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Aberrant: Cognizant Chimera - Cognizant Chimera - The Early Years...


malkboy

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William smiles brightly at that knowledge.

"Excellent! Now...lets eat! Im hungry!"

He stands, takes off his business jacket, then rolls his sleves. He looks over everyone and smiles again. A feeling of warmth, and happiness spreads over the room. He looks down at Stelle, gives her a rogueish smile.

"Wanna walk me to the table?"

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William smiles brightly at that knowledge.

"Excellent!  Now...lets eat!  Im hungry!"

He stands, takes off his business jacket, then rolls his sleves.  He looks over everyone and smiles again.  A feeling of warmth, and happiness spreads over the room.  He looks down at Stelle, gives her a rogueish smile.

"Wanna walk me to the table?"

Stelle looks the handsome uber-politico up and down, then wrinkles her nose.

To be honest, I don't know what to make of you - there's no denying you're easy on the eyes, and apparently a nice fellow, but can one ever truly trust a politician, and an enhanced one to boot? Does the fact that I want to snuggle up and have your babies make you a good person, or merely an influential one? ::wink

After a moment, she laughs and throws up her hands.

Ah, what's an innocent bagel between strangers! Let's eat.

She joins William at the table, sneaking sidelong glances at him as she fills up a plate.

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As Dr. Hughes rises to grab a plate her phone chimes. Grimacing slightly she opens as she moves towards the back of the room.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Hughes?"

"Yes, this is she." Mandy blushes and straightens, dropping her voice in a very professional tone as the voice of her boss grates along her nerves.

"We're sorry to have to inform you, that due to your affiliations, the Aeon Society has decided to discontinue your employ."

"What?!? How dare you..." Shaken, and furious, Mandy snaps her phone closed as a garbled apology starts through the ear piece.

Struggling with tears, Mandy turns sharply on her heel and walks out the door. Her voice whispers an apology as she ducks through the door before rushing for the elevator.

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  • 2 weeks later...

From her spot at the table, Stelle sees Mandy's sudden departure. She rises halfway out of her seat to follow her, but decides to let her go; after all, she might need a little time alone. She then turns her attention to Victor and his notebook.

Ooh, I'll write some stuff down!

While she munches on her bagel and shmear, she sends a tendril over to fetch the notebook as another slips into her purse for a pen; soon she's jotting down notes like a bizarre stenographer.

Okay. Name: Estelle de Havilland. Powers: Living hair, which allows me to directly access computers. Hair can also lift several hundred pounds and extend my normal senses.

She strokes her chin with the pen.

Um, weaknesses. Let me think...well, I guess glowing hair would be a weakness, if I was hiding in the dark or something. Other than that, the usual: bad boys, shoes, ice cream with nuts... ::tongue

Stelle chuckles to herself, then returns to her task.

Skills - oh, I've got lots of skills. Research, computer programming, public speaking. Uh, read and write Russian....making small talk with boring people at parties...

She finally sighs and drops the notebook on the table.

Alright, so I'm not as cool as I thought I was ::rolleyes Who's next for this thing?

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Xander watches as Mandy runs out of the room, for a moment starting to head after her before stopping behind Estelle as she writes in the notebook. Waiting until she finishes writing, he takes the notebook from her and turns the page. His hand moves quickly across a new page as he fills in the data for himself.

Name: Xander Fox

Powers: Control over localized temperature, Stronger than average

Weaknesses: Strange gas-like odor when actively using powers

Skills: Financing, Planning, anything Business

When he finishes writing, Xander tosses the notebook in the center of the table and turns for the door. "Let me go retrieve the doctor and we'll really get moving. I think once everyone has contributed the information they feel comfortable with, we'll progress into making actual decisions..."

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Matt says,

“I’ll go next.

Matt writes while talking out loud.

Name: Matt… uh… Chang. I don’t know, maybe I should be calling myself “Lightning” or something.”

Powers: Control over electricity. Able to restructure matter. Able to absorb energy from others.

Weaknesses: None I’m going to admit too… although I run out of gas quicker than most of you. I’ll put Tires easily.

,,

Skills: Electrician, Electrical Engineer.

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Stretching, Brandt seems almost bored...then the notebook pages flutter suddenly.

Written in a polished, well-practiced hand are two words in large letters:

DAMN FAST

Grinning, the schoolteacher sips a cup of coffee he wasn't holding a second ago.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Xander comes back into the conference room, his head shaking back and forth from frustration. When he gets to the head of the conference table, he speaks clearly, "Clearly the repercussions of our meeting are starting to be felt by some of our members before others. The good doctor will be back when she is ready, but we should continue to progress until then. The groundwork for what we want to do with our futures is all that remains to discuss. We will utilize the funding that I can provide, and do whatever it is that we want. Be it a watchdog, a vigilante group, or even just a group that can compare notes on what's happening in our lives. But whatever we do, I think after watching what Aeon did to the doctor, we should do it expediently and get a foothold in society. Since I've provided poor direction up to this point, let's get this on the table now for a vote. Who here wants to form a group that will ultimately keep whatever City we happen to choose safe? In other words, go the vigilante route?"

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Xander comes back into the conference room, his head shaking back and forth from frustration.  When he gets to the head of the conference table, he speaks clearly, "Clearly the repercussions of our meeting are starting to be felt by some of our members before others.  The good doctor will be back when she is ready, but we should continue to progress until then.  The groundwork for what we want to do with our futures is all that remains to discuss.  We will utilize the funding that I can provide, and do whatever it is that we want.  Be it a watchdog, a vigilante group, or even just a group that can compare notes on what's happening in our lives.  But whatever we do, I think after watching what Aeon did to the doctor, we should do it expediently and get a foothold in society.  Since I've provided poor direction up to this point, let's get this on the table now for a vote.  Who here wants to form a group that will ultimately keep whatever City we happen to choose safe? In other words, go the vigilante route?"

Stelle sits munching on her third bagel (where does this food go?), her eyes out of focus, clearly deep in thought. At last, she daintily wipes her mouth with a napkin and rests her chin on her small fists.

Okay, so we're thinking of forming our own little Justice League - fair enough. If we do go this route, I think we should aim higher, at least long-term - our gifts might be wasted at the local level, or at least not put to the fullest, best possible use.

As she gets more animated, her hair starts to become part of her body language, gesturing, pointing, etc.

I do think that Michael is right about scale - if we just beat up 'bad guys' that doesn't do too much, for us or the rest of the world. I think if we really want to make the world a better place, we'll need some sort of official recognition, so we don't getting into petty turf wars with the police and government. Crime fighting is a valid place to start, but should only be one part of an ongoing effort - maybe literacy programs, fund-raising, that sort of thing. Getting our charismatic friend elected could be one part of that, especially if we stay linked together by common ideology - good press from both sides, each reinforcing the other.

The blonde heiress shrugs.

As to where we start, there's a number of factors to consider - my base of contacts and influence is centered on New York and the East Coast, but they're still only a phone call away. New York has a strong media presence, both in the US and abroad, but we'd also have to work hard to stand out there, super-powers or no - the Big Apple has seen it all, or at least wants everyone to think so. Part of the mystique, and all that. ::wink

Stelle stands and walk over to the window, her hair spreading out to indicate the skyline.

Chicago might work, too, if people are willing to relocate - I'd be willing to live and work here. Great food, good music, and we could be bigger fish in a somewhat smaller pond. The West Coast could work, too, as long as I can avoid my baby sisters in LA. ::rolleyes

She turns back to the others.

Those are my thoughts, at least for now.

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William looks over at Ms. Hair.

"If we *do* go this route...I will be more then happy to represent you guys. If I can meet with the right people, I guess I can see just how likable I am and get us a military status so that we can do what we need to do...and do it totally legit. New York would be a wonderful place to have the HQ as well. It would make us seem more 'All-american'. Mabey we can do some recruiting, and make more teams as well. We can get full US support if we had 4 teams."

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The door opens slowly as Mandy walks in, composed if a bit reddened. "That sounds enterprising." Grabbing a seat, she folds her hands in front of herself on the table and stares grim faced at the center. "Count me in for whatever, Xander. Any apprehension I had was seen to."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Setting down his coffee as the conversation begins in earnest, Brandt leans against the wall, fingers steepled under his chin. He listens quietly, showing no real expression as Stelle and William relate their thoughts.

Eyeing Mandy briefly as she comes back into the room, he ruffles his hair with both hands, seeming uncertain.

"Hey, I'm all for saving the world here. But, " and looks at William, "as useful as it might be, I don't think leaping into becoming a paramilitary supercrew is the best way to start. Sorry."

He starts to pace, very slowly. "Official recognition is a good idea though. Maybe something like a volunteer, non-profit thing. Like a charity or something. And instead of starting out thumping bad guys, maybe we can get a foothold by just offering our help to official public services already there."

He looks up from the carpet under his feet and stops, glancing at his coffee across the room. His image blurs for a second, then he's still again; holding his cup and stirring the coffee in it with a tiny plastic straw.

"We can help the police by just patrolling, and calling in crimes in progress. Maybe Willie can use his charm to setup a hotline for us, or get some Good Samaritan laws passed so we can actually save people on our own without being labeled vigilantes. We can help emergency crews too; firefighters and EMTs could really use our help in a lot of situations. And as boring as it might sound, public works crews might like some help with construction projects or traffic problems."

He looks around the room at everyone, blinking in surprise at his little speech. "Um. I'd also like to make sure that we stay an independent entity, and away from government control. That'll be more difficult, but I think we'll be better off in the long run."

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  • 1 month later...

Xander listens to each person’s statements, letting anyone who wants to speak to have an opportunity to chime in on what it is that they want the group to do. He smiles as Mandy comes back in and nods to her when she says that she is in for anything.

"From the suggestions on the table then, what I propose is that we locate the offices in a major metropolitan area. Rather than crime fighting per se, we use our talents to improve the standard of living in our surrounding community in whatever manner that we are able, without directly forming any sort of co-operative that can be construed as a militia or paramilitary force."

Xander glances towards Brandt as he continues his statements.

"Whatever our representatives do in their own time, however, is ultimately the responsibility of the individual and will have no governance by our group. Which allows the personal freedom to those who do want to go 'fight crime' in the neighborhoods."

Taking a deep breath, Xander looks out the window and then back at the group as he says, "And in order to stay free of governmental controls what I will do is form a non profit company under the umbrella of Fox Industries. Which means, that there will someone in charge and responsible for the organization, as well as getting funding from third parties. Because while I can toss money into this for awhile, I'm not going to be able to fund every change we want to make in the world."

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...

Mike (or 'Mikes') appear to have been calmed by the various suggestions & compromises offered &, for the last few minutes, have been doodling in the notepads. They toss the pads back on the table & head off to get food: simple cartoon drawings of several bat-winged men, one of them holding a car above his head, can be seen in best 'bored while in class' ball-point doodle style. The only word on the pads is 'Duh!'. ::tongue ::wink

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Mandy nods along to Xander's speech, but doesn't add anything to the conversation. She smiles at Brandt's remark, then looks to Xander. "Is there anything else? We all probably have personal matters we need to see to if our base is going to be New York."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Xander smiles, 'Nothing else today. I'll make arrangements for a place in New York and we can go from there."

Xander reaches into his pocket and pulls out the rest of the envelopes from his inside pocket. He tosses them onto the table and heads for the door, 'Try not to be too hard to find. I'll get in touch with everyone in the next week or so."

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'Try not to be too hard to find. I'll get in touch with everyone in the next week or so.'

The spare Mr Warlock puts one hand on the original's shoulder before vanishing in a flash of green flame. The remaining Michael takes his designated envelope, which he folds & stuffs into the back pocket of his leather trousers, then stretches - athletic, tattooed & pierced, body & arms as well as his large leathery wings.

Casting one last glance around the room, his glowing green eyes lingering for just a moment on each of the women present, he steps to the nearest window, opens it, & leaps out - all without another word. It's hard to tell whether he's decided to attend the next 'group' meeting or not... most likely, even Michael himself doesn't yet know...

Unfurling his majestic dark wings, Michael Warlock catches the wind & glides away from the hotel. Mind going over the meeting again & again, he circles above the streets & buildings of the city, almost absent-mindedly.

Finally landing on the edge of the empty roof of one of the taller buildings in the area, he crouches down, wings folded around him, pulls out his cell phone & hits the speed dial. It rings a few times before being answered...

'Hiya Kat...

How was class?..

Yeah, I guess...

Yeah, they were there...

No...

No they didn't listen...

Well, sort of...

No, they didn't reject everything either...

I really don't know...

Yeah, I got the money...

Yeah - in New York this time...

Don't know when - guy said something about "the next week or so"...

Maybe...

It's just - they're all so "vanilla", you know?..

Yeah - even with the "powers" & stuff - it's like they want to be normal people with an edge to make life easier, rather than to be something fantastic & new. They all want to play by the rules, to not rock the boat, to do things the way they've always been done...

Yeah - that's what I said too...

Yeah, it sickens me as well - but what can you do? We're fighting the system, & these guys are already part of it - they like being part of it - they're scared to take a chance, to try something new...

True - I thought that as well: if not me, then who? If I give up on these guys, then we really have lost, haven't we? It's just - they want to be the Justice League for Pete's sake - & that's after I said my piece. If these guys can do half of what they said they could do, then we could change the world - & I'm betting they can do more than they think...

You're right - I guess vanilla people aren't used to pushing themselves like we are...

Hah! Maybe, but I'm not sure if they want to be taught!..

Not yet, no. I guess I have to make a choice - do I go it alone, or do I become "social conscience man", founding member of the "All Star Spanking Squad" or whatever they end up calling us...

Hah! Okay - maybe I would like a group named that - that wasn't the point!..

Yeah, okay - good luck on tomorrow's test. Spank Syn for me, okay? Love you.'

Michael ended the call, a smile on his lips. Talking to Kat always helped - let him know he wasn't alone in the dark, that there were others in there with him. He may be pissing in the wind with these 'super' people, but she was right - he couldn't just give up after just one meeting. Besides... there had been a couple of interesting prospects in the room...

Standing up on the edge of the building Michael looked down at the phone still in his hand. For one crazy moment he pondered calling his folks - he wasn't sure why. Maybe to tell them he'd met some freaks who were as conservative as they were? Maybe to revel in his newly acquired level of personal weirdness - to rub it in their faces? No... it was probably just nothing... & anyway - he didn't even have their number these days.

Putting the phone away Michael shook his head; a meeting with the strangest people the planet had ever seen, & it reminded him of his parents! Maybe they were all right all along - we was a few screws short of picnic.

Taking to the air again Michael Warlock turned towards the airport & home. Some time with Kat & Syn would help... Help him to relax & think things over... Still, he wasn't looking forward to suffering in those wing-unfriendly airline seats again...

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Back on one of her family's jets, Estelle sinks into her seat deep in thought, rubbing her lower lip with her glass; she barely tastes the rum and Coke as she takes another sip.

*So much to process. Is Mike right? Are the rest of us hopeless tools of the machine, or are his radical ideals going to set the world on fire?*

She stares out the window at the clouds below, perhaps a metaphor for her distance from the realities of the modern life. She sets down her drink, rubs her face and sighs; at least she would be negotiating from a position of strength in New York. There was something to be said for home field advantage.

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