Back at headquarters Suzukaze takes a look around and spots Binary talking with Impetus's assistant Joe looking at some paperwork. She grabs Paul's hand and starts to pull him along. "Come on this way." She approaches the two men and interrupts their conversation. "Guys I'm sorry to interrupt you, but this is important. This is Paul a friend of mine and a porter. He wants to join us, but there are things that have to go through regarding his situation. I need to meet with both Impetus and Frostburn. Can you guys get them while I take Paul to the meeting room and get him settled?"

Gale laughed at Jimmy's attempt to say he was worthy of the job.  "There's more to it than making me ice cream.  And I'll definitely pay you.  Wouldn't be fair if I didn't."  She wouldn't make Jimmy rich, but since she was providing room and board, he would at least have some spending money of his own.

Her conversation with her mother was emotional, to say the least.  At some points she almost burst into tears.  She'd been wanting to contact her again for years, and now it was like she was finally being given permission to do so.  It wasn't the reunion she had wanted, but she made sure her mom knew that she wasn't angry, and she would call, and if her mom was ever in the area, to stop by and visit.

"What, you want to be me now?  What exactly is it that makes my life so goddamn great?"  He was grinding the steering wheel with his fingers.  He wanted anger; going heavy and locking down would cut him off, and his brother needed him to feel right now.  "You think my world makes sense?  Bullshit, Terry, none of the world makes sense.  What the hell would you do if you were me?"

"You want to fuck off and do it all on your own, you do that.  But all I've got going for me is my work and the little satisfaction now and then that I look after my own, so get some goddamn perspective."  The steering wheel cracked under his grip.  He'd get something steel to replace it.  "Fuck, you're complaining that you have some support?  You could go back to school, find another goddamn country, join the army.  What the hell are you afraid of?"

Quentin frowned. It appeared that his brother was not entirely stable - not just in a quantum sense, but in a mental sense. That would complicate things. He was not the most well-equipped individual to deal with some sort of psychosis.

There were trade offs for every nova's gifts. Most of them weren't necessarily physical or mental - often they were social trade offs. The majority of novas could never live a 'normal' life ever again. They would always be viewed as different by those that had until recently been their peers. Some paid a higher price for their gifts - his brother seemed to be, certainly.

Quentin found himself wondering if that marked-up price tag on his brother's powers was due to an artificial eruption process or if it was simply a luck-of-the-draw problem - many others that had erupted naturally experienced similar problems. Unfortunately the answer to that question may well only be found in a laboratory environment, and his brother didn't seem very keen on allowing Quentin to experiment.

He supposed he should deal with his brothers minions first; they were still lurching toward him. "For what it is worth," he said to the... what? The zombies, he supposed. Anything was possible. "I am sorry for what my brother has done to you." He brought up a palm of his hand and opened fire on them.

A few moments later he took to the air to begin the search for his brother again. He couldn't have gotten too far on foot - at least not without some as-yet-unknown power. Still, without knowing about it, Quentin started with the assumption that his brother was only slightly faster on his feet than the typical athletic baseline. It would help narrow the search, at least.

Flare was immersed in the nova life; with her father dead, her mother a born again Michaelist, and her life both extremely busy and intensely interesting, she had only the occasional visits with her uncle to keep her tied to reality.  When her uncle called this time, it was almost jarring attempting to transition to mundane conversation from the analysis of the maps she'd been sent for her latest private mission with Utopia.  It was apparently off the books, but the higher ups had chosen her, which must have meant she was doing something right...

Her uncle's voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter.  "Hey there kiddo.  I uh, well, you might want to sit down for this.  It may not be a big deal to you, but then again, well... Hell, I'll just come out and say it: your mother is... Eileen is getting re-married.  She met some guy, at a church retreat, a real piece of work if you ask me.  He's been out of a job for the last year, right up until he got work doing construction for those Michaelists, and he's a 'reformed' alcoholic.  This soon after your father its just wrong you ask me.  And who on earth wants to go by Mrs. Harold Wilderschmidt?"

---

Terry turned to Dillon, and he looked more sober than he had in quite some time.  "I'm afraid of a lot of things Dillon."  He said quietly.  This kind of thing was hard for him, but he didn't seem embarrassed, only sad.  "I'm afraid that I don't matter any more, maybe that none of us matter.  I'm afraid for you, with what you do all the time.  And--" He paused for a moment, then gave the steering wheel a meaningful look.  "And sometimes Dill', I'm afraid of you.  You're better than me you know, in just about every way.  No, don't give me any bullshit.  You are.  You think quicker, know more, have better training.  And if you got mad, went crazy, or had some super villain mind control you... Well, there's nothing I could do, maybe not anything most of the other novas out there could do.  It'd be like stopping a force of nature.  People like me, we just pray when there's an earthquake or a tornado, 'cause its out of our hands whether we live or die.  And you might as well be a volcano for all the power we have to stop you."

---

Quentin easily found Ben, but when he arrived, he was met with an eery reflection of his own powers.  Ben stood in front of vortex of quantum energies, swirling blacks and greys looking almost exactly like a photo negative of Quentin's own wormhole.  Still, he could stop Ben, or at least his body, from leaving.  But the sack of dead meat standing there was no longer Ben.  Quantum sight revealed Ben's signature being consumed by the vortex, leaving a husk of a stranger behind.  As the portal irised closed, Ben's former vessel fell lifelessly to the ground.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
you can follow through if you want... no telling where it goes though.

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
I didn't get a response for Dragon regarding the post before last, so I'll just continue with story

---

Angelo fumed, and stalled for time.  Days passed, but no new solutions presented themselves.  There were precious few resources available to someone in his position.  Work in the entertainment industry was lucrative if he could manage to hide his identity.  Crime paid well, but that went against everything he stood for.  Loans from friends would be a permanent scar on both relationships, and his pride.  Heavy Industry would pay handsomely, but who would he have to work for and what would he have to do?

Then he got another call, this time an update on the ranch.  A minor quake in the area had damaged several buildings, and the Santa Ana winds that followed it days later left the roof of the barn torn apart, and one of the sheds collapsed.  The ranch continued to hemorrhage money, and his family was being torn apart trying to save it.

---

"Uh, yeah, sure, we'll get it taken care of."  "He's in a meeting, but I'm sure he'll come back any minute now, and I'll message him just in case."  Binary and Joe were extremely polite and did everything in their power to make 'Kaze feel at ease.  They offered drinks, got seats, and quickly sent out messages.  Word had gotten around about Suzukaze's unstable temper, and base staff walked on eggshells around her.

After 10 minutes, Frostburn arrived.  "This going to need privacy Suzuka?  And who's this?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Impetus can come in whenever he likes, as his scene above was ending anyway.  We can cut to this scene, then back to his continuing quest.

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---

Jimmy had a blast as Gale's assistant.  He enjoyed being important, and actually was pretty good at the job; he could talk to people quite well, and was quite charismatic.  He spent his time off, and the not insubstantial salary he was receiving, playing with rich new friends that his position as a nova "insider" had gotten him.  Harmless fun and games, though hopefully he didn't think these people were really his friends...

A letter came in the mail for Jimmy, some sort of card from the shape and color of the envelope.  And it had no return address.

After Joe and Binary get them settled Suzukaze sits in silence next to Paul. She seems to be more nervous than he is and reaches over to take his hand. When Frostburn enters she stands and bows.

"It may need to be private, but Impetus should hopefully be here soon as well. I feel It would be best to wait for him. But the reason for this is him." She gestures to Paul. "This is my friend Paul Jenkins. He's a porter and after meeting with him he would like to join our team. However his situation is similar to mine. The old team would know him better as Assassin Void, and like me he is now going to be a hunted by them."

Impetus strode through the door, curious why he was being asked to attend a meeting with Sue and Frosty.  If he was startled by the stranger's presence he made no outward sign.  He extended a hand, shook warmly, and sat.  "Sue, what's this about?"

Suzukaze takes Paul's hand again as Impetus enters. She repeats for him what she just told Frostburn then holds for a moment to let it settle.

"Please just talk with him. He deserves a chance. I was given a chance. A chance that I admit was possibly a failure. But he isn't like me. He's a much better person. I'd even give up my place on the team for him. The team lacks a porter which he can fill if allowed. And besides If we're both going to be hunted by the assassins then it's best we are together. I can't leave him alone in that matter."

"Assuming he passes the psyche eval, physical eval, basic training, and performance reviews he can be considered for a spot on T2M. I won't sugar coat this Sue, Paul.  Getting a spot on T2M is extremely difficult, it's by invitation only, and to be considered you need to have serious oomph, be photogenic, have powers that will synergies well with the team, and pass a battery of interviews.  Also, it's T2M policy that individuals that share a past are not put on the same team as emotions can compromise decision making in crises.   I will follow your progress with interest, Paul, and I assure you that if you earn a position with Utopia it will be the most amazing life path you can be on.  Sue can show you to the recruitment office, unless there was something else I'm on with some of Wallstreet's leading lights shortly."

"Aw fer fucks-" he shook his head.  "You been listening to Rush Limbaugh again?  Or that Jordan McDevitt guy?  Jesus."

Terry was right.  But he was also dissembling.  "So you drink because you're scared because I could flip out.  Yeah, that makes a lot of fucking sense.  Come on, we're here.  This is still your place, right?"  He parked.  "When you get out of this car, are you going to hit another bottle up there?  You want me to come up, help you sort some more of this out?  What?"  What the hell more could he say, anyway?  His brother didn't even think he was a human being anymore, and was justifying his own slow crawl into the depths of self-deprivation with that belief.  "Look I want to help, Terry, but you're making it really damn hard."

Something for Jimmy?  Something from Mom maybe?  Who else knew he was here?  Maybe he was giving the address out to his contacts?  She held the envelope up to the light, but unwilling to investigate further than that, she set it on the dining room table.  "Jimmy!  Mail for you!"  She returned to sorting through the rest of the envelopes.  Fanmail, fanmail, fanmail, bill, fanmail, junk, fanmail,...

How? Why would her mother do this?

Replacing the phone, and all her things, would be no major problem.  The main hallway of Utopia, however, was going to be blackened for quite a while; thank goodness most people were out of the sleeping area during the day.   Had she thought herself in control and awesome just a few minutes ago? Now here she was down a side corridor in the science sector, sniffling and sobbing like a child.

Flare paced back and forth in the hallway, swiping angrily at her eyes and glaring daggers at the one lab tech that’d happened upon her.

That bitch.  How could they even be related?  She had no illusions about her mother.  Katelin Childe had never been an open minded nor brilliant woman, but she had been a dedicated wife and mother.  Caring for her children had been her career and Flare grew up believing she could always rely on her.   She’d had that believe dashed once when she’d decided to be a police officer, and again upon awakening.  Rather than supporting a child who’d become a nova, Flare’s mother had rejected her.  Enduring her presence at the few family gatherings Flare had attended with a look of fear and an unwillingness to even speak to her daughter.

Flare had let her mother go, even when her father had died, she’d offered her condolences to the widow Childe with all the feeling of other acquaintances.   Now though…how could the woman who raised her do this?  Flare had ignored the Michaelists movement for the most part, and they seemed to ignore her just as much.  Perhaps because Flare rarely held back from using her powers.   Now her darling mother was chaining her whole family to the movement.

Flare grimaced at the thought taking shape.  She wiped her eyes a final time, blinking rapidly to clear out the redness, and with a final sniffle made her way into the main area of the compound.   Perhaps it was time to pay her dear family a visit…and crash a Michaelist wedding.

Frostburn raised an eyebrow and grimaced slightly.  More complications, but it was hard not to see the opportunity that Paul represented.  He was already experienced, and inured to the horrors that were all to common in nova encounters.  He had a valuable power suite, especially with both Slider and Gravitas gone from the team.  And he was a "bad guy" switching sides, which had a great many risks but was also gave Utopia a chance to apprehend his former group and remove an asset from their enemies.

"I'll make some calls.  And since 'Kaze is auxiliary anyway, the relationship thing won't be an issue.  That said, his past will.  You were something of an exception Suzuka, and your record might influence how the directors view his application.  But we'll try, and either way he'll be given protection by Utopia from his former associates.  We'll do our best to take care of him.  But I need to ask you Paul, are you sure this is what you want?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Winding this scene down, maybe just a good reply post and then we'll move on to another vignette.  This will either lead to more on Shiro, or it will be about the revenge of the assassins at a very bad time for 'Kaze.  We'll see how things go.

For Impetus, this will lead wherever you want, but I'd wait and see the fallout from Teams before deciding.

---

--

When Jimmy got home, he was surprised to see the letter.  He opened it right away, and gave a surprised whistle.  "Well, you aren't going to believe this.  Well, this part you will at least, Mom and Dad are divorced.  But the part you won't believe is that Dad's already getting re-married.  Apparently his new wife thinks family is important, so she sent me a wedding announcement.  Oh, and uh, guess where their getting married..."  After pausing just long enough for dramatic effect, Jimmy continues.  "Some Michaelist church."

---

Terry's mood shifted again, this time to sullen exhaustion mixed with chagrin.  "No, no I'll be fine.  I'm just sorry I drug you into this at all.  And it's not your fault I'm like this, I just need...  I just need to get my shit together.  I know it.  But I just thought I'd tell you some of this, while I'm drunk enough not to stop myself.  You're my brother, I love you no matter what you turn into, but I needed to tell you how things are for me, what it's like.  I... fuck, I'm tired.  Thanks for the bail out, and the ride, and even the goddamned Talk.  I promise I'll get my shit together, but now all I really want to do is take a piss and pass out.  I'll... Call you later this week or something?  And if there's anything I can do for you, down here at the bottom, let me know."

"Swing by the charity later this week and we'll do lunch, okay?  Take it easy."  With that, Comstock waited for his brother to get inside and turn on the lights, then drove slowly back to his office.  He didn't have a 'home' -- not a real one anyway.  He kept his room on the Utopia campus and he had a spare private office at the charity offices.  And the safehouse for his 'hobbies'.  But no 'home' exactly.

He tried to sleep and not think about destroying the bar's computer.  Or the two men that took advantage of his brother just to get to him.

"Ah."  Awkward.  Especially given her history with the Michaelists.  She briefly wondered if her eruption was what had caused her dad to turn to the Michaelists.  "You going to go?"  It was a cautious question.  She still didn't honestly know Jimmy enough to know how close he was to their dad.  Mom had hinted at some things, but the winged woman hadn't felt comfortable enough to ask.

Angelo strode into his room and started to put together a backpack of things he'd need for his trip.  His lips were pressed tightly together and his jaw muscles clenched.  He hated what he was going to have to do, but after weeks of wrangling with his family, the bank, and his own conscience he couldn't see any alternative. He stopped in the middle of his packing and pulled out his phone.  Utopia had assigned an “agent” to him when he was attached to T2M:A, but he had never called the man, just a single exchange of e-mail pleasantries as part of his in-processing.

“Yes, may I speak to Mr. Richards please?” Angelo asked the receptionist who answered his call.  “Tell him that El Dragon needs to speak with him on an urgent matter.”

While he waited, he plugged in his earpiece and went on with his packing.  “Mr. Richards, hello, El Dragon.  I ...need a favor...

* * * * *

Soaring in over the San Emigdio Mountains in the late morning sunlight, El Dragon aimed for a dusty expanse of grassy pastures draped across their foothills at the southern end of the San Joachin Valley.  He flew down low, skimming the hilltops, making for a large colonial era hacienda near the northern border of the property.  Even though he hadn't been here in years, he still knew the contours of the land well.

Ahead and to his right he saw a woman on a chocolate colored mare galloping slowly across a hilltop.  He shifted his eufiber from his El Dragon suit to a “Go Army” t-shirt, jeans and hiking boots, and slowly curved in until he was flying along beside her.  He knew the horse had already seen him and as long as he didn't make any sudden moves it was willing to keep doing what the rider wanted.

He flew along, lying on his side, gradually easing up until his sister spotted the movement in her peripheral vision.  She started to turn, then jumped, staring in astonishment for a few seconds.  Then her face lit up and her eyes flew open wide. “Angelo!” she shouted with a squeal, and reined her horse in.  When she had stopped, she practically leapt out of her saddle to drape herself around her brother's neck.

He caught her and spun her around.  “Hello Miranda,” he said.  For a few moments he just basked in the sun of his sister's welcome, eyes closed and smiling contentedly.

“Why didn't you tell us you were coming?” she asked as he gently settled them on the ground.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Angelo said, smiling.  It wasn't a lie, but it concealed the real truth.  “Where are Mom and Dad, and Lorenzo?”

She stepped back, smiling broadly.  “Mama is at the house, and Papi and Renzo went to town, but they should be back pretty soon.  Oh! Everyone is going to be so excited to see you!”

Angelo listened through her little burst of speech, which ended with an enthusiastic hop when she said “excited.”  She was 24, but sometimes she acted 16. He didn't know whether to be amused by her girlish antics, or amazed at the joy and energy that bubbled forth from her.  “I'm sure Mama will be excited,” Angelo said, “and Lorenzo, maybe, but I don't think excited will describe how Papi is going to react...especially when he finds out why I'm here.”


“Why are you here,” she asked, her sudden curiosity causing her to tip her head to the side.  “No, wait!” she said, clapping her hands over his mouth, “If it's something depressing, I don't want to hear it until after dinner at least.  I want to enjoy at least that.”  Her words began to trail off, and she took her hands off Angelo's mouth and stepped back.  “I need to put Adelita away.”

Angelo managed to hide the pain from his face until she turned away to get the reins of her horse who had wandered a little away.  The sooner this axe was lifted off his family's neck the better.  Surely his father would see that.  He forced a neutral expression back onto his face as Miranda came riding back.

“How fast can you fly?” she asked with a calculating look in her eye.

Angelo felt some relief as he sensed that some game was about to be proposed by his capricious sister.  “I'll put it this way,” he said, “I signed out at the main gate of my post two hours ago.”

Miranda's eyes got big.  “Wow, that's a five hour drive,” she said in wonder.  Then she asked, “How fast can you run?”

Angelo scratched his head a little.  “Well,” he said, “faster than I used to be able to, but not so fast that I can do without a car for driving around town.”

“We'll race you back to the house,” she said, patting the alert-looking horse on the neck, “but no flying!” she added, shaking her finger at him for emphasis.

“Well, I guess...” he began.

“Okay,” she said.  “Ready...Set...”

“Wait!” he cried.

“GO!  HYAAA!”

“No fair!” he shouted after her as Adelita leapt forward down the hill, kicking up clods of dirt.  He had been in the middle of changing his eufiber from boots to running shoes.  When he had finished, he took off on a slightly different path.

Adelita was fast, but she needed relative smooth ground to take advantage of it, meaning they'd be arcing around the skirts of the hill down to the road in order to catch the bridges over gully and the canal.  Meanwhile he pelted up the hill with long, leaping strides and down its other side with three long bounds.

As the ground leveled out, he broke into a sprint for the gully straight ahead.  He was a little more than a third of the way across when he began to hear hoofbeats behind him.  A few seconds later he heard Miranda's shriek as she spotted him.  The gully was too wide here to leap all the way across so he aimed for the relatively flat bottom then sprang in two powerful leaps up the other side.  As he began the sprint for the canal, he checked over his shoulder.  Miranda was leaning far forward over Adelita's neck, shouting encouragement and grinning like a fool. Oddly, it looked like the horse was having just as much fun as her rider.

The canal was going to present a different challenge.  It was just as wide as the gulley, was full of water and had a barbed wire fence running along each side.  But he had a plan.  He kicked out his front leg and cleared the first fence like a hurdle.  When his feet came down, rather than plunging into the water, they landed on a small patch of force field and his momentum sent it planing across.  At the other bank, he dove over the other fence and shoulder-rolled to his feet.

Now it was down to about a quarter of a mile sprint.  He looked over to the road. There was Adelita, pretty far back, but gaining now that they were both on flat ground running the same direction.  Up ahead, he could see the hacienda; it was going to be close, but could see that he had just enough lead to win.  Thinking it over, though, he decided to give Miranda her moment of triumph and so eased up on his stride just a touch.

Despite all his combat experience, hearing a quarter horse thundering up behind him as he ran up the last stretch of the road to the gate was making the back of his neck prickle.  It was almost a relief when he felt them surge past him just before they crossed under the arch of the gate.

Miranda threw both hands in the air, crowing and laughing then falling over Adelita's neck, she hugged her enthusiastically.  Angelo trotted up to where Miranda was walking her horse to let her cool down.

“We won!” Miranda cried.

“Yes you did,” Angelo said, grinning.

“Wow, I thought we weren't gonna make it for a minute there, you got so far ahead. That was a really cool trick at the canal though.”

He followed her in a circle around the yard while she talked a mile-a-minute, nodding and smiling at the appropriate moments.  Finally he said, “Adelita, you are queen of the road,” and gave her a courtly bow.  “But,” he said, speaking to Miranda again, “I must go inside now and say hello to Mama or she'll never forgive me.”

As he squared his shoulders and headed for the house, the thought crossed his mind that he was about to go tell her that she was going to have to auction off the antique furniture and art she had so painstakingly collected in restoring the hacienda to its Colonial beauty.  The auction house (one of the most exclusive in California) has already been called and the appraisers will be here in the morning.  Once she understands that there is no other way, and no more time, she'll see that there is no other way to cover the past due payments AND replace the herd so that the rancho can start earning its keep again.  She'll understand alright, and she'll go along with it...but still may break her heart.

The scent of Gardenias was overwhelming.  It didn’t invoke the nausea that came from funeral mums, but her stomach still churned at the happy little bigots ran to and fro putting up last minute streamers and icing the punch.   Light pink and blue for the décor, it looked like an overly religious baby show rather than a wedding.   God help her if any half-sibling were on the way.

With all the last minute preparations it had been easy enough for Flare to sneak through the milling throng.   She was more known for her flames and spandex body suit than any physical traits, and with her powers stunted, she looked no different than any other attractive woman waiting for the wedding to start.  Well, she got a few raised eyebrows when she didn’t seem inclined to take off her rust colored trench coat, but screw them.  She’d wear what she wanted; after all, she wasn’t even invited.

Flare felt a twinge of guilt as a flower girl went running past.  Kelly…Crystal…she couldn’t remember, the child had only been three when Flare had last seen her.  She really hadn’t seen anyone but her uncle since the funeral.  Flare wondered who her mother had chosen to be her maid of honor.

The odd looks started increasing as people started to settle in.  Flare smiled like she recognized someone in the fourth row and made her way over to the Wildershit side.

The middle aged man she sat next to didn’t seem to think anything was amiss; he looked at her a few times, and finally smiled before turning to the front.  Flare understood.  The man recognized her, but assumed it was due to the family ties of the wedding, not because she was plastered across a few bill boards.  Hopefully it wouldn’t cause any problems.

Flare slumped a bit in her seat and waited for the insanity to begin, and end.

Suzukaze looks to Paul for any response. He doesn't answer though instead grabbing a nearby pen and paper. He begins to write down a detailed list. When he is done he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a credit card. He puts it on the paper and slides it over to her.

"Suzuka would you be a dear and get the things on this list for me. I obviously wasn't prepared, and would rather not take a risk going back to get anything. He smiles at her and holds her hand. "I'll be ok here with them right. They're your friends after all."

Nodding she takes the list and the card. "Sure. Then maybe we can spend some time catching up before I escort you to your next destination." She stands and bows. "If you'll excuse me. I'll be back as soon as I can." She then walks out the door pausing to look back quickly.

When she is gone he looks at both Impetus and Frostburn. He has a charismatic aura about him. "To be honest the thing I want most in this world just walked out this door. But she chose my best friend, and I couldn't separate them. Shiro was the only one for her. It doesn't matter if he was dead I couldn't take her from him. So I swore to protect her. She was so fragile when we found her. Just a girl who turned into a nova taking her grandfathers life upon eruption. The assassins just made her worse. Fire especially with what he tried to do.

Shiro actually wanted to try to put an end to the assassins. The three of us together. But she ran off and joined you. The boss wanted her dead. Shiro wanted to get her back on the team. Which would have been a possibility if Shiro didn't disappear at the hot springs. Then Fire was put in charge. It's a nightmare what it's become.

I'm glad to be gone. But like her I'll be hunted. It will be difficult without me, but they find someone and they'll come eventually. It would be best if things worked out and I could be on the team. To my understanding you are lacking someone with my abilities. I know I can be of use and I'd feel better if I had friends at my side. I heard what you said about Suzuka not being a part of the team. I don't know the details, but if I am accepted into Utopia I'd like to be together with her. Our friendship actually makes us a strong combination. I also think it would be best if we were together in case the assassins come for us. Besides I heard the rumors of her, and I think I could be a big help in keeping her inline.

Gale tried to show up late.  She didn't want to be there before anyone else, and perhaps she would be less noticeable if more of the guests were already there.  Of course, that thought was silly.  Nobody was going to miss a woman with wings and bright blue hair.  She was dressed in her usual suit; she didn't want to look like a slob.  This would be the first time she had seen her father since she was 16.

How had she gotten here?  Jimmy had somehow talked her into it.  But the longer she was here, the more nervous and apprehensive she was.  He had come with her, and his face seemed to reflect how she felt.  Perhaps he felt the same?  Perhaps he felt guilty for asking her to tag along with him.  As they entered the church, she hung back, trying to find a dark corner to hide in.  Jimmy paused in the aisle, but Gale shook her head.  She wasn't going to cause anymore ruckus than she had to.

Leaning against the back wall, she crossed her arms.  Ah, there were the whispers as people tried to discreetly (and not-so-discreetly) glance her.  "What is she doing here?"  "Of all the nerve..." "Nova scum..." She couldn't actually hear them, but that's what she assumed they were saying.  These were mainly Michaelists after all.

Struggling in the way only drowning men did, Quentin began his 'round-the-clock work to find a cure. One eye was being constantly fed information by a head-mounted holographic projector - data on chemicals, updated data from the various subjects of his inquiry (including himself), every official report he could find regarding the attack, every unofficial document he could dig up about the attack, data on nova sterility (which may or may not even be linked), constant analysis of samples he'd taken from anyone that would give one, whether it be blood, tissue, or something more exotic. All this he fed into one eye just so that his brain would absorb it, integrate it, and help complete a picture of what was going on.

Meanwhile he conducted experiments on tissue samples, crunched through probability analysis, mixed chemicals, and did whatever else he deemed necessary to further his research into the topic. Every 12 hours he put himself through a battery of tests to gauge the decline of his own powers - both to clear up exactly what they could expect as far as the progression of the condition went and to give himself an idea of how much time he had left to find a cure.

He wrestled with the possibility that there might not be a cure. He remembered life before he'd erupted and often wondered how he'd managed without his quantum gifts. They made they mundane easy, and the impossible possible. He never wanted to go back.

But there it was. He was already on his way back. He had a pretty good idea of what most of his peers could expect from the disease. What he could not entirely predict were the differences he, Solitare, and Impetus would suffer through. They'd been through chrysalis - an intensely personal and nearly spiritual change intended to focus their own personal evolution. It made their powers more a part of who they were, tightly integrated with both their identities and their bodies. He could predict a number of possible symptoms, but none of them had particularly high confidence levels. Certainly the most probable effect was something akin to an identity crisis mixed with a crisis of faith.

It made him question, as he worked, who he had become. Was his (perhaps reckless) embrace of his transhuman nature wise? Was it even safe? (He thought probably so, given what he'd learned of Divis Mal since meeting the man.) Was it in his own best interest? He believed so, on all counts. Given his current declining power, he certainly hoped so.

Periodically he began to suffer migraines similar to the one he'd experienced upon his eruption. Similarly, his cybernetic and natural limbs began to spasm unpredictably as his enhanced physiology began to lose its ability to protect the rest of his brain from the highly developed node within it. The end of each of these episodes saw Quentin surge back into activity, renewing determination even as he suffered setbacks.

If there was a cure, he would find it. If there wasn't one, he would make one. There were no other options. The alternatives were unthinkable.

Guests were greeted by the smell of gardenias, the flash of a few too many cameras, two national news crews, and a plethora of guests from both the families of the happy couple and from the michaelist establishment.  A great deal of excitement over a recovered alcoholic and the widow of a cop killed by nova drug cartels.  But the church had contributed large sums to the event, and the news crew had somehow gotten wind that the happy bride and groom were parents of some of the world's most famous novas, and a speech addressing nova issues from the perspective of nova parents was expected.

The ceremony itself was beautiful, in an overdone sort of way.  The religious portion was a bit long, but that was expected of a michaelist ceremony after all.  All in all, it was a fairly mundane, though expensive, affair... right up until the bride and groom spoke to the crowd.

tap tap tap.  "Is this on?  Hmm, guess so, sorry about that..."  The groom awkwardly took the microphone in his hand, and smiled at the crowd.  "First, we want to thank the church for helping us find one another, and celebrate our, uh, union.  And we want to thank all our friends and family for attending.  But most importantly, we want to dedicate this ceremony to our children, and urge them to join us in our new life with each other, and with the church."  A pause to look thoughtful, then the microphone passes to the blushing bride.

"We miss our children, and we love them.  Our normal children, and our others... It isn't their fault that satan touched them, and they can make the choice to turn their backs on his gifts.  The church even has training programs that teach those touched by satan's hand to push his dark gifts out, letting a person return to their normal, godly self.  I... I couldn't get in touch with my daughter, but wherever she is I hope she listens to me, and accepts Jesus back into her heart.  But my husband, well, he sent his own son into the lions den, where he could convince his big sister to return to the fold.  She's here with us today... Honey, your father has something to say to you."  A handkerchief dabs at crocodile tears as the microphone passes back to the groom.  Jimmy gazes at the floor intently, avoiding the scrutiny of the cameras, and any look of betrayal from his sister.

"Honey, I miss you so much, and I'm so glad you could be here today.  I'm sorry for all the things that've gone between us, and I hope you'll find it in your heart to accept Jesus today and come join in our life with us.  What do you say?"  Earnest look, at the cameras, then toward Gale.  The cameras panning toward her, the expectant look on the faces of the bride and groom, the hush of the chapel... They were all waiting for her reply.

Gale blinked in surprise.  This really had blind-sided her.  Sure, nobody would miss her, what with her wings and hair, but to be put in the spotlight with cameras on her...was not what she expected.  In fact, the more she thought about it, there shouldn't be this many cameras here except for the fact that she was here.  At that point, her training with Utopia kicked in, and she regained her composure.

"Into the lion's den?" she asked pointedly, casting a glance at Jimmy.  Had it all been a lie?  Perhaps not all, she had reconnected with her mom, after all.  But this...this was a farce.  Her nose wrinkled slightly as she tried to control the emotions inside her.  "As I recall, you, Father, decided you wanted nothing to do with me when I erupted.  You cast a 16-year-old girl out on her own, frightened and without the support of her family.  And now, now that I'm 'touched by Satan', you suddenly want me back?"  It made no sense with the Michaelist rhetoric.

"I came here to support Jimmy.  I wouldn't have come if he hadn't asked, respecting the promise you forced me to make years ago."  She could feel her brow furrowing; she was becoming angry, years of pent up pain just about to burst.  She pointed to her wings with her clawed hands.  "These...do not go away.  They will not go away because you wish them to.  I've accepted who I am.  I am a nova.  I found a new family when you wouldn't have me, a family that loved me and accepted me AS. I. WAS.  And if you really loved me as you say you do, you'd accept that too.  You'd ask me back without asking me to join a church that says I'm evil.  You'd be a true father, instead of pretending to be one."

With that, she turned and left, doing her best to block any further shots from the cameras with her wings.  She had always hoped for a reunion with her family, but not like this.  This was a lie, a publicity stunt.  So far removed from a real loving family would do, it was unbelievable.  She needed to get out of here.  It was not only a publicity nightmare, but a toxic environment to remain in for much longer.

Flare wasn’t what one would call forgiving under the best of circumstances.  She was torn between screaming ‘mommy’ and running up to embarrass and shame the woman, and torching the place.

She didn’t get the opportunity as Gale spoke up.

The fire-user was floored.  She still had a bitch of a mother, and new Michaelist pricks to deal with, but she also had a sister.   As Gale got to her aisle, Flare stood up and caught her around the arm.

She met Gale’s eyes, but didn’t attempt to stop her from leaving aside from this brief pause.

Now, up until a few months ago and extensive media training, Flare would have torched the place.  It was gaudy, fake, and full of false emotions.  The Michaelist equivalent of a strip club.  Now, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing a Nova on the rampage.  Unless they pushed her.

She started slowly walking to the stage, her eyes only for her mother, and her.  “You disgust me.  You are no better than any other racists though out time.  Those who are different are ‘evil’ or ‘cursed’.  Would you exorcize the Nova out of me, Mother?” She actually winked at the crowd and the cameras, a gesture completely out of place with her tirade, a breaking of the fourth wall to include the viewers at home to hopefully turn this revival into a farce. “I’d say you could burn the devil out of me, but I’m pretty sure you know that won’t work.”

She turns to the groom…Gale’s father… “So, dad, I’m so glad you were able to make that heartfelt speech to our little Gale.  Way to make her feel welcomed back, abomination that she is.  It’s like she said though, she has a family now, and we don’t need her to conform to be one of us.”
 

Gale paused her retreat when someone grabbed her arm, planning only to give them a glance before continuing on.  But it was Flare!  What was Flare doing here?  Hurt confusion crossed her face.  Had she been followed?  Had the team discovered the secret she'd worked so hard to keep over the years?  Realization dawned when she recalled what the bride had said.  Flare was the other nova child!  Of course!

That Flare had come surprised her.  It didn't appear the fire-user had any relatives who had coerced her here.  Gale paused in the middle of the aisle to watch and listen as Flare approached the couple.  She wanted to hear what her fellow nova had to say.  Then they could leave.  As sisters.

Flare allowed a smirk to eat across her face as she faced the camera.  Her shark's-tooth grin gave the reports a new headline. She tried to keep the heat from lancing out, but failed.

“We are no different than baselines, and the idea of demonizing people, who come from the same towns, went to the same schools, and” she gestures to her own family as she chokes up, “grew up in the same house as you.”  She swipes a hand across her eyes as cameras flash.  “You don’t have to love me, or even like me, but stop pretending that it’s because of MY nature.  The problem is all you, you bastards.”  With a bolstering breath, Flare jumped off the stage, She took Gales' arm as she passed, trying to lead her new sister away from this circus.