Sober Johnny had metabolized the alcohol and now had a bad headache.  Sober Johnny rested his head in his hands for the thirty seconds it would take to recover from the hangover.  "She left T2M before my time.  She's a looker, but not one of those head-turnin' ladies whose eruptions brought out all their issues.  Truth be told, I don't know.  But she keeps to herself, and doesn't have much time for guys like you or me.  What the hell is a Molly, anyway.  The hell are you from?"

"All birds have time for me boyo, it's part o' me Irish charms." He looked around and noticed the stairs to the second floor,"What's up there? Ah've seen more'n a few of us scarper up there."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:52, Fri 20 Sept 2013.

”I have to agree with Raoul.  I thought the whole point of the three paths was to pursue Teras in whatever way you feel suits you.  Separate but equal.”  She would have guessed Marvel for Narcosis and Portent for Raoul as well, but now that they had revealed it, she could see the little hints.  Narcosis’s dismissal of baselines, for instance.  ”Freedom can have different definitions, depending on the person.  To Portents like Sin-Eater, freedom may mean freedom from confusion as she pursues total understanding.  To Marvels, freedom of expression, whatever that expression may be.  To suggest that we are not free because we are not also Monsters is to say that Teras is limited in its scope.  I think we can all agree otherwise.”  She couldn’t speak to being comfortable as a nova.  It was only recently that she started feeling like she fit her own skin, after all.  But this was a different kind of discussion.  Having a little more background from Imp and the others helped, but she had to admit that they were such a high level that perhaps the little things like this were being missed.

”In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m a Marvel,” she added, taking another sip of her wine.  Best to head that off at the beginning, otherwise they might talk in circles all night.  She adjusted her position in the chair, sitting up a little straighter.  She was bracing herself for whatever probing question they might ask.  ”Your turn to ask me a question.”

"Hmm, well...I did have that very important hair cut scheduled...then tea with the emperor.  Oh wait, no. There is nothing, my shit included, that would make me bail on you.   You need to talk, I am all over that.  You've certainly earned some venting time, and as many beers as you can keep down."

She gave the man a futile shove toward the other side of the car.  She wasn't sure the shocks would hold, and was curious to find out.

"Let's go find somewhere awesome to hang out. You want casa de la Flare, or a convenient desert?"

She gave a goofy grin.  Comstock certainly looked like a man who could use a friend, and blow off some steam.  She could certainly help on both counts.  His beer comment finally clicked, and she enjoyed berating him a bit as she peeled out.

"The hell man!  All our time being the 'good guys' and you break into my car!  Lo, how the mighty have fallen."

"Metal locks," he explained bluntly.  "No need to break in.  Just had to ask.  Anywhere you want to drive is fine."

It used to be that Dillon could rein in his powers and assume a very normal and baseline sort of density, 230 lbs or so.  But the car sagged noticeably on Dillon's side when he got in, and it took him a few minutes to correct the problem.  He suspended the previous line of conversation, waiting for when they weren't driving.  "I've got all my quantum back.  My node's stopped aching.  Saw Dr. Jensen the other day.  Saul.  Worked with us off and on in the War on Drugs, but he was a real regular back in the Equatorials.  Clean bill of health."  That wasn't exactly true, but wasn't exactly a lie.

He kept a hand over his face as they drove.  Just in case any of the municipal security cameras, tourists or paparazzi happened to get a good angle on him.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Tue 24 Sept 2013.

The Archon

"Raoul's private lounge.  Novas only.  For quiet, intellectual discussion.  And Teragen planning."  Afterburner smiled.  "Half the reason I stick around here.  So I can see who goes in and who goes out.  They could portal in, sure.  But they recruit from around these parts."

"Teragen, huh? Well ain't that a thing? Ain't they that bunch tha' gave a shite kickin to Bahrain? Where's the profit in'at, boyo? he looked honestly perplexed. "Feckin dingleberries, so let's give this place a laugh and go prove 'ah'm faster'n you."

The Archon

"Mp3's are in, broken records are out."  Wheelman was getting under Afterburner's skin.  Flare ignoring his texts was the part that really smarted though.  They were supposed to be a team, weren't they?

"Alright, I done waitin' so the track's out.  We're heading for the stratosphere.  You said you flew, right?"  Johnny emptied another glass in a hurry, going from sober to glassy-eyed in seconds, and stood up.  "Might as well kick your ass right and proper and then do a rematch on the ground so your home appliances don't desert you.  That's what you're into, right?  I don't want to judge or nothin'."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:31, Tue 24 Sept 2013.

The Archon

"Why university?"  Narcosis leaned back in her chair.  "It obviously didn't work out for you, or you'd still be at it.  There's a few of us in academia now, after all.  But you grew wings, and if I'm remembering right went back to study biology or something."  She raised an eyebrow, but there didn't seem to be any deception or ulterior motive.  Narcosis had just never had any higher schooling, and couldn't fathom Gale's motives.

Paidrag laughed a full bodied genuine laugh, " Nah, boyo, never gecher flute near nothin' with spinnin blades, i's right daft. Ah'm more of a Harley man, meself, th' vibrations are right attention gettin'.
Ah do love t'fly, though t'be parfectly hones' whi'cha I generate a wee bit o plasma when ah do, much like jus' after mah firs' meal in Texas.
Le's do this!" He smacked one closed hand into his other palm and headed for the door after quickly informing the ladies that he'd be back, much faster than "Tha 'Merican fellah".

"It was ornithology, actually," Gale said, adjusting her position.  "I was 16, had no idea what to do with myself once I was on my own, didn't want to join Pax's special group.  At the time, I just wanted to be normal.  So what did normal teenagers do?  They go to college, get a degree."  She gave a shrug.  That obviously wasn't where she was anymore.

"I thought studying birds would give me some sort of insight into my nature.  It turned out to be more complicated than that.  I was going to stay and get a graduate degree too, but the environment became...less welcoming."  A pause as she drained her glass.  "People like to give me mutilated dead birds as presents."

She set the glass to the side.  "Told you there wasn't much more to me than the stories say.  But what about you?  You don't seem to like baselines much, so why become a pop idol?  You're basically just catering to the whim of the masses, right?"

The Archon

"I don't cater.  They follow."  She smiled.  "I was Mal's idea, really.  They all see in me exactly what they want to see, so it's easy to make them beg, make them cry, and make them give up all their money."  Another glass of wine followed.  "Most of us aren't born into wealth like Raoul," Raoul nodded to acknowledge the point, "and the rest of us didn't come through the Upie marketing machine.  But people want gods and heroes.  And werewolves and sex-fiends and outlaws and weirdos and a whole spectrum.  Mal showed me the ropes, found me some money to start, and now I want for nothing.  And I can provide for all my Teragen brothers and sisters."

"Hmph!"  Raoul chuckled.  "From my perspective, the adoration of the people has somewhat more meaning than mere sustenance.  I have run with the cheetah upon the Serengeti.  I have sailed the Atlantic with a daring crew.  And I have spoken, often and at length.  All the noble virtues of mankind are ascribed to me, and a few less than charitable qualities.  Were I vain, as Impetus, they might enthrone me.  But I did not become an object of their interest and adoration just to be trapped by their worship.  I am becoming, and their adoration and their hatred merely fuels it."

"Is that why you're suspicious of Mal?"

"I speak to him as a man of reason.  When he returns, I'll do the same." Raoul dissembled.

Narcosis smiled.  "Gale, what do you think of Divis Mal?  You've met him at least once."

Above Las Vegas

Johnny became sober - or at least publically sober - awfully quickly, and once outside the Archon took to the sky.  With the OpNet at his disposal and some of Binary's software helping to power his gadgets, he first placed a call to the FAA to let them know he'd be operating in the sky over Las Vegas, then put a call to his favorite OpNet Blogger to give her the scoop, then put a call over to the T2M:A base to let them know he'd be shooting through the sky.

"Hey Elite!" he shouted over to Paidrag, using the radio if the other man could hear it, a speaker if not.  "We need the altitude so we won't bust the windows with the sonic boom!  You know, the one I make when I leave your rusting carcass in my wake!"  Quantum fire made the machine work, not gasoline or solid fuel rocketry.  But Johnny still checked all his equipment, data flooding his heads-up display as the onboard computer did its work.  "You ready to make history?  I'm thinking I'll break Solitaire's record today."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:19, Fri 27 Sept 2013.

"No, I didn't actually.  The one time I was anywhere near him was Columbia, and I was out of commission while he was leading the charge.  From what I saw that day, he seems larger than life, but having never personally met him..."  She shrugged again.  Honestly, she wasn't sure what to make of the guy.  But all the Terats seemed to revere him.  "All of you seem to think highly of him."

The Archon

"Mal is ... the best of us."  Sin Eater pulled herself from her reverie and fascination.  "He precedes us.  He won't say how old, but it could be quite a few years.  As a result, he is the most powerful nova on Earth."

"There could be others," Raoul noted dryly.

"But it is unlikely.  And while we struggle with the problems of quantum taint, he has few aberrations."

"Gale, he's like ... he's something else.  Just power.  Like a god or an angel.  And god, he's got this great jawline."  Narcosis' face scrunched into a smile, as though she'd tasted something sweet and delicious.

"He's earned our respect.  Early on, the teragen was a philosophical club.  A lot of our early meetings were just social calls right here, in this lounge."  Raoul smiled.  "It was I, Pedro, Gravitas, Impetus, the Solitaire, Caroline, Jeremiah, and Geryon.  When Mal joined our ranks, it elevated everything.  We became less timid, and a philosophy became the Movement."

"Before my time, I am afraid."  Sin Eater helped herself to more wine.  "But there are very few people in the world who can discuss quantum phenomena and science at his level."

Paidrag nodded, grinning hugely.  "Time t'make s'me history indeed, the Famous Johnny Afterburner, curled up l'il girl like in a corner, sobbin' f'r his mamma's teat."  Once outside he shifted.  Flesh and fabric transmogrifying into metal.  No sooner had he achieved his robot-like form then he began shifting further, legs fusing together with audible clicks and snaps, arms folded in and flattened, becoming wings.  Soon the robot had become a scale replica of an F-14 Tomcat with DeVries and Irish logos.  He blasted off into the sky, "Fine night fer flyin', boyo," came his voice over the radio.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
burning 1 sux for the change to the plane, 5 sux for hypermove: flight, 1 sux for mega dex 2

---

The Archon

Gale gave a non-committal shrug.  It appeared that Mal's driving personality left quite the impression.  But she hadn't experienced it herself, and she wasn't sure she trust a guy who could claim to be the leader for all Nova-kind.  But she'd read the Null Manifesto, and some of the ideas in there did make sense.  Why else would she be here?

"I guess we'll just see what happens when I get to meet him."

The Archon

Raoul, Sin Eater, and Narcosis talked and drank and laughed well into the morning, leaving Gale feeling welcome to return if she so desired.  Gale's answers to Narcosis' questions did not reveal many transcendental truths, but they did provide historical context for the teragen's ethnographic project.  Even more interestingly, Gale began to receive friendly communications from other members of the Teragen, even invitations to socialize in Ibiza, Havana and New York.  For better or for worse, now that Gale had taken the plunge she'd inherited a large, unruly family of nova brothers, sisters and others.  A family that paid very little attention to her claws or feathers, and valued her for what she was: nova.

---


Above Las Vegas

Johnny was almost certainly more agile in the air.  And with the full force of his quantum powers behind him, he was fast.  Breaking the sound-barrier fast.  But as the eyes of the city peered at the heavens and tracked the white, red and purple flames of the novas' exhausts, it was not the tiny engine strapped to Johnny Afterburner's back that drew their attention.  It was the roaring, quantum-stoked thrusters that rocketed Mechanus through the sky.

"Son. Of. A. BITCH!"  As Mechanus adapted and improved himself to meet the needs of supersonic flight, he sliced through the stratosphere like a knife and left Johnny far behind.  The race was no true contest.  If it had been an obstacle course or piece of trick flying, Johnny might have carried the day, but Mechanus circled the valley with time to spare.

Naturally, Johnny's reporter told the whole city of his defeat.  It did wonders for Mechanus' reputation, and the treatment of Johnny was light enough that he didn't lose much face either.  At least, among the public.  In Elite circles, Mechanus received a fleet of free drinks and a few job offers just for having shown up " that soft Upie playboy."  He'd made T2M look weak ... and that was always good for business.

---


Casa de Flare

After the first motorcycle-riding papparazzo tried riding alongside Flare's car to snap a picture, getting out of town for a stretch of desert seemed like a losing battle.
This message was last updated by the GM at 17:20, Fri 11 Oct 2013.

"Retreat may be in order.  Your place?"  Comstock's new loathing of photographers and intrusion stemmed from his need for secrecy.  But tonight he just wanted some privacy.

He extended his hand and mentally felt the moving parts of the motorcycle's engine.  Moving parts were always so much harder to work with, but he needed only a small defect.  Soon, the motorcycle had to give up the chase, the engine sputtering and dying.  "I'll feel a little guilty about that tomorrow," he admitted, "but yeah ... surprise.  I finally mastered that trick I pulled in Colombia."

Johnny was gracious in defeat.  "Alright, hot shit, you earned that one.  Fastest man in the sky falls to you.  Guess I'll have to build something a little bigger to catch up."  Mechanus had earned himself a friend-for-life.  Or at least a friendly rival and occasional drinking buddy.

A quick drive through the back alleys of Vegas, and the duo found themselves lounging with beer on Flare's plush leather couch.  She kept a low profile apartment, but enjoyed stocking it with luxury.  A leather sectional and real Alpaca throw rug stood out against the generic white of the apartment walls.  She'd tried to spice up the place with books, art, really anything to show her style.  It was a few months of trying before she realized she didn't really have a style anymore.  The dull grey walls of the compound had become home, and this apartment was just an escape.

The kitchen was also bland, for some reason an apple theme was pronounced throughout the dishware, potholders and decorative cutlery.

Her bedroom had the most flavor.  A large four-post bed with burgundy sheets and comforter dwarfed everything else in the room.  Sporadic hints of silver on throw pillows helped draw the eye.

A matching dresser and nightstand left little room to walk, but tied the room together.  Photos of family, friends, T2M:A and various vacation photos creeped across the dresser in a tide.

Flare and Comstock lounged on the couch, drinking beer and watching bad tv.  If it had been after rounding up criminals, it would have been just like the old days.


"Alright Dillon, time to spill, what's been going on?  You definitely look like a man who needs to vent."

"Ach, boyo, tha' was a right bit o' fun, s'pecially the bit where ye' just kep' gettin smaller n smaller ahind me.  Now les get back t' the bar an see what we c'n do 'bout makin' sure those lovely ladies ain't havin an itch they cannae scratch this eve, yes?"  While Paidrag was certainly ebullient he didn't seem to be making a concerted effort to rub Johnny's nose in his victory, or maybe he was just biding his time.

Dillon still had his first beer.  Since he couldn't really taste the stuff it didn't do anything for him, he always just held onto a beer and sipped it periodically to be polite company.  At Flare's question, he conspicuously took another sip to buy a few seconds.  "Well," he mumbled.  "I ... alright, just let me talk for a bit.  It's not like one of those stupid mission speeches where I can just give some orders and say important sounding things and everything's good.  I've got to sort of puzzle this out."

He sighed and leaned back into the couch.  "So I kind of disappeared after Bahrain.  Needed a month or two to clear my head incognito, without familiar people or things.  Visited China, tried to climb a mountain there, had to leave in a hurry, ended up drifting along highways in Mexico and Nicaragua for awhile.  That thing with Freak and Suzukaze, the quantum remission thing, Proteus, Laragione ... all of it.  It got under my skin.  I remember Solitaire's voice, and I remember pulling myself out of it.  But I let the metal make a lot of decisions in all of that.  It shook me up."

"I already regretted a lot of things.  But then I started regretting some other things.  Like, letting Impetus and everyone pull me away from your hospital bed after you got shot.  And giving up on the whole vigilante business when things got too hot."  He paused again, his cheeks puffing out slightly as he held a breath and tried to parse the next sentence.  "And before Bahrain there was that weird thing where we all passed out at once.  Don't remember much about it, but when I woke up I was at a Kraken Clinic getting treated because I'd coughed up most of my lungs.  I ... when I started losing my powers, at first it was okay.  Kind of nice.  But toward the end it was obvious I was dying.  The metal's like a cancer, and it's everywhere in me now.  And without quantum to sustain it, I started getting a lot more human and things started breaking down.  I kept thinking: That's bad.  Don't tell anyone.  They'll get worried.  Don't get too close.  Don't form more attachments.  It could be any day now.  Go do something heroic.  Make it mean something."

"When Crimson Dawn and I were fighting, at that Proteus prison, there were a few moments when the whole lockdown thing slipped.  I was in a headlock.  And I was sure I was going to die."

His usual quirky nervous gestures returned.  "I know, I'm rambling.  But it all shook me up.  So I tried to get my priorities together.  While I was wandering I started reading.  Took some of Dr. Zero's advice finally and tried to push my powers a bit more.  Helped out as many communities as I could.  And last week I was in Bolivia, and I'm riding in a truck up a mountain to this work site where they're going to pay me if I help fix their equipment, and I realized something.  I'd spent two months trying to make peace with the metal and push myself, but I was still trying to be a hero.  And I realize I'm sick of reading and working out and helping people, and I'm doing what I've been doing for years: just working harder rather than acknowledging any of the real shit that's been going on."

"I know that I need to stand up.  Help people.  But ... what I really regretted was not spending more time around you."  He shook his head.  "Because I am an idiot.  And we had a ... thing.  I don't know what it was, exactly.  But I liked it.  And I never really acknowledged it like I should have."

"What I'm trying to say is ... is I'm saying too many things."  He looked Flare in the eyes.  "I just know I needed to see you."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Wed 23 Oct 2013.

When their eyes met, there was a moment of passionate connection.  In that moment Flare was a mirror into Dillon's own quest to define himself, set against the backdrop of war, pain, and loss.  There was understanding there, and the spark of a future.  Then Flare shuddered lightly, blinked, and pulled away.  Looking anywhere but Dillon's eyes, she grew cool, detached.  "I'm glad to be here for you.  Any time you need me.  You should know that by now."  A smile, but without the bloom of warmth that accompanied it.  What had happened in that moment, and why did he feel like she wasn't ever coming back?

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Storyteller's Note: Obviously not Flare talking here, but I felt I should finish off the interaction and set Flare up for npc status.  Also, before she left I was working with Flare while she was on to develop some backstory where she had been conditioned by proteus, and the conditioning was playing hell with her thoughts and feelings.  This was a chance to bring that up.  Feel free to reply further if you like, or to post a wrap up.

---

This message was last edited by the GM at 05:20, Thu 14 Nov 2013.

Dillon didn't know what to make of the sudden transition.  But he'd become more talented at reading the human heart, and knew by the end of the evening that the fire in Flare's heart did not burn for him.  They smiled and talked as friends, mostly about random things and everyday troubles, and then he thanked her and left.  On his return to a safe house, he thought how absurd it was that he could face down the greatest threats to an entire planet, but couldn't find the right words ...

Impetus would have known what to tell her.  And he would have figured out why she just shut down like that.  Probably because...

He didn't talk about it.  When others gently inquired, he would avoid the question.  The confusion over the encounter led him to return to his project with renewed intensity.  Sleep became the enemy, the metal his comrade, his partner, his parasite and his flesh.

When Flare asked for a place in Vigilance, Dillon hesitated.  He couldn't stand to be apart from Flare, but couldn't be near her and couldn't stand the thought of dragging her into harm's way on his behalf.  He even thought about bearing his heart to Phantasm next, letting his adopted little sister and super-genius make the decision for him.  But that wasn't what Comstock would do.

"We're meeting soon.  I'll get you a ride."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
OOC: We'll be here for you, Flare, if you ever want to take over your character again.  But meanwhile, she's going into the ranks of Vigilance.  It remains to been if this will be the mistake that damns us all.

---