. The enclosed domes rose a foot off the ground, with a small step up before each of the doors that were forming in the wall. Windows opened in the enclosed domes, letting light and air inside. A fireplace grew in one of the pillars, making a small but serviceable place to cook. Benches grew from the earth and detached in the open area, and Matt had a seat as the creation continued.

Function completed, the focus turned to form. Beautiful carvings formed from the plain, dark stone, pulling forth small blemishes in the stone which created contrast, highlights and shadows. Flourishes of plants and animals grew to line the interiors of the dome; the pillars sprouted vines and flowers. The benches even developed scalloped edges as its legs formed decorative swells and lions’ feet.

Matt turned and looked at the two mutants. “Alright. What base furniture do you want in your rooms? We’ll get bedding and cushions for you but I’m happy to make stone frames for the beds and such.”

May took Travis’s hand. “Oh, the man is complaining about home furnishings? Well, come see this.” She pulled him down the hall to another room. There was a wooden door set into the stone; Travis realized that Matt much have installed it because the frame of the door was surrounded by the rock. May didn’t give him long to look; she tugged his arm until he followed her into the room.

It was cozy; the walls were painted and the floor carpeted; a dividing wall partially hid a bed from the entrance while a living room set gave it a feel of a real home, albeit one without a kitchen or attached bathroom. “This is my room. Better than the bare ones, right?” May was grinning up at him, clearly excited to be sharing this with him.

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"The one across the hall isn't occupied." Jeremy shrugged. "So I might as well take that one." He crossed over and looked into and over the accommodations. "Crude, but there's time to fix those things. Maybe I can get some help from Matt and make a fountain of chocolate or something."

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"Mooch?" she asked, a little confused crinkle appearing on her forehead.

Jeremy had to fight not to laugh. "It means to ask for something you haven't earned."

Mary brightened at the explanation, then grinned. "It's okay. It's easy. It feels...weird to do it so much. They never liked me doing it outside of the tests before."

Her expression firmed as she looked his room over. The existing furnishings, such as they were, evaporated as if they'd never been.

"Okay...what do you want? A bed, of course..." Another lab bed appeared. It was a slow, simple thing...a mattress on a box spring surrounded by a wooden frame painted white. Complete with sheets, blankets and two pillows. It was, of course, sized for someone Mary's size, several inches shorter than Jeremy at least.

As he looked the bed over, Mary was adding things to the room. Another squat chest of drawers. End table. Armoire. She tried adding carpet, but didn't know how to affix it to the stone, so she settled on a sort of 'throw rug' type thing made of the same material as the carpet.

"You might want to...move stuff around," she said as she worked. "I moved things around in my room all the time."

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He felt inexplicably irritated. Maybe it was just born from being misunderstood.

“I asked if I could crash on her couch,” he said. “I meant that literally.”

Matt squinted at him, as if trying to puzzle out whether or not this was either a set up for a terrible joke or logic of an alien and inexplicable nature. He gestured at the building. “I can make a room for you easy enough, you know.”

“I’m a guest. Guests sleep on the couch. You can make a couch, right?”

“If that’s what you want, that I can most certainly do! The second room's for you, so there's-"

"I don't want a room," Gold said, maybe a little more sharply than he meant to. After a moment he paused. "Uh, sorry. I just don't."

"Okay," Matt said. "Well, I'll just leave this room here, and you can maybe discover it when you explore one day. How's that?"

"That's fine. Put the couch in the living area, if there is one."

"So about this couch. Any special requirements?” Matt still regarded Gold speculatively, as if not quite sure what to make of this request but certain at least that he meant it.

“Well it’d be nice if my whole body fit on it. I’d like a slight raise at the foot end. Sleep better with my feet up a little. Not too much or it causes lower back pain though. Maybe a ten or twenty degree incline. Make sure the back faces the door and that it’s built sturdy. If someone comes through the door while I’m asleep I’d like to be able to use it as cover if needed. Make sure it doesn’t face any windows to keep angles of attack down to a minimum. If you’re building multiple rooms into the building I’d like easy access to two of them so I’ve got defensive and movement options.” Gold put a hand to his beardless chin, stroked it thoughtfully as he considered anything he might have missed. “No, that’s about it. Oh, no thick pillows. They fuck my neck up.”

Matt took it all in stride. “Okay. Anything else you’d like for – dare I say it – personal comfort?”

“A whetstone and a blunt knife of good stock. An Al Mar Shiva would be ideal if you can get it.” He gave a shrug at Matt’s puzzled look. “You asked. I answered. Oh, a full area layout and breakdown of the local flora and fauna would be nice too, as well as any information on how hard we are to track above ground. Jungle’s got all a man could ask for to satisfy his fitness needs, but I could do without getting shot by some laser death space satellite while out for my morning run. Bit of a pain, y’know?”

Matt smiled. “I can imagine. There’s not much risk of that, but I’ll look into it for you. As for the knife... that's pretty original. We can rustle up something I'm sure.”

Gold nodded, then put his hands on the branch below him and flipped nimbly down to the ground beside Lamia. “Thanks for that.”

“You can relax, you know. We know what we’re doing.”

“Never doubted it. I just like to be informed. So I know what I’m doing while you’re busy knowing what you’re doing. Or something.” He waved it off. Oh yeah, Drew. You’re a wordsmith of epic proportions. Hamlet quakes before you. Macbeth simulates diarrhea in shock.

He began to run a hand through his glittering hair. “Oh, something to tie my hair will be good, too. Don’t need it to be anything special. Loop of hemp would be okay, just not an elastic band if you can avoid it.”

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Stepping though the portal, Sonora began to walk around and explore, she didn't pick out a place for herself yet, she wanted to roam, to get a feel for things going on here rather then to settle in. Not that she was unwilling to settle in, it was better then she'd ever been sense she was little, free to make her own choices about what she was going to do, if she was going to go or stay, that sort of thing. Looking around a moment, she paused, then sat down and sighed, a few years ago she would have been in Mary's shoes, innocent and uncertain as to what was going on.. then that damn project.

Shortly before May and Travis moved on, she addressed a question to May "It's interesting what you do, slipping into the enemy's camp in order to feel out potential recruits, takes a good bit of courage to slip into places where you would be captured instantly if they discovered you... I don't think anyone else, except perhaps the telepath was as aware of you.. why pick me, other then sympathy to the mutant cause, what is it that you want me to do? The same sort of infiltration or something more?"

May paused in dragging Travis away. "Well," she said, a hint of awkwardness on her face, "we aren't sure anyone can inflitrate DEHA again. They're going to be hyper-cautious now. But there might be other situations where you'd be needed. In part though, there was the chance to grab you, to free another mutant. So we did."

With a nod to the other woman, as she and Travis continued on, Sonora turned to the room that she had been given. "Ainsi que ce soit" So be it, she told herself in her native tongue then considered the bare walls of the room.

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Rebekka studied the incandescently tattooed mutant settle in his room - the mixed expressions of being lost and hesitant eagerness on his face was similar to those of a child sitting in his new room after moving houses for the very first time. From down the hall, she could hear Jeremy and Mary talking about furnishings. Elegant lips curled in a wry smirk. Considering the state of the rooms she'd seen so far, Mary was going to be very popular, very quickly. She wasn't in a rush, and besides, Mary needed more exposure to provide the type of furnishings she'd like. Her smirk widened, imagining how Mary would react to such exposure...

"Sweetheart, one more thing," Rebekka said, giving him a small wave before she left. "Maybe think of a new name for yourself, hmm? What the men who kept you in a cage called you, that is no fit name for man."

Leaving him to ponder that, Rebekka continued down the hall, trailing her fingers lightly against the wall, the ground hard and cool and slightly damp. beneath her bare feet - though when she shifted, she could change her clothing to suit, there were limits. Her fingers skimmed the door Raven had disappeared behind with Travis as she went deeper, idly exploring the ruined temple.

As much as she lived to fuck, she loved accumulating knowledge and information as well, she was the Archive, after all... And who wouldn't, when they way she did it was so fun and pleasurable? She smiled wistfully, musing on the ancient temple. During one sojourn to seduce a researcher at CalTech, she hadn't limited herself to only one faculty member, or even one department.

She could look upon these ruins with the eye of an expert anthropologist and archeologist and make reasoned and educated guesses on how the builders and occupants had lived. But they were just that, guesses. How she wished she had one of them here right now to lay with, so know of their lives with a completeness no academic could could know.

She liked older men and women. What they lacked in physical appeal they more than made up with the appeal of their experiences. All knowledge is worth having. Sometimes she lamented all those already in their graves, their memories forever beyond her reach. What would it be like to know those who were only known by history? Those who were never even known to written or oral history?

Rebekka sighed and licked her lips as she wondered ever deeper into the temple. She had had a good fucking just a few hours ago, but just thinking on those she would never know intimately was making her hungry once more. Walking along, she paused to peek in various rooms out of curiosity, especially those that seemed to contain more then just the basest furnishings. Picking a specific room for herself wasn't a high priority - she intended to be sharing a bed with someone - anyone - else, most nights.

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Dog watched Rebekka leave the room helplessly. A new name? What was wrong with his name? It was the only thing he had so why should he throw it away? More and more Dog was confused by these people. Instead of thinking, Dog tried to make the room a little more comfortable. He dragged the small rolled up mat over to the stone bench of a bed and unrolled it. It smelled yucky and didn't look very clean but there was a thin blanket and small pillow wrapped up with it.

Dog yawned, not realizing until now how tired he really was. He curled up on the uncomfortable bed and covered himself with the shabby blanket. Before he fully settled, his tattoos flared subtly and a golden teddy bear, perfect in every detail, appeared in his arms. He cuddled the plushy construct and slowly drifted off to sleep.

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Chaos found a room with at least a flap to block the doorway. With her condition, privacy would be a good thing, though it also meant if the wrong person woke up, there'd be problems. She looked at the spartan furnishings, actually quite abit less than she'd been used to, but smiled. For now she was free.

She made a point to touch all the walls, and had a little smile on her face. "Even free, still hemmed in in some regard." She didn't hurt so much, but still part of her burned with Shame at how easily Fenris had nearly taken her down.

"A part of me is glad I didn't kill him and that he hurt her bad enough to let me out, but still it's damn annoying. I'm supposed to be better than this." She rubbed her shoulders, and raked her fingers through her long white hair. "Honestly, I had to fight Bessie for it, which is never fun.."

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Jeremy frowned slightly. "Could you make the bed longer by several inches? It's too small otherwise." "Oh!" Mary flushed and the bed seemed to flicker in and out of existence- lengthening as it did so, before it returned to solidity and the requested length. "Sorry," she said. "It's easier to copy." Jeremy smiled now. "Thanks, much better now. I might move things later. We'll see."

"It's funny." he mused also. "You've got a far wider ultimate range of things you can make- but you need to see and learn. Me, I'm stuck with just chemicals, but it's far more intuitive for me. It doesn't help that they trapped you in your room. But now don't you think it's a lot better to be free from here, and to fight to have that freedom?"

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Mary started to nod, then paused and thought about it.

"I'm definitely glad to be out," she said. "But...it would be nice if we didn't have to fight. I mean, don't you think? If the doctors would just...let us live normally, and we wouldn't have to hide?"

She looked over the inside of the little stone room. It was very dirty, she perceived. It was kind of starting to gross her out a little. Dirt was not something she'd had to deal with before.

"I mean, if we didn't have to hide, we could stay somewhere nicer, right?"

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Jeremy sighed. "By now, I have a strong distaste for humanity. However, I'm not for extermination and 'kill them all' unless it came down to a mutants vs. humanity worldwide situation. What I do see on the other hand, is that there isn't a choice about fighting, and there won't be- baring some miraculous changes. The DEHA and its national franchises have been doing this for a century or more, I doubt that their cover is blown will change their plans except to make them more secretive about it. For that matter- they probably can and will make the argument that they are acting with the best interest of the world in mind. And many will believe them. Don't underestimate the human capacity to hate what is different and other. Especially when so many mutants I know don't look human or near human at all. Like Aculeo, another mutant prisoner at Il Impianto. His name was Italian for Quill. Literal, since he had a body ridged with pointy spikes like a hedgehog. Or Rosa, she was a Florentine woman colored green and red like a flower, and plant-like skin."

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“There’s plenty of plant fiber around.” Matt’s smile was terse now. “See Mary for anything like cushions – she’s not on payroll through, so you might try a please.” Looking at Lamia, he asked, “Anything you want me to change or add?”

Below, in the tunnels of Home, David paused, considering his next step. There was so much to do, and May had disappeared with Travis. Matt was busy, Jack and Tyrone were dealing with equipment and that left him. This is something you should deal with personally anyway, he reminded himself.

Drawing a breath, David went looking. After a few wrong rooms, he found the right one. “Hello,” he said, looking at the white-haired woman. “Which one are you?”

“Grav” looked at him. “Chaos. I guess you’ve been briefed on us, then.”

David nodded. “Can I talk with you about this? We likely need to work something out.”

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Mary shrugs uncomfortably, not wanting to just outright deny Jeremy...but not really liking what he was saying either.

"It just seems like...if we all start fighting because we think they're going to attack us, we'll never know if they would have or not. I don't know."

With a deep breath she decided there wasn't much to talk about until she'd seen more, knew more. "Anyway...do you want anything else?"

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Sensual lips smirked, the exotic-looking woman amused by the dichotomy of centuries old ruins and roughly installed technology; bare lightbulbs and wires hanging from the ceiling and high on the walls by molded stone. Pass the living quarters - such as they were - Rebekka saw that the next few rooms appeared to be for storage. More simple, almost crude, furnishings - some already being affected by the moist humidity - crates of non-perishable foodstuffs, some camping equipment. They were in a tropical location, but a five-star resort this certainly was not. She chuckled with sultry mirth.

Looking around, she saw many more wires heading into one particular room, though not enough to proclaim it the location of their generator. There were voices issuing from the room in a low murmur, two men and a girl. Pursing her lips musingly, Rebekka nonchalantly glided through the doorway and into the room as if she had every right to be there, her bare feet quiet on the stone floor.

It appeared to some sort of strategy room, larger than the others, with several maps adorning the walls, some with colour-code pins stuck in them; more maps were layered over freestanding whiteboards. Around a large, plain table, sat John Howsted and Tyrone, The Knight and Singularity respectively, the young girl Ty-Ty bouncing around on the opposite side. Several more cables snaked along the floor and up to a number of laptops they were looking at.

Rebekka unabashedly walked around the room, eying the maps, then glancing over at what was on the monitors.

"Planning the next stage of the great revolution?" she inquired in smooth, rich tones, arching a brow. She looked young, beautiful beyond words, and stood, hip cocked, with the confidence of immortal youth, yet her lavender eyes were old and unfathomable with the weight of experience and knowledge. "Is there any way in which I may help you fine gentlemen? I have some small insight in a wide variety of matters."

She smiled with false modesty, eyes twinkling.

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Lamia bit back an amused smile at the golden-haired man's bluntness and quietly explored the now three-room cottage while the two men spoke. She still felt the twinges of panic as she eyed the stone walls, but being able to place her hands through the windows and step in and out of the doorways brought the fear down to manageable levels. After the negotiation and creation of the her 'guest's' couch was finished, Matt followed her into the room she had chosen for her sleeping quarters.

"Alright," he said, tugging on his cap and trying not to transfer his annoyance with Gold to her. "How about everything else? A bed, a table, some shelves? I can do anything you're not planning on moving around, unless you're really strong."

She considered that for a moment. "I picked up a large wagon-like weapon at the prison. The soldiers seemed frightened of that."

"Heh, okay. Well then, I guess whatever furniture you like," he grinned at her. "Though I'd still say chairs that other people can move around would be a good idea."

She returned the smile tentatively and then began describing what she would like in her home. My home. Mine, not anyone elses. Not a prison or a cage, but a place to live. The thoughts brightened her spirits considerably and her requests to Matt turned from mere utilitarian use to more decorative, personal requests. The man seemed to brighten himself as he stretched his ability and imagination in creating not only furniture, but beautiful, useful stone sculptures to fill the cottage. By the time the two were finished, the cottage was furnished with everything the inhabitants could need that could be worked from stone, from tables, beds, and built-in shelving over nearly every bit of wall space to a beautiful and functional hearth that would allow Lamia to cook meals and designed to dissipate the heat and smoke of the fires to keep the cottage cool and clear; he even added an old-style oven and grill outside, with the same internal tricks to keep the smoke from reaching the canopy as one dark line or cloud to give their position away. All of it was decorated with flourishes and frescoes that gave it a neo-classic Mediterranean feel; Matt even created outdoor benches, tables, and strategically placed statues that allowed Gold a playground for violence if anyone should ever attack the cottage.

It had taken more than half an hour, but the finished area looked more like a small villa somehow transported from the Italian coast than a thrown-together shelter in the middle of the Guatemalan rainforest. Lamia kissed Matt on the cheek once they were done and murmured, "It is beautiful, thank you."

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"Nah, I'm fine. You've been a great sport, Mary, thanks again." Jeremy's eyes traveled as he noticed Lamia wasn't inside still, and there was no sign of Gold. I hope nothing's wrong, cause that would be just great, great, great."I'm gonna take a walk outside, if anyone wonders where I'll be." he added, before walking back in the opposite direction of entry.

When he emerged, there was no sign of Gold, Lamia or Matt. A momentary pensive look emerged, and he took a circuit of the temple- but then was relieved by a peculiar sight.

Around the back, there seemed to be a villa of the Roman coastal province style seemingly appeared out of thin air. It reminded him of one of the locales for parties for the Prime Minister he'd once been expected to serve as drug and drink bar. The indulgent Berlusconi had a remarkable habit for assuming that he could enrich and lavish himself and company with the public dime- provided Italy had good leadership in turn. Although his definition of good had clearly been skewed of late...

Never mind that. Lamia was there outside with Matt (the probably architect) and Gold too. "I wondered where you three were." he called out. "Does Chez Maya not suit you two?"

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It was cozy; the walls were painted and the floor carpeted; a dividing wall partially hid a bed from the entrance while a living room set gave it a feel of a real home, albeit one without a kitchen or attached bathroom. “This is my room. Better than the bare ones, right?” May was grinning up at him, clearly excited to be sharing this with him.

"Better yes," Travis began slowly. He glanced over his shoulder and the door closed itself quietly, the lock engaging on its own. "The decor certainly is. Less Cave-man Chíc and more ... Design by Dumpster!"

"Ass," May punched him in the arm, which did nothing to him, and made he hand hurt a little, "I can't exactly stop by the local Ikea."

Travis grinned, "It's better than my room, or lack thereof." He looked around, "Hell, it's better than anything we had back in the day." The furnishings didn't match, but they were all clean and mostly whole, and in general they gave the room a homey feel. "It's great. You've been lucky, this is pretty great." He sounded a little sad, as he looked around.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. Travis' biostasis was a first of its kind and she was watching for side effects as much as anything else.

Travis shrugged, "Five years. Gone. And you have all this ... this life, without me. I don't know if I can fit into this all. I don't know these people ..."

"But you know me," May turned him toward her, "You trust me right?" Travis nodded. "Then trust me when I say you'll be fine. We need you. We still don't know what the stasis did to you but David thinks that your power could be so much more than you know." She put her arms around him, "Besides, I need you." Travis didn't say anything to that, he just put his arms around her and closed his eyes, his memory said it was only a few days since he did this last, but everything his eyes told him reminded him of all the time he;d lost.

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Gold listened to Lamia talking with Matt, and watched the two of them head off into her bedroom. He brushed a hand through his hair and looked around the then-bare entrance room. The angles were unusual. All of the facilities the DEHA moved him through were squares and rectangles.

He went over to the new-formed stone couch. It felt new under his touch. The couch was newborn, fresh, unstained by the touch of man or beast. Only a moment or two after he ran his finger across its back, insects from outside came buzzing in and began to explore it.

Well, there’s that torn, Gold thought. Now it’s part of the world. Now it begins to decay and fall apart like everything else.

He walked around in front of it while he listened to Matt shaping stone for Lamia. That man has a hell of a talent. Gold sat down on the couch.

It felt… weird. Not because it was made of stone. It felt hard because of that, but he wanted it to be hard. Hard surfaces were good for the back. A couple of sheets to stop it chafing would have it perfect. The incline on the foot end was just right, the couch’s spine was thick and tough. It was everything he wanted.

The fingers of his right hand flexed, clenched, relaxed. He stared down at it, thinking. The process continued. Flex, clench, relax. Flex, clench, relax.

A soft haze came over his vision, like someone sliding a screen down a millimeter behind his eyes. He saw two things at once. Blood dripped from his fingers, the thick gore from someone’s insides. But he also saw them as pale, white, and clean. Then he saw flowers in his palm, the heads violet and scarlet. He thought he heard screaming.

Gold looked up and around, unhurried, without alarm.

He had missed a little time. New things had sprung up all around him while he studied his hand. The cottage was complete, with statues and new rooms, furniture and even things outside. Lamia and Matt were out there. He figured they decided not to bother him while pottering around.

Gold rose and walked back outside. His golden eyes traced over all the new creations, taking in each one. He got a flash of working Matt into an armbar and smashing his skull on a stone statue. For a moment he could see the blood stain, dark and red, being drunk up as if the stone were a hungry Incan altar, freshly consecrated by this unexpected sacrifice. Then it was gone.

He leaned on the doorframe. “Nice,” he murmured, considering how easily he could turn this area into a deathzone. There were dozens of places to seek concealment, and all the surfaces were hard. That was good. It was sometimes hard to fight people in armour without a weapon. If something nice and hard like a stone statue was on hand, though…

Well, stone tended to win most collision-based arguments.

Gold knelt, spying a flower at his foot. He laughed and plucked it from the earth. Its head was violet. He closed his fist around the flower. Different futures. Not always fatal. Unless you’re a flower, I guess. He frowned, realizing that in fact he had just killed something. You know what, fuck my brain. Fuck it right to hell.

He spied Jeremy approaching. "I wondered where you three were." he called out. "Does Chez Maya not suit you two?"

Gold nodded through the doorway. “I have a couch up here. It’s all I need.” He looked over to Matt. "Though I'd still like that other thing when you can. Oh, and the couch is great. Thanks."

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Chaos looked at David with a slightly amused smile. "I imagine we do David, because of all of us in here, at least three will bolt the first chance they get."

She nodded. "If it gets to boring, even I might leave, as opposed to introducing my own brand of chaos into the mix. That's my little way of saying thanks for freeing me, as I doubt that would be particularly pleasant."

Her bright yellow eyes locked onto him, and behind them it seemed as if pure madness and chaos itself were looking out. The file entries on Chaos were so short, the times she'd emerged she'd been active only a few minutes at most, resulting in high collatteral damage, and some blue on blue. She could be directed in a roundabout fashion, but taking a direct hand generally didn't go over well.

What seemed different is that she was clearly calm, and in far less pain now. She seemed almost controlled. "What do you propose we do to keep me here, or at the least, one of the other more amenable to your cause personalities."

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Tyrone looked up and tilted his head to one side, giving her the “look”. Rebekka was well used to getting this look, and she didn’t deny that she enjoyed getting it from men. He studied her as she studied maps, and he wasn’t shy about leaving his eyes on her when she turned. Jack had watched her for a moment, but when she turned around, his attention was on the laptop again.

“Yep, this is the brain of the revolution.” Tyrone grinned and sat back, clasping his hands behind his head. The muscles of his arms bunched smoothly and from his smirk, he knew it looked good. “If you wanna help, sit down. We’ll brief ya.”

“We’re about to recall an operative who allowed himself to be captured.” Jack was looking at her again, his gray eyes unreadable. “On the way out, he’s liberating a program baby- That’s what we call a mutant born in the program who we believe is compliant because they don’t know any better. He’s getting her out. We’re planning who we’re going to ask to take part in the assault. We need to move before DEHA realizes how deep May’s infiltration was and change key details that we need for success.”

“Actually, I think that David’s going to ask you to be part of another operation.” Tyrone was still smirking at her. “I’m sure you’ve wanted to meet the President?”

In May’s room, she hugged her returned love to her and snuggled close. But reality was intruding and with a sigh, she stepped back a little. “Back on the beach, you asked about what David wanted. He… was asking where we stood. He and I. We’d… while you were gone…” Seeing the look on his face, she hastened to say, “When I saw you, touched you, I knew I didn’t love him. Travis, please… you’re the one I want. Just you.”

Ironically, the drama was lessened over in Grav’s chosen room, where David shifted to lean against the wall. “I’m not as worried about keeping you here as your safety. Annaliese, my interest in liberating you was not to bind or trick any of you to stay. I don’t want to control or manipulate you. If you want to fight for us, then you’re welcome to. If you stay, I ask only that you contribute to our supplies and defense. But you’re free to choose the path you want.”

On the surface, the gathered mutants admired Lamia’s house while Matt tried to get his blush under control. Gold’s thanks earned him a nod. In answer to Jeremy, Matt replied, “Lamia’s stress will be reduced by living up here. Not everyone of us can have the exact same needs, but we’re going to try to accommodate them as much as possible.”

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After Jeremy left, Mary hovered in the hallway between her room and his, not sure where to go or what to do. Finally she set off down the corridor deeper into the dimly lit stone building. The lights buzzed and flickered fitfully as she passed, and the air was cool but a bit stale this far in. She was surprised at how many dead things were in here; lining the walls, ceiling, floor. Dead plants, and things a lot like plants. Dead things she believed had been insects or similar critters. Organic residues from other things, now long gone. The room at the lab had been so clean. She missed that. The minerals were very beautiful, but literally caked with the blood and skeletons of the dead.

She wiped her hand on the hem of her shirt, recalling how she'd trailed her fingertips along the wall at first. Then she had to destroy that patch of shirt and replace it with a new piece.

Presently Mary realized she was hearing a noise. A loud thrumming rumble. It was tricky to follow; sound echoed oddly in the small enclosed passages, but she came upon the source at last. A machine was on the ground, making a low, loud rumble that she had to conjure little earplugs for to be comfortable with. Even then the sound transmitted through her bones. It stank too, an acrid smell that she pinched her nose shut to avoid. The machine was shaking slightly, though seemed fairly secure on a pair of low metal rails. Pieces of it spun around inside it, almost too fast to see. All around it were metal cannisters, many of which looked old and dented, with flaking red paint.

It tooka moment for her to realize what was happening. The cans were thin outer layers of iron mixed with carbon and magnesium and other trace materials...she'd seen it before, though this was a different mix. Steel, she reminded herself. Inside they had a fluid; a complex organic liquid made of hydrogen and carbon in dizzyingly complicated chains and rings. The machine itself...she couldn't see how it worked, but the chemical reaction was ongoing. The liquid oxidized inside it, releasing energy that made noise and raised temperature and shook the machine, and decomposing into smaller, simpler substances that were expelled as stinky, stinky gasses.

Then Mary noticed that a cable plugged into the machine. The same kind of heavy rubber and copper and plastic cable that ran between lights!

So this is the 'generator.' Matt mentioned it needs fuel, so that must be what these cans are.

Curious, she created a much larger steel cannister with an open top so she could look inside and see the fuel for herself. The resulting 'fuel can' came up to her stomach and was wide enough that she could have fit comfortably inside, albeit not with much arm room.

It was really breathtaking stuff. Hungry for oxygen, the surface where it touched air was constantly, slowly breaking down and releasing stinky byproducts. The rapid oxidation in the machine had to be catalyzed somehow...or perhaps there was an outside energy source to trigger a chain reaction?

Gripped with sudden need to know, Mary whirled away from the generator and ran back up the hall, looking for someone who lived here...Matt maybe, or someone else. She was having ideas for things she could do!

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Lamia nodded politely to Jeremy, not feeling the need to elaborate on Matt's explanation at the moment. She smiled at Matt's blush and touched his arm, "I would like to go hunting, if it will not put this place a risk. I feel the desire to make my own food, and perhaps for others as well? A meal is....well, it used to be," she corrected herself, remember the awkward disconnect with Travis in the savanna, "a way for allies to show their trust in one another and learn of each other."

She stretched her arms over her head, fingers laced together, and took a deep breath. "It has been some time since I have hunted, but I have not forgotten so much, I think, and the jungles remind me of my childhood." She waited for Matt's response, her body coiled with the desire for movement and the thrill of the chase.

"Sounds good to me," Matt said with a smile. "Just stay under the trees until dark, so that a hunter sat can't spot ya." He was doing his best to keep his eyes on her face, but his blush was several shades deeper now and showing no signs of fading.

She grinned in anticipation and nodded to the others around. "I don't mind company - if you can keep up!" she teased and then was gone, darting into the jungle with a true hunter's speed and silence. She caught the trail of a familiar prey almost immediately. At least some things do not change or disappear, even if it is but a deer. It had been circling around the temple, no doubt avoiding the noise and smells of predators; she caught sight of it as it picked its way down the hillside of the waterfall. She slowed her speed, taking a few moments to find a large rock - managing to find one with a sharp edge, even - while keeping most of her attention on the young white-tailed buck and any movement or wind that might give her away. She slowly crept towards her prey, her body tense with unspent energy as she waited for the perfect moment to spring upon the unsuspecting deer.


[Malachite] 3:00 pm: Lamia hunting:

Malachite *rolls* 1d20: 18+8: 26

[Malachite] 3:00 pm: witness, please?

[Kamiko] 3:00 pm: Mala: I witnessed the hell out of that and you should be ashamed!

Stealth -

[Malachite] 3:03 pm: Lamia being stealthy -

Malachite *rolls* 1d20: 9+8: 17

[Malachite] 3:04 pm: Witness, please?

[Jeremy] 3:04 pm: witness

The stealth is mostly for Gold or Jeremy, if they're going to follow her. She doesn't have any enhanced speed, but she's pretty damn good at blending into the jungle. Don't get caught up in the numbers if you've got stuff you want to post. Lamia will just get a bit put out if someone spooks her deer.

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Lamia's words seemed to place her in an odd cultural context, and combined with her admittedly powerfully good looks- intrigued Jeremy, and given that he wanted to learn more about her and trust was good to have- he smiled to Gold and Matt and then followed Lamia into the jungle.

Despite her natural agility and experience, Jeremy kept track of the elder mutant, and managed to not spook any wildlife, much less the deer. He kept back when he saw her creeping to take down the deer watching, rather than get her irate if he drove the animal away.

[Jeremy] 7:56 pm: Perception roll

[Malachite] 7:56 pm: I never saw a roll.

Jeremy *rolls* 1d20: 11+9: 20

[Malachite] 7:57 pm: Nice.

[Malachite] 7:57 pm: Better than Lamia's Stealth roll.

[Lobby]: Kamiko has entered at 7:57 pm

[Jeremy] 7:57 pm: Stealth roll

Jeremy *rolls* 1d20: 10+2: 12

[Jeremy] 7:58 pm: well, he's not trained in Stealth... so...

[Jeremy] 7:58 pm: hey Kami

[Malachite] 7:58 pm: She does look almost creepily in her element, running through the jungle like this, even

dressed in modern jeans and t-shirt.

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"David it's not that. I think it could be fun and productive to remain." Chaos leaned against the wall, holding his gaze. "I am not the dominant occupant though.It's actually pretty rare for me to get fresh air, Annalise herself is wholly devoted to Germany, they've completely brainwashed her and she is a soldier, a living weapon. If she's the one in control when we wake, the first thing she will do is leave, then she will report this location to the DEHA. They will respond with force, hell they might drop a bomb on this place to kill so many high profile mutants in a stroke."

She sighed. "I can and will pull my own weight here, but I wanted you to know the risk you took bringing me here. I would understand if you kill me now, though I won't go quietly. You have people you want to protect, and it's only fair in return for this time out, that I warn you."

For one of the more insane and unbalanced personalities she possessed, Chaos did have a thing for fairplay. Things were almost always 50/50 with her.

"If you've got someone who can help restrain the sides of me who'll run, so much the better. Perhaps it would be good to bring them in."


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Sonora considered the walls a moment, then chose to alter them using her illusion talent for a moment, to look like the way she wanted them, the walls shifting to somewhat different colors, the bedroom cut off from the main room to provide a bit of privacy, some paintings hung the wall, generally sedate quiet scenes, favoring things like sunsets, moonlight on water and fields of flowers.. she looked it over a moment, then smiled slightly, and suddenly it was all gone, just bare walls and a stone bed.

Moving out of the place she had chosen, she began to walk the grounds, and paused when hearing the words about recalling and operative, then stepped into the room, she wasn't a eye catcher like Rebekka, but she was good looking, and she looked around to the other mutants talking. "Anything an empathic illusionist can do to help your operation?"

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Rebekka strutted sinuously around to Tyrone's other side, slender fingers brushing a strong arm with a feather-light caress that could have almost been accidental, before sliding into the chair next to him, raking him with her canted, lavender eyes. She idly pulled her long, rich auburn hair over a shoulder as she crossed her legs, her bare foot teasing the length of Tyrone's calf. Her brief touches were... electrifying, and seemed to promise so much more.

"Who says I have not met him already?" Rebekka countered, full lips curving into her own enigmatic smirk as she arched a coy brow. Her expression was so bland and expectant that Tyrone was beginning to believe she had met him, until she chuckled softly. "To be fair, I have known several - I have been very popular with a number of the South African Presidents." She tilted her head coquettishly, her grin growing reminiscently mischievous. "And I have to admit, Clinton is a remarkable man."

Tyrone started with surprise, opening his mouth, then shut it without a word when Rebekka's eyes narrowed slightly in warning. She sighed, waving a hand in disgust. "Do not get me started on that fat sow Lewinsky - I was not her. I do believe the Americans did themselves a disservice impeaching a good president just for receiving some head." She shook her head at the nonsense. "Not even good head at that, though more than he got from his wife."

She smiled again, pursed lips flashing a hint of perfect teeth that silently promised that head from her was more than exceptional before leaning forward and to the side, to catch glimpse of Jack's computer. She considered what was depicted while reviewing what she knew - she had comprehensive knowledge of mutant policies on the African continent, with some from elsewhere, mostly due to having her 'services' loaned out to other DEHA franchises.

Rebekka gave Jack a professional, understanding nod, meeting his shuttered, grey eyes with eyes of lavender, curious and free of any pity for his condition. It was hardly a turn-off, when John Howsted had lived such a long life, and regardless of harsh circumstances, rare was the man or woman who had no desire to have someone to share their bed.

"I see, and I - we - certainly appreciate the damage May has done to her infiltration of the DEHA on our behalves. With access to the right person, I could gain a way in myself, I think, to share the effort or give May time to lay low for a while." Her nipples hardened at the thought of getting caught once more, and what her captors would do to her. "If there are two - or more - of us that alternate, it will be harder for them to determine a pattern. I have a fair accounting of the mutants held in Africa, at least what is known in case files."

When Sonora entered the room, Rebekka gave her a languid wave and a slow smile, eying her through heavy-lidded eyes. She hadn't lain with nearly as many women as she would have liked. "I'm sure there are any number of ways a stunning empath such as yourself could be of use in various operations."

Beneath the table, her toes worked their playful way up Tyrone's thigh, though besides a wicked grin - which might have been the natural appearance of her smile - Rebekka gave no sign of what she was doing.

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In May’s room, she hugged her returned love to her and snuggled close. But reality was intruding and with a sigh, she stepped back a little. “Back on the beach, you asked about what David wanted. He… was asking where we stood. He and I. We’d… while you were gone…” Seeing the look on his face, she hastened to say, “When I saw you, touched you, I knew I didn’t love him. Travis, please… you’re the one I want. Just you.”

Travis recoiled as though slapped, an hurt expression marring his features. May hastened to perform damage control, but even as she did an invisible grip pushed her away from him; tore her out of Travis' arms. "What?" Travis' voice was oddly calm, almost flat, as anger started to mix with the sorrow on his face.

"You were gone," she started. Shaking her head she changed course, and appearance, adopting May's "true" form for the first time since their reunion, "I didn't know you were still alive, the DEHA ..." The force holding her was irrefutable, and more than capable of crushing a human body, but it was the least of her worries, May was confident that Travis' rage would not target her directly. Instead she feared losing what she had only just recovered. "I ... I waited, I looked ... it was three years and more before we found that you were alive and in stasis. Travis, please ..."

Backing away from her he felt the wall against his back. Travis fought the mix of blinding rage and crippling betrayal he felt. You lost five years; she didn't. It may feel like it was only days ago, but you've been out of it for a while. That she slept with somebody else shouldn't have mattered, it had happened on rare occasions before, when a con required it. That didn't mean he liked it, but this felt like something else. "And now?" he asked, cutting off her plea.

"It's over!" she grabbed at the opportunity, "I told him that ... that you and I ... Travis I love you!"

Travis' fist pounded into the wall to no effect. He only barely felt the impacts, like a touch on the meat outside his fist, and the wall itself was more than match for his rather unimpressive physique. He didn't know what to feel; didn't even know what was fair to be feeling. He couldn't have skipped the past five years more effectively without a temporal manipulator and they tended to be kill on detection for the DEHA. Travis slid down the wall, a controlled fall really, and sat on the carpeted floor staring at nothing. May would have rushed to him but she still couldn't move, perhaps Ronnie could have muscled through his grip.

"Travis?" she asked tentatively, breaking the silence.

"What?" he still didn't look at her, he merely sat in a crumpled heap on the floor, trying to sort his feelings.

"I'm so sorry this happened. I wish ..." May's face was despair and regret, there would be no doubt in any observer that she was sorry.

"Why didn't you stop it then?" he finally looked up and May noted that tears were forming in his red eyes. "Why?"

"Because I'd come to care for David, too." She felt his anguish like he was squeezing her heart, "I focused on getting you out, on getting all of you out. I was going to work it out later, afterward. It was too much." She wished she could go to him, "But when you kissed me, there was no question."

The force that held May dissolved. "You're sure?" She nodded as she rushed to him, falling to the floor next to him. Travis had no idea what to say next, so he didn't say anything, he just accepted her into his arms and tried to understand it all. Finally he said quietly, "I don't want to lose you again. Not ever." He put his head to hers, "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I'll never let them take us apart. I hate them for doing this to us." To me.

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Gold watched Lamia tear off into the jungle, and Jeremy after her. For a moment he considered following them. His eyes were sharp, well-suited to hunting in jungle conditions. But he wasn’t in the mood.

He peeled off the doorway and slid back inside the room, quiet as a cat, then went and sat back down on his new couch. There he unfurled his fingers and studied the flower in his palm, thinking unclear thoughts.

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Aware that one of the men had followed her, but unconcered with which one it was so long as they didn't startle dinner, Lamia moved carefully closer and close to the white-tailed buck. It wasn't young, but it lacked the truly huge crown of horns to mark it as a powerful elder, which was her preferred prey among deer. Less dangerous and she wouldn't accidentally be taking down a pregnant doe; that was wasteful and doing it overmuch could thin a herd to extinction if hunter's were careless. The old memories murmured in her mind in dozens of languages; the lessons, the victories, the defeats, all of them were with her when she sprung on the deer.

She had intended to catch it around the neck and hold on long enough to use the rock to bash in the skull or cut the throat, whichever was most handy, but she'd misjudged the changes in her after so long in cells and cages. The deer's neck snapped instantly and it crumpled to the ground beneath her, his black eyes glossy with death before his head hit the ground. She stepped back, startled, then remembered herself and knelt next to the animal, saying something in low, reverent tones that sent chills down Jeremy's arms even though he had no idea what the words actually meant.

She moved to roll the animal over, testing its weight, then blinked again and scooped her arms under the cooling body, effortlessly lifting the two-to-three hundred pound animal in her arms and balancing the bulk of the weight against her chest. She picked her way back up the hill, slower and far noisier than her excited descent, but quite pleased with herself. She made a mental note of the fruits and nuts and other edibles that she could pick out from her path, putting together several possible recipes for the meal and flavors to rub into the leftover meat that would be smoked to preserve it.

She was humming happily to herself by the time she'd made her way back to her new home. She laid the deer on the ground and went inside to retrieve the stone cook-ware Matt had made for her; the knives wouldn't be as sharp as metal, but they'd work fine for now and there were all number and sizes of bowls to temporarily store the different parts of the deer until everything was ready to be cooked. She found a suitable tree to hang the deer by, and more vine than she could ever imagine needing hanging conveniently close by, she settled into to weaving the green strands into a usable rope and for conversation from those that wanted to pass the time with her.

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