In reply to Impetus (msg #45):

Smiling winningly, she replies:

"Well,as for training, you're going to get everything we can shove in that pretty head of yours.  Diplomacy, physics, languages, tactics, combat training... Like i said, everything we can pump into you.  You'd be surprised what comes in handy on missions.

As for powers, we'll just have to see what happens.  You guys are all just starting to explore your abilities.  It's my job to see to it that you learn how to control them, and to teach you how to improve your proficiency with them.

And... as far as staff/trainee relations..."

at this point, Frostburn moves seductively up to Impetus, close enough that he can feel her breath on his neck.  She puts her hand on his head... and ruffles his hair.

"...I'd take a cold shower kiddo.  But it isn't strictly against the rules, if you can find the energy.  Just don't use anything other than your winning personalities to get into someones pants!" At this point, she raises her voice and looks at everyone in the room "T2M needs strong leaders that won't intimidate the public.  We don't need sex scandals.  That said, there are enough nova groupies out there that anyone can get laid if they want to. And the party scene can be quite a good time... Just be responsible people, and you are in for the ride of your life."

"Good questions.  Anything else?"

Samuel can't help but laugh at his comrades attepmt at flirtation. Feeling better about this seemingly cold woman, he approaches her. "Ms. F-F-Frostburn, how is it th-that you can control your p-powers so... c-c-casually, and with s-so little effort?"

In reply to Frostburn (msg #46):

"Is there a chapel at the facility? If so is it only open on weekends or all the time? If there isn't one, would it be too much to ask for one? Or directions to the closest one?" David said looking slightly apprehensive, avoiding eye contact with Frostburn.

Dillon kept his distance from Frostburn and the commotion and tried to make small talk with Quentin and whoever else was nearby.  He flipped through the manuals and schedules idly.  He didn't really care what was in them.

To Quentin and the others.  "I need some food ... then I don't know.  You play hoops?"  Hoops was how he usually bonded.  He looked to prodigal, unsure how basketball would work versus a man with wings.  "Or, uh, cards?" he corrected, spotting Solitaire.

David played with the cross on his neck absently and looked at Dillon and shrugged. "I'm fine with anything"

In reply to Prodigal (msg #48):

"Well, there is a chapel here, but like most of the base, it isn't staffed.  For an actual service, you would want to drive into the city.

As for my powers Samuel... How do you drive your car so easily?  Or read a book?  Eventually it becomes natural. Hopefully, by the time we're done, you'll be just as capable as I am.

Ok guys, if there's nothing else, I'm out for the evening.  See you tomorrow morning.

Nice meeting everyone, and for those that didn't have any questions... think of some.  You need to start really thinking about your abilities."

Frostburn makes her exit, giving Impetus a pat on the back on the way out.

The Dr. walks out from behind Comstock seemingly out of nowhere. "Hoops? Maybe. But I have to admit I'm a bit bushed, and I think I'd loose my shirt in cards. How about something more relaxing before we're thrown to the lions? Anyone want to play video-games or board game? I have a copy of Elites 3: Toltenenz' Revenge, or Risk: Kashmir/Pakistan Judgment." Zero looks for a watch before realizing it was left in the apartment. "Bah! Does anyone know the time? I want to get at least 8 hrs before the Gauntlet begins tomorrow."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Wed 01 Apr 2009.

"Well, I haven't really in the past," Quentin admitted as he flexed one of his hands and stared at it. "But I think I could pick it up. I didn't really gain much in the way of strength with eruption, but my balance and stamina are... much improved." He had eaten almost nothing of the food offered in the room and, indeed, had not balked at the thought of waking up at 4am.

"That makes you think, though," he said, catching Comstock's glance at their new winged companion, "there's been some murmurs about nova sports, but you kinda have to wonder how that's gonna work..."

In reply to Comstock (msg #49):

"Cant say I play basketball, cards on the other hand..." Solitaire never turned down a game if she had the time. She was, however, significantly worse at them than she thought she was, but wrote it off as bad luck. She knew the rules to most games, had a good poker face, could read people reasonably well, and still could never seem to win. At best, she'd almost break even. Solitaire dismissed the thought. This time, got a good feeling.

Frostburn's words had shocked Samuel. "Natural?" he said to himself. Ignoring the others, he sat at the table to finish his food. I had always believed they were somehow separate from me. He thought a little more, and had to chuckle at himself. I need to stop listening to Grams. He used his tendril to give his now cold food a little zap, hoping to warm it up some. He figured he'd catch up with the others later; he had a bit of thinking to do.

Dillon shrugged.  "Probably with him dunking on us and a lot of college scholarships.  Or that masked wrestling they got in Mexico."

Dr. Zero's sudden appearance startled Dillon.  "It's past four.  We've got, like, three hours if you want a good night's sleep."  He looked around.  Video-games weren't his thing, and he wouldn't know what to do with a board game if the instructions were etched into his eyeballs.  He'd played his little brother in Monopoly once and that hadn't ended well.  "Alright, look, I'm gonna get changed and drop this stuff off in my bunk.  Anyone who wants, we can work up a bit of a sweat at whatever they've got for a gym here and then kill the night with Texas Hold'em or whatever.  Yeah?"  It looked like Samuel was out, but Dillon couldn't figure out where the rest of the room stood.

Quentin performed a quick adjustment in his head to the Pacific timezone. "Its actually about 6pm," he offered. "Timezones and all."

He shrugged on the note of returning to his room, he didn't really have much to unpack anyway. "I suppose we should head to the 'dining facility'? We can discuss what to do after that once yo- we're done eating." He corrected himself mid-word, supposing that he should probably eat something with the others to be sociable.

"ok that sounds like a plan, I hope they have meatloaf, I haven't had any good meatloaf in a while," David said hover next to what he hoped were new friends.

In reply to Prodigal (msg #58):

Realizing that everyone was leaving for dinner, Phantasm looked mournfully at her couch-nest before grudgingly getting up and following behind everyone else.

Moving up behind Comstock, she taps him on the shoulder

"I'll play ball with you if you can't get anyone else.  After dinner though."

"Alright, cool.  Let's go."  Dillon said his goodnights to everyone heading to bed early, then left in search of the dining facility.

"So, I think I caught most of your names, but I came in near the end there.  What's with the code-names?  Dillon asked the others as they walked.  The guys at the Rashoud center were asking me if I had one yet."

Impetus, thrilled that he had been invited to play sports, even if it was a group invite, perked up.  "I'd love to play some ball; I haven't played since grade school though." (in his mind "playing ball" was equated with getting picked last or not at all, then being subjected to constant ridicule.  Maybe now, with his new and improved bod things would be better)
He fell in beside Comstock as they group of novas moved towards the dining area. "Code names?  I dunno, it seems that all Novas have 'em.  If you think about it what sounds better "Superman save me!" or, "Hey, Clark, gimme a hand!" Imp's brow furrowed in thought, "That and really, i can only speak for myself, but the name that suited me so well before feels to.. what's the word, constrictive."
Looking over at Phantasm Imp smiled and held out a hand.  "We haven't been properly introduced, please call me Impetus, or Imp for short."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:27, Thu 02 Apr 2009.

"As much as I'd like to play I think maybe I shouldn't unless someone else can fly too, maybe things will be even that way." David responded wanting everyone to feel like that they could have a good time.

"Think of it this way, you can fly, but you have to dribble the ball every 3 flaps, so you can't get that far above us.  That and the basket's the same height for us as it is for you so we can still try to block you.  Really, those of us who can't fly will have to learn how to deal with people who can fly sooner or later, right?  My question is, do we use our other powers or not?  I'm voting on not since i don't have that much control over mine yet."

"Solitaire's been my nickname for a few years now actually. Picked it up when I got to art school, seemed to fit.  Was a bit of a loner, and liked to play cards." She hadn't cared, hadn't had much in common with them anyway. "Oh, and I can fly too, sort of. The only bit I've really masted is falling though." Solitaire chuckled a bit at that. "And how are you going to define powers? I can't do anything flashy, but I can bench a car these days. Can't really turn that off... Why not just have some fun, we have skill, why not use them? Though we should probably try to avoid damaging the gym too much, they might not like that. Go easy on me though, eh?" The threw the group of them a smile.

Quentin laughs quietly for a moment. "Well, if what you've said of your powers is true, it may be nearly impossible to win against you," he briefly imagined people shooting the ball for the hoop and then the ball reversing direction and hitting them ungracefully in the face. He grinned for a moment and continued to speak, "As for other powers, I'm 50/50. On one hand I'm interested to see how it will go and observe the general chaos of trying to play a game that was never meant to be played outside the confines of baseline abilities. On the other, it may prove to be ultimately futile." He shrugged as if the question was largely academic to him - which it was. "If anyone is telekinetic, for example, they wouldn't need to dribble at all. Imagine someone shooting from half-court and the ball just weaving through the air until it scored a cool three points."

"I don't really have a lot of choice about my powers, but I don't think I'll be getting heavy or anything.  Don't know how that would help."  The group turned a corner.  "The science guys were telling me that a name goes a long way, making us celebrities or whatever.  I was kinda thinkin' 'Comstock' since it's the only thing out of Nevada History in middle school I can remember.  You know, like the mine?  Oh, hey."  Dillon stopped and held out a hand, concentrating hard.  From his wrist and palm, metal seemed to seep out through the skin, covering his fingers.  The silvery 'glove' grew until it was more like an oven mitt covered in jagged edges and points.  His forehead throbbed slightly, a slight euphoria overtaking him.  "Hurts.  That's about my limit right now."

Thinking, Dillon turned to Prodigal.  "We got limits, you know?  I mean, there's probably a ceiling, and those things," Dillon pointed to Prodigal's wings, "are pretty big and probably get stuck on doorways and stuff."

Flashes a brief, timid look before taking Imp's hand and shaking it firmly "Phantasm. Hi. And yeah, I obviously agree on the name thing."
Turning to the crowd in general, and speaking in a serious, quiet voice:
"I personally think people should just use powers if they have them. Isn't like some people can turn them off... How do you suddenly get more clumsy, ya know?  And games are a good way to learn things."
Not waiting to find out if anyone cared what she had to say, she turns to Comstock, looking at his now metalic hand:
"oh... Are you a shapeshifter then?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:25, Thu 02 Apr 2009.

Imp stares at the metal hand.  "That's cool.  Very cool. And yeah, clearly we can't get clumsier or weaker, i think.  But a friendly game yes?  No lightening bolts or eathquakes or tsunamis, deal?"

Samuel had decided to shadow the group so he wouldn't get too far behind; he'd like to get a chance to see basketball since he's never played. If these powers really are natural, he wondered as he looked at his tendril, then why does this thing always act like it has a mind of it's own? The tendril then reached out and scorched a question mark onto the wall. He glared at the thing and said "Y-You're not h-he-helping."

With some effort, Dillon managed to restore his normal shape.  "Nah, I just ... I can draw the silver out." He really didn't understand very well himself.  "The doctors at the screening had some words for it.  I get worked up and I go more and more metal.  Saved me from some wicked falls.  So, uh, do you change?  Like, faces and stuff?"



"Deal."

A sign overhead advertised 'Dining Commons,' and Dillon entered, found a table, and began looking around for chow.  "I kinda just wanted to get useful again.  Save the world and get some education.  This is all pretty weird for me."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:12, Thu 02 Apr 2009.