Shit, why's he here?  This is supposed to be relaxing, not me being on constant guard against pretty-boy... Though he is charming, isn't he?  Grrr!  See, that's exactly why I stay as far away from him as possible...  Not his fault though, at least I don't think he does it on purpose.  Don't want to hurt his feelings, so I guess I'll put on my game face...

Phantasm walks in and gives both of the boys a small smile.
"Hey guys.  Didn't know you were around Imp, figured you'd be... Busy.  So, we gonna play some ball, or just hang?  We could go explore the desert or something, as long as we're back by 7."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

Wow, this roll was horrible, Imp might actually notice he's not wanted.
Manip+Subterfuge: You rolled 1 success using 9d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((5,8,5,3,3,5,3,4,6)) first 3 are mega.
1q for Trickster and 3 successes
2+3
=5 succ to act happy to see Impetus

---

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
4 sux on a per+aw roll

---

Imp turns to greet Phantasm, and, while he doesn't catch anything in her body language, he does notice that she hadn't been expecting to see him.  Imp decided to make himself scarce.  No need to intrude on what appears to be pre-arranged meet.
"Actually, I just bumped into Dillon, been out for a walk, trying not to sleep,"  He yawns.  "3 people is a bit tough for B-ball, I think I'm gonna go do some stargazing, see you in the morning." Imp smiles, waves, then launches himself unsteadily into the air.  When he's about 3 miles or so up he stops climbing and simple hovers, lying on his back, looking up into the heavens.
It was so peaceful, up here, he thought.  Letting the air currants push him wherever they might, just using his power to deny gravity any hold on him.  He stared up into the stars, his enhanced vision and being closer to the top of the atmosphere made the stars absolutely breathtaking.  He pulled his cd player out of his pocket, put the earphones in, and listening to Pink Floyd's Division Bell, he floated through the darkness, staring at the stars and thinking about what the future would hold.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:06, Sat 06 June 2009.

Dillon opened his mouth, then closed it.  He breathed a sigh of relief at Impetus' disappearance.  "Ah ... sorry.  Didn't think anyone else would be swinging by."  He passed Phantasm the ball.  "How you feelin'?"

"I don't know really" she says as her smile slips away. "You know, he pisses me of.  Nice guy, great guy.  Peak of male hotness.  But its in his powers.  He gets more women than a rock star, and you can't help but be attracted to him... Yeah, I'm sure you don't want to hear this, but its just beating on you all the time you're around him.  Is it the same when you're with Solitaire?

Anyway, I don't know whether to blame him for it or not.  I mean, he takes advantage of it, but I'm not sure he does it on purpose, you know?  Where's the line, even if it isn't on purpose.  Powers make things so much less clear.

Other than that... I don't know.  This whole thing is weird.  Everything is so... I don't know, so clear I guess, but at the same time my emotions constantly kick up when I have to deal with all this stuff.  I don't let it show, and I deal with the rational side of stuff really fast, but the emotions stick around.  I wonder, if I slept anymore, would I have nightmares about that attack on Monday?  And everyone is so weird!  David going crazy all of a sudden, Zero, Harley, everybody.  Is it part of being a nova, or is it just what happens when you give someone too much power too fast?"

She pauses then, realizing she can't be the only one with issues from all this.

"But you can't be feeling much better than me right now.  I mean, we're both in new territory here, right?  How you been holding up?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:15, Sat 06 June 2009.

Comstock pursed his lips and sighed.  "I'm alright.  Feel pretty bad about the guys I hurt but I got most of that out of my system last night."  He smiled and passed Phantasm the ball.  "I'm kinda getting the hang of a trick where I just kind of close off the world and move back in my head.  Like in the kung-fu movies, you know?  Except I can just build my skin up and shut my eyes and nothing gets in.  Mostly nothing."

He wondered for a minute if Solitaire was doing the same thing Imp was.  Men did seem to go nuts for her, but he never felt like he was under assault.  "Y'know, I don't get any feelings around Sol but ... I kinda wonder if that means there's something wrong with me instead of with her."

"I'm kinda surprised at the crazy going around, though.  There's something they don't tell you about on the news."  He pinched himself.  "Still feel pretty sane."

Solitaire sits on her bed, leaning back against the wall, head pointed toward the ceiling. Her eyes are closed, earphones in place, breathing slowly and quietly. She whispered along with the words as she sat, lost in her thoughts. Must've been shook up more than I thought, this isn't like me. She smiled ruefully. She hadn't had time to herself all week, and they shipped out tomorrow morning.

Words like violence, break the silence.
Come crashing in, into my little world.
Painful to me, pierce right through me,
Cant you understand, oh my little girl.

She was dressed in a plain white tank top and a baggy pair of comfortable sweats, hardly the most flattering ensemble, but she still managed to make it look as good as ever. Her boots lay on the floor nearby, next to the ruins of the nightstand, a pair of jeans waved limply from the laundry hamper. Her jacket, perhaps the only thing she really took care of, hung, freshly polished, from the single hanger in the small closet.

All I ever wanted, All I ever needed
Is here in my arms, Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Her deck of cards lay scattered next to her on the bed, and next to them her battered CD walkman. A cord ran from the CD player to headphones fit snugly around her ears. They were a quality pair, BOSE, and big enough to block out the world, she'd hoped, but even as they drove away the quiet outside, they could not dispel the quiet inside. Solitaire turned up the volume.

Vows are spoken, to be broken.
Feelings are intense, words are trivial,
Pleasures remain, so does the pain,
Words are meaningless, and forgettable.

It was quiet, Solitaire did not like the quiet. Her mind drifted dark places in the quiet. Drifted to two high school girls, with matching jackets, mischievous smiles and fake I.D.s. Two girls, close as sisters. One left, only one left. She drew her knees up to her chest, crossed her arms around them and tilted her head down. She curled away from the memories. She was strong enough to throw a tank a mile, but she wasn't strong enough to face them.

All I ever wanted, All I ever needed
Is here in my arms, Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

She wore the jacket everyday, it was all she had left of Alexia, her first friend, her best friend. Solitaire had mended what was left of the jacket using her own, disguising the patches with the zippers, it had turned out well. No, she thought, that's not true, I have... that... too. Solitaire got up, crossing the room to the duffel bag in the corner. She set aside the few changes of clothes she hadn't unpacked yet, a sketchpad, some paint, before coming to the bottom of the bag. A violin case sat there, heavily damaged, cracked and burned and scarred. She had never opened it, not in 6 years. Solitaire opened it now. The instrument inside was miraculously unharmed, by the fire at least, it was scuffed and scratched and dented, but that was just how she'd remembered it. Her other memento. She raised it to her chin, put the bow to the strings, but she could not move. Solitaire then lowered it back down and hugged it to her chest.

_{"I'll fix it Alex, everything we wanted to fix. Do everything we wanted to do.  I'll accomplish our dreams. Your dreams. All of it."}

Jessica cried that night, for the first time in 6 years.

Enjoy the Silence

"Yeah, it kinda scares me.  I mean, sure the situation is pretty extreme, and that has to be causing some of the weird reactions from people.  But so far, in a population of what, a couple thousand?  I've seen 2 truly screwed up novas, and half our group has some serious issues as well... If statistical probabilities hold true, it means we are likely going to have a far higher than average number of people with mental disorders.  And that could be for a number of reasons, like selection bias (since people erupt under stress, the stress or the traits that predispose a person to that kind of stress could be the reason for some of the disorders we're seeing).

Sorry, been reading up on psych in my downtime this week.  Hasn't really told me much though.  I mean I can identify some of the symptoms people are displaying, and maybe figure out ways to work around the crazy people, but there are just so many possibilities where causes are concerned.  And not knowing why people are doing some of this, I could approach things from totally the wrong angle.

But you aren't crazy, that's a plus.  I'm not crazy.  Solitaire is ok, and so is Gravitas.  Assuming everyone doesn't have a bunch of stuff they're hiding of course.

So... are you going to try to stay, I don't know... Human?  I mean, I have trouble right now even relating to some of us.  I think so fast, get bored so easy... I have to do 3 things at once just to keep from going crazy with boredom.  And I just drink stuff occasionally for the novelty, don't even really like food that much.  And I feel myself drifting.  I mean, it's cool, but I don't want to turn into some monster in a few years..."

"Geez, I dunno ... I ... do I really have a choice?  Body's changing whether I like it or not.  I'm getting better with all my new parts and skin, but new things keep popping up."  He rocked on his heels, thinking.  "I want to keep it together.  Be the rock, all St. Peter-like or whatever.  I figure if I keep focused it won't be too hard."

"We'll have a better idea of it all after this first mission.  Units are always weird until their first deployment ... it'll give us a better idea of everyone.  Tell us whether I'm cut out for this, whether you want to do the big-hero thing or hang out in a lab with the brains, whether Harley and Zero and Sam can keep it all together when it counts."  He laughed uncomfortably.  "You know, a few months ago I wouldn't have imagined any of this.  I'm still kinda wondering if this is just chemical fumes making my brain boil before I die.  Uh, that's how I erupted, actually."

"Wow... do you think the reason your body is reacting this way is maybe to fill in the damage from that?  Like maybe your brain was messed up and your body is "fixing" it?

I'd share my eruption, but it must not have been that interesting, or I'd remember it right? *wink*

Hey, I have an idea.  You've been pretty focused on training your fighting skills right?  But your strength gets in the way of technique.  You ever tried working in a pool, where the resistance would slow you down?  I don't think they have any cameras up over there yet, and we sure didn't install any."

Phantasm leads Comstock away if he's willing, and resumes talking when they get over near the pool.

"Oh, and ulterior motive time.  I figure someone on this team needs to know what I can do, in case I... you know, go crazy.  It's the thing to do these days ya know :)"

At that, Phantasm kicks Dillon into the pool with a front-handstand-kick, rights herself, and jumps in after.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

The whole time she's been walking, Phantasm has been internally rearranging her body to work at peak efficiency, analyzing the way Dillon moves to find the best route of attack, and lulling him into a false sense of security.  Her transformation finishes right before she attacks, with the only visible result being that her skin changes color to blend with her surroundings, and her hands are slightly webbed to aid in swimming.

3q Shapeshift (Chromatosphores, 2 Mega-Str, 1 Mega-Dex, water adaptations (no dice, just fluff), 2 Armor)
1q Analyze weakness
1q Multitasking
1q Trickster

Analyze Weakness: You rolled 6 successes using 7d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,7,2,10,10,2,6))
You failed (no successes) using 2d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((6,6)).
=6 succ

Trickster: You rolled 6 successes using 9d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,9,2,9,2,3,9,4,5)).
+3
=9

Shapeshift: You rolled 6 successes using 7d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,9,4,7,10,6,2)).
Forgot the dice for the power: You rolled 1 success using 2d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((10,4)).
=7

Attack: 6d for A.Weakness, 12d for Dex+M.Arts, (surprise attack)
You rolled 11 successes using 18d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((9,2,8,2,5,7,9,2,10,7,8,4,6,10,5,3,9,7)).
You failed (no successes) using 2d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((2,2))
=11

Damage: 10lvls+11d (not aiming for damage, just to push into the pool)

---

This message was last edited by the player at 05:10, Wed 10 June 2009.

Comstock fell in unceremoniously, flailing to right himself.  "Hua ... pfft ... okay, P ... I'm in the pool."  He tried to tread water, but that was a bit of a challenge.

"So go deeper, under the water.  I'll teach you some stuff... I took some classes before I erupted, and then I got a whole lot better after."

Phantasm will attempt to spend the next hour or two on teaching Comstock Martial Arts (or how to fight better in general, probably could increase Brawl too).  Then she might help him with his math too.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:10, Wed 10 June 2009.

Comstock sank to the bottom of the pool.  It took about ten seconds to get used to breathing water, then another five minutes to perform little alterations until he could vocalize using his body as the amplifier.  Down here, he was decidedly outside of his element.  "Christ ... P, when'd you become Bruce Lee?"  It took nearly an hour of getting tossed around the bottom of the pool before he learned to stop working against the water and relying on force.

-

"Alright ... that's it.  No more."  He dragged himself out of the pool.  "I'm going to say this once: please don't go crazy.  I don't think I'd be able to keep up with all of you at once."  He sat at the pool's edge, sloshing his feet around in it.  "It's probably getting late.  Disappear too long and Imp will start spreading rumors."

"Hey, uh ... thanks.  For ... you know."  The eufiber rung itself out with on command, giving him a second to find words.  "I feel close to the others, I really do.  I just can't see what they see and sometimes don't even know what I'm seeing myself.  You know?  So ... thanks for meeting me halfway.  I guess."  Christ, you're an idiot, he chastised himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:03, Wed 10 June 2009.

"Not sure what exactly you're thanking me for, but you're welcome.  Thanks for being a rock to hold onto for a while.  Don't go crazy, it would really suck for me.

Byebye, off to read some more psychology before drills in the morning...  Actually, I'll walk you back, we shouldn't split up with psycho guy on the loose."
Phantasm will walk Dillon back, and then go up to the roof of the dorms, exiting through her window and climbing up.  She reads the last of the book, shifting her eyes to see in the darkness, and then just stares at the sky.  Wondering, wandering.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:09, Wed 10 June 2009.

“You know, this is weird. I’m some guy, in a suite, cape, and hood, and I’m just sitting at a desk. It just feels weird.” The sitting figure is dressed up like it is going to a Halloween party or a survivalist camp, with a white and gray cameo cape, hood, and winter jacket. It wears a ghostly white mask with air vents on the side and icy blue goggles over it’s eyes. It has a lightly gray number nine on the forehead of it’s mask.

“Well, you won’t be in the desk all the time, you know.” Says the Director, Susan Barton. “In fact, we have a missing persons case.” She hands a black folder. “But you will be at the desk a lot of you don’t follow procedure, and have to cover your ass with a paper trail." She winks at her friend.

“Yeah, yeah.” The figure flips through the folder. “Hum. Wired events. Looks like a possible Nova, and matches the MO of some of our boys. I’ll head right down, Mam.”

"Just don't let me down." she adds with a mischievous grin.

"Have I yet?"

"Not yet, but this is still one of your first cases, smart ass. Now get to." She laughs as the Nova walks away.

7:15 am.
There is a knock on your door. Your mommy goes to answer it. There is a man speaking to her. He sounds friendly. You look around the corner and see the funny man. He’s a super hero! He’s at your door! Taking you your mom! He’s wearing a white cape and hood, with gray splotches all over it, and a nine on a neat white mask. This is so cool.

The man suddenly stops talking and you mom looks nervous. He lunges onto her, grabbing her neck. She’s beating on him, and you run away. Tears stream down your face. You are so terrified. So ashamed. You grab your parent’s cordless phone and hide under their bed. You dial 9-1-1.

You’re shaking so badly that you hit the wrong numbers and hang up, than try again, trying to concentrate, so mad at yourself. You hear your dad yelling down stairs, than fall silent, in mid cry. There is a lot of heavy walking on the old wood floors downstairs, until it stops and the stairs start to creak. “Nine, one, one! Do you have an emergency?”

“Ye-ye-yes! I-I’m at my house. There’s a N-Nova here. He-he…” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, I just can hear you. What was that?”

“I… My mom’s dead! Please come!”

The hallway is creaking. You hear the door to your sister’s room open. She was asleep! There is no screaming or yelling, but suddenly you hear something big crash, like a bed. Furniture is being kicked about.

“Oh God. Where are you? Tell me your address, kid.”

“I’m at 139, Locust Ave.!”

There is whistling coming from the hall, and the calm voice of the Nova singing. “Yes sir… that’s my baby. No sir, I don’t mean maybe. Yes sir, that’s my baby, yeah… do, do, do, da, do, do, do, do…”

“Closson, right? You’re Jonathan's boy?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“Ah! Ha, ha. Oh, that explains it. This is what you get for being a little bitch to people far better than you.”

“Wh-what?!”

A white gloved hand snakes out from above the bed and drags you out by your heels. You look up at the white mask. You can't see his eyes! The goggles only reflect your face, and his white gloves around your neck. They are surprisingly gentle, slowly tightening as you kick and thrash. Things start to go black.

“Yes sire, that’s may baby, yeah… do, do, do, da, do, do, do, do…”

7:23am
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Thu 02 July 2009.

"Echo! Echo! Echo. Echo..." Zero listened to it's own voice bounce off the ravine. Looking down it, especially in winter, was a secret little pleasure of it's. "Ah, the visual stimulation of nature invokes in me a transcendence best described by the great minds of the Long 18th Century. Wouldn't you agree, Shadow?"

The Doctor's shadow obediently followed it up the steep, iced road, until finally siring in response. "Do you... always talk to yourself?"

"Humph! 'I merely have a preference for... intelligent conversation.' Yes."

"Oh, Quantum. Please don't start quoting David Kay. Again."

"Best Megatron, ev-vah! 'Yes.'"

"No!"

"'Yes...'"

"'No.'"

"'Yes!'"

"'No!'"

"'Ohhhhh Yes...!'"

"'Yes.'"

"'No!'"

It was then a car came over the roads' hump at 40mph and ran Zero over.

After her botched attempts at shifting during the start of the equitorial conflict, Phantasm decides that she is going to make some permanent enhancements to her form.  Working slowly and methodically, she spends a day off "in bed reading some medical textbooks."  She warps her bones and muscles, strengthening them and funneling quantum into them.  She painfully pops joints and sets them at slightly more efficient angles to maximize her strength.

Next, she starts to create layers of extra tissue over her vital organs, and goes so far as to reshape her heart, splitting it internally into two separte hearts, both pumping separately but with efficiency surpassing the standard human heart.  She reduces the size of her stomach and intestines while she increases the size of her liver and pancreas.  She eliminates vestigial organs, and then attempts to fill gaps with large chunks of tough cartilage to separate and shield the organs further.

Finally, she musters up the courage to start altering her brain slightly.  She shifts the shape of it, altering some of the connections, and easing pressure from her enhanced M-R node, while also making processing changes that will confuse intruding psychics.  She adds extra padding, and in between slight convulsions and bouts of unconsciousness, she goes as far as she can with her mental alterations, rewiring things to improve speed and perceptual acuity.

After all her changes are made, she sits there and holds them.  When she begins running out of Quantum, she pulls more in, and attempts to infuse her entire body with energy, overriding the prior quantum signature with the newer one... If it takes, it will be a few days before it merges completely, and the brain changes will take an especially long time.  But hopefully after all the changes, she will be more capable and dependable in a fight.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
I am spending xp to buy a mega-str dot, another mega-stam dot, a second dot of psyshield, and some health levels.  Just figured this would be more fun way of doing it than announcing the expenditure.  I will be buying more mega-per and mega-wits when the mental changes "take", and I have more xp.

Note that the changes won't take place until we've had a little downtime.

---

Jessica opened the throttle, urging the motorcycle to go faster. Alex sat behind her, hands around Jessicas waist and in her jacket pockets, head on her shoulder. "Ah, this is heaven." The other girl muttered, barely audible over the wind rushing past them. The bike had been Alex's dads, they had 'borrowed' it, without permission, of course, but he was away for the weekend, it would be all right. They weren't wearing helmets, it was stupid, they both knew, but they didn't especially care.

"Faster Jess, go faster."

Jess didn't reply, she simply gunned the engine again, topping 90 and still climbing. The bike hovered at the limits of control, pushing past time and again, especially at the turns, but that was what made this so exciting. One wrong turn, an unexpected balance shift... It was glorious.

"Whatcha wanna do? Head into town?" Jessica inquires, nearly shouting to make herself heard.

"Just go faster!"

"All right! Thats what I want to hear!" Jess laughed wildly, her brown hair cascading back behind her. The bike swayed dangerously as her eyes left the road, but that just made her laugh all the wilder. Alex's hands at her waist clutched tighter, not out of fear, but exhilaration, and she laughed too. They sped past 100, 105, 110.  God, it was better than sex, well, almost.

A siren screamed into existence and both girls turned, bike wobbling again. A highway patrol car was gaining, and it could only be after them, even if they weren't doing twice the speed limit, there was nobody else on the stretch of highway they occupied.

"Whatcha think Alex, should we stop and abandon our lawless ways?" Jessica asked, with a innocent expression on her face.

"And give up? Never. Besides, you don't even have a license."

"True, true, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so." Then, in unision and with a riot of laughter, they shouted.

"Just go FASTER!"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:16, Fri 17 July 2009.

The music was thumping, a pounding primal beat that drowned out conversations more than 3 feet away.  It was Jason's second house party, he'd helped the swim team pass the algebra mid term and they'd let him come to their party, with promises of what happened the first time he went to a weekend bash not happening this time.  It had weeks for the hair to grow back in and the bruises to fade.
He was standing near the fireplace on taking nervous drink after nervous drink of the shitmix he had swiped from his old man's liquor cabinet.  He had been to nervous to eat dinner, had spent an inordinate amount of time picking out his clothes, and had sprayed on enough Aqua Velva to make his eyes water.  he tried to talk with some people he recognized from school, but his voice was just a high pitched squeal when he yelled loudly enough to be heard so he settled for smiling and nodding and pretending he could understand what people were saying.
After about an hour he was thoroughly drunk, he couldn't feel his legs and the room was swaying back and forth hypnotically.  From his stomach came an urgent message that it was time to get to the head.  He made his way towards the bathroom with what he felt was dignified, haste.  The smirks of those he passed were lost on him, he had one goal in mind.  He reached the safety of the toilet just in time and spent quite a while puking.
He felt much better, with his head resting on the cool porcelain rim.  After a bit he washed his face, and headed out.  He noticed a girl from school, Mary, leaning against the wall.  "You ok?" he squeaked.  She shook her head.  "You need to puke?" Again the head shake.  "Wanna lie down," she managed.  He helped her get into one of the bedrooms, his hands straying a bit higher than strictly necessary for support.  She didn't seem to mind.  He helped her flop down on the bed, he'd never been this close to a drunk chick before, he mused.  She started muttering something about being hot and pulled at her shirt.  She managed to get it above her head before the struggle proved too much and she passed out...
He wallowed in guilt and self loathing after.  He felt even worse when he found out that Mary had dropped out of school 9 months later to take care of her baby.  He started cutting himself, then stopped when he went too deep and almost blacked out.  He promised himself that he'd never do something so debase again, and he vowed that he'd become a famous philanthropist and make the world a better place to make amends.  In the back of his mind he knew he never could.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:38, Mon 27 July 2009.

In a flash, the car ran Zero over. Without pause, it rolled completely out of control down the ice caked hill. The wild turning of the front wheel did nothing to stop or direct the car. Zero's body twisted under the vehicle until it somehow straightened out it's form and clung underneath, battered, but breathing. Blood leaked ominously around it's eye from where it's head bounced against the undercarriage. The car skied without pause toward the ravine. A woman and child screamed from within the car. The woman began to pray in a loud shout, desperate for divine intervention.

Jessica's knees hurt, not as much as her hands perhaps, but even that considerable pain was nothing to the pain in what had been her heart. She'd been kneeling all day, digging through the rubble of what had once been their apartment building. Its not true. She told herself, They're lying, they're all lying. It was unthinkable, impossible. Reality itself was in error, for there were just some things that could not happen.

But it had, they had said it had. It was a joke, Jess told herself firmly, just another prank, Alex was here, hiding, waiting to jump out and surprise her, like she had every year before. Alex wasn't gone, wasn't... Jess refused to finish the thought. She wouldn't do that, not to her, not today.

Wincing slightly, Jessica was suddenly aware of a sharp pain in her already aching hands, but it was strangely distant, unimportant. She looked at her palm, absently noting the large nail protruding from it before plucking it out and plunging back into the rubble. Alex was here, damn it, Jess knew she was, the rescue people simply hadn't looked hard enough, had given up too...

A flash of black and silver caught her eye, and she turned and dug madly. See? she thought, Right here, she's right here, and she'll be fine. She'll be...

Her bloody hand came up with a oblong, irregular object wrapped in black leather, and Jessica forgot to breathe. She knew that jacket, it was the twin of her own, they both wore them everywhere.

No...

That was all she could manage. That one small word, woefully inadequate to express even a fraction of what she felt, but it was all she could give. With shaking hands, Jessica peeled the leather from around the object, and read the small note tied to it. She knew then, knew that it was true, that Alex was gone.

Jessica died that day, her body simply didn't know it. She had been part of a set, a mere half of a whole, and by herself, she was nothing, she was alone.

The small, burned card fell to the ground, singed letters still readable.

HAP...Y  B...RTHDAY
         Love, Alex

[ July 2nd, 2001 ]

Hey journal.  I just kicked up my feet, let the eufiber up a bit, and leaned back against some sand-bags to write another entry in you.  I'm eating this wrap-thing and I could not tell you precisely what's in it.  It's got rice and flat bread and some kind of crunchy fruit or bean, but the brain just tells me carbohydrate, nitrates, protein, sucrose.

I've been dreaming of dancing octagons and spheres again.  The damn abstract light-shows in my head make those few hours I dedicate to sleep pretty useless.  I've been forcing myself to sleep, though, just like I've been forcing myself to write in you, Mr. Journal, to practice my writing skills on these long deployments.  After skipping sleep for all of June, it's something I want to try to do more often just to keep normal.

Zero's weaseled out of me that I can't smell anything or taste anything anymore.  It's not totally true; if I focus on something I can figure out what it's got in it.  It's useful for spotting bombs, though.  If a bag or can needs checking, I can just kind of check it.  If there's anything dense or metallic or explosive I can usually figure it out fast.  It'd be a bit alienating, though, if everyone knew about it, so I asked the team not to talk about it too much.

Thing is, I've been having some problems with my powers.  With taste and smell gone a couple of doctors thought there might be something going on in my brain, like my node getting out of control, but we've been out in Africa a lot and every time they try to get a good look at what the heck's was happening I screw it up.  They said I've got too many heavy elements and it screws up all the machines they put me through.  Anesthetic doesn't do squat anymore either, and I just can't keep from freaking out when they try to just get a look at my brain or my guts.  So it's a mystery now.  One of the brains at a Roushoud Lab in Chicago had heard about it and supposedly has a new trick with LIDAR that he wants to try out on me.  I agreed, so in about two weeks when we get some time off I'll be catching one of those portals over there.

I invited the team over to my parent's place for dinner when we get back.  I think we might just have to invite my parents over to the base, though.  House is a bit small, and there's the whole security risk thing.  Dad's glad I'm not a hippy.  Mom's feeling a bit under the weather.  I keep sending them money, but they're pretty set in their ways.

Yesterday I broke up a mob trying to kill a pair of albino kids for witchcraft.  I kinda wish David was around for crap like that, but he flew off and no one's seen him since.  I don't know that religion's really for me anymore.  Apparently my parents are starting to believe that crap about Joseph Smith being a Nova.  They'd probably have moved over to Utah if they weren't retired and comfortably down.  But yeah, the mob wanted to kill the kids on some idea that they were magical because of the albinism, and all I can think of now is whether they'd kill Nova kids just for their organs and stuff.  That'd probably make good magic in their weird heads.

Solitaire had to talk me down from killing one of the guys.  Solitaire.  She's the wild one here with the speed obsession, and she had to talk me down.  Whole thing just pissed me off.  We're supposed to move to some other part of Africa tomorrow, though, so hopefully nothing will come of it.

Okay.  I'm tired of scratching things out and fixing my sentences, so we're done here, Journal.

---

Comstock blinked and finished his food, glad to be finished.  He greeted the morning sun with a dull blink.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:14, Sat 01 Aug 2009.

It was quiet in space, oppressively so, but that was good, it gave Solitaire time to think. She had had precious little of that over the past year, with the fighting, rebuilding, press conferences and everything else. Her hair was short now, so as not to get blown up anymore, but still the same snow-white she so liked. There were also a few more zippers on the jacket, disguising the battle damage, and one sleeve was missing. But it was the eyes that were the most changed. They were harder, had seen too much, the cheeriness was still there, but more muted, more guarded. That and her arm.

Solitaire had lost it in that catastrophically stupid suicide explosion in Iraq. A piece of debris had taken it cleanly above the elbow, She still thought she might have been able to stick it back on had she been able to find it afterword. She hadn't, and hadn't needed to either. That was still a bit off putting at times.

She reached out, moving the Ace of Clubs aside and setting the Two of Clubs atop it. Then she moved the Jack of Diamonds atop the Queen of Spades as her other hand drew the next three cards.  The Queen of Hearts looked back at her, illuminated by the odd non-colored energy that comprised her left hand.

Solitaire had liked her old hand better, of that she was sure, the new one lacked the same feeling, the same aliveness, but it had other benefits, and she considered the trade-off acceptable. One thing it had done though, was underscore the change to what she was. The concrete proof that she was no longer just different, but that she was different.

The idea had been growing steadily for the past year, as she had seen the destruction that even a small number of Nova's had wrought. In quiet conversations in the upstairs room of Archon, or at Count Orzaiz's mansion, she had wondered whether or not the world would be better if they simply left. There was a mutually assured destruction among Nova's, it tended to keep them civil, more or less, and it wasn't as if they needed anything a baseline might provide. If baseline political concerns were removed from the equation, what would set them against one another?

She sighed, or would have, had there been any air to sigh with. What did it matter really? There were still things that needed to be fixed, and she and her friends were going to fix them. That was that.

Imp walked away from the housing project he'd been working on, meandering through the streets of Bunia with no real destination in mind.  He we enjoying the night air and the sounds of the city around him, so very different from North America.  Even lost in his reverie as he was he still hear the party up ahead long before he walked around a corner and walked into what looked like a wedding, people were singing, dancing, celebrating.  they stopped dead when they saw Imp, the entire city knew who he was, he had been everywhere, talked with thousands of people, built dozens of homes, he recognized some of the people and smiled a friendly greeting "Bon soir, mes amis."  There was a hushed conversation, then one of the matronly women walked over, introduced herself as the mother of the groom and asked Imp to lay his hands on the couple and bless them.  Imp did so, there were cheers, and the party kicked up again, Imp joined in, and, the next morning, woke up next to one of the young ladies from the party.  She had really wanted him to not use a condom, something about getting magic from his seed.  Weird.
In the following weeks Imp noticed that his usual magnetism had either warped into something completely different or there was some urban legend prowling around the locals about having sex with novas.  He had already heard the stories about the legends in SOuth Africa about having sex with a virgin and being cured of AIDS and its horrific consequences, so wasn't totally surprised by what was happening around him, but despite  his normal rampaging libido he was feeling deeply troubled.  It was one thing to be wanted by women because he was gorgeous, but to have fathers push their daugters towards him and for them to ask for it so directly, still very much awkward and childish, was so immensely disconcerting that he could hardly step out in public without being accosted by the citizenry.
He found himself pushed to follow his baser instincts, but cerebrally he knew it was a thing of no lasting importance, was degrading, and was something he would never, ever do.  He was in control of his hormones, not the reverse, he could defy gravity, the chemical coctail bubbling in his gonads would be similarly tamed.
  He called Caroline, he felt that she would be someone that he could talk to about separating himself from the crass demands of his flesh, ascend to a higher, more aware and advanced state.  He arranged a meeting in Cairo for a few days hence, and threw himself into rebuilding the city, using his powers to make the locals think of him as a god to be held in awe and amazement, not as a superman who was still something they could relate to, this was the only way he felt he could continue to do his job, or at least, the only way he could do it and not constantly have women and barely pubescent girls throwing themselves at him.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:14, Tue 04 Aug 2009.

Dr. Zero busies itself between moments with more scribblings. It is quickly piling up scarps of paper and notebooks in it's room. One prominent piece of paper has a list written on working titles for what these scraps may turn into. The first one is already in a 3rd Draft Form, and the Doctor is readying it for shipping to Dr. Caroline Fong, "The Mathematician," and the Count for review.

The List reads:

“Nova & the Archetype: The New Prominence of Psychology & Mythology in the Nova Age” By Dr. Zero

“The Art of War & the Nova’s Place in it: Part I” By Dr. Zero

“Why Utopia Works: A Cynical Bastard’s view on a Marriage of Benign Self-Interest and Grossly Liberal Idealism.” By Dr. Zero

“So you’ve got a Big Brain: A Realist’s observation and discussion on the limits and pitfalls of so called ‘Mega-Intellect.’” By Dr. Zero