InFamous [In-Character]

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Bella was at the point full of anger. These just thing Bella was a dumb, naïve actress out of her element. In s lot of ways, they were right.

"I know my life as I know it over. Unlike two, however, I don't have the luxury of hiding who I am. I lost that years ago. I don't mind code names, but, I'd feel a lot safer and easier to trust you all if I a least knew your first names."


@Krieg @Borkasu Lazer @Verite @Lulunopia @SilentxChaos @Klutzy Ninja Kitty @Jeremi @Enigma @Atomyk​
 
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Luciana had to chuckle at Garrott's quip towards the man calling himself Glass-Mason. She hadn't for an opinion of her own about him just yet though.

"Maybe I just think my real name is dumb?" She responded to Bella. "The truth is that I don't trust you, I don't trust anyone here. I was this close to wearing a mask today." Luciana pulled out the mask from her bag to show it. "You can trust, that's fucking great, but I can't. Not yet anyway."


@Josh M @Enigma @Borkasu Lazer
 
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In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.

As Ethan simply stood there by himself initially, he couldn't help but ponder over what kind of person went through the trouble of inviting every Conduit they could find in possible hopes of unifying and leading them? Or at least, that was what the blonde man could assume. Did this person think them all to be so lost that a blind man could lead them? Or rather, perhaps in this case, it was them who were the blind ones.

The questions only continued to pile up the longer Ethan stuck around, the man repeatedly tapping his own leg as he idly stood, looking around and further examining the people who came alongside him, notably some person who could enter and even win a Bella Horvath lookalike contest that caught his attention, Ethan having known of the celebrity through the television programs he consumed in his downtime which he pretended for research sessions, though even the thought of the real Bella Horvath being there seemed incomprehensible to him.

Ethan blinked when someone in the crowd of oddballs approached him from the side. Indeed, maybe it was a good idea to at least get friendly with one of the people here, so he shouldn't squander this opportunity. And who knew? Maybe this person actually was a good guy.

In that case, it'd be a rare phenomenon indeed.

"The public called me Zephyr a few times on occasion, so I suppose there's that, though... I always personally thought that sounded too mystical for my taste," the blonde man responded, "I'm personally more privy to Ozone, but... You can call me whatever, if not my real name."

Under the guise that he was still only here just out of investigative curiosity, maybe not giving his real name really was a good idea. Probably.

Glancing idly at Garrott for a moment, as though giving him the side-eye, Ethan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, focusing his attention back to the person who identified himself as Glass-Mason. "So then... Glass-Mason. Nice to meet you. What brings you to this... ah..." Cough. "... fine establishment?"

He tried his best not to call the place anything related to "dump."

"Thought this meet-up was going to be shady, but I guess it's not all that bad... yet, anyway. Wonder where the big boss is."

@Borkasu Lazer @Enigma​
 
While the stench of depression idly hung over Millennium City, not every individual under its night sky was unhappy. Namely, a young woman who went by the name of Cynthia--or Pixel as she liked to call herself now--had never been happier in her entire life than she was at this moment in time. Or, at least, that's what she liked to tell herself anyhow. And it was all thanks to her miraculous new conduit powers she had discovered.

Unlike most conduits who were ordinary humans turned freak, after Cynthia discovered her abilities it was as if the opposite reaction had occurred within her. She went from being a monster, in her own eyes, to becoming a sublime, powerful individual with all of the confidence in the world. To a person such as herself, disfigured from a childhood accident, the abilities she had learned to hide her true appearance under a mask of pixilated holograms was a godsend, karma, or something of the like. It was about damn time she had something good happen to her in life.

Feeling reborn, bright-eyed, and more self-assured then she ever had, Cynthia ditched everything she had ever been--including her old name and appearance. Cynthia wasn't her true name, nor was her present form of a dark-clothed, slender blonde. It was the name and appearance of a strong woman from one of her favorite video games. Go figure she'd want to look like someone so wonderful when her true self had been such a hopeless nobody.

With her back straight and poise in her steps, Cynthia made her way through the darkness of the night, sharing one thing in common with a few like individuals nearby: she was searching for a warehouse. More interactive with the public than she had ever been as a shut-in ordinary human, Cynthia had come across rumors of said gathering and immediately took interest. What harm was there in meeting up with like-minded individuals who had powers such as her own? For all she knew, they could teach her a thing or two, otherwise maybe she could teach them.

After a bit of searching, the young woman would finally find herself at the mysterious warehouse. She spoke the secret phrase before being allowed to enter, finding herself among a few other curious individuals. Blonde hair flowing behind her, she stepped closely to the people and placed her hands on her hips.

"And here I thought I was late, but our leader hasn't even showed up yet?" she questioned after hearing Ethan wonder where their boss was at. "Bummer. I hope this wasn't just a prank. A girl doesn't like to get herself all dressed up for nothing, you know. Anyhow, name's Cynthia, or call me by my street name Pixel. Take your pick. It isn't as if either one are my real names," she announced to the others. Her stance was straight and strong, oozing with confidence. "An elegant and beautiful lady conduit such as myself has no need to go by an appalling birth-given human name any longer, if you catch my drift, so don't even ask about it."

@Josh M @Krieg @Borkasu Lazer @Verite @Lulunopia @SilentxChaos @Klutzy Ninja Kitty @Jeremi @Enigma @Atomyk​
 
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Seriously, when was their generous host going to be here. Drips of water ran down the side of the warehouse as the space began to fill up with all sorts of people. Cramped. Stuffy. Hot. Now, the toll had risen up to at least 10 Conduits. 10 Conduits. Amazing. It was either going to be something beautiful or it was going to be a time bomb. Tick. Tick. Ticky. Boom.

Arnold finished sipping from the canteen of water, unscrewing the lid of water, as he shuffled it back inside his coat jacket. At hearing Garott, he rolled his eyes and retorted back, giving a faint smirk while he was at it.

" I'll take that as a compliment."

He paused before adding a extra word. It seemed childish but anyone who took themselves too seriously ironically were being childish.

" Boom-Boom."

Arnold snorted before looking at his blonde-haired compatriot who was sitting to the side of him. Huh. Connotations of those words probably meant that these guys powers were related with wind or air in some form or fashion. Hell, at least, it was more creative than Boom-Boom. Oh, he was never going to let that one slide. Arnold shrugged indifferently at the man's answer to his query.

" Well, then,I'll choose Ozone, then. Zephyr's a second choice but then again, I don't see you growing wings out of your back."

Arnold then paused at Ozone's question, wondering what he should say. Meh, secrecy was non-essential as of this moment. Due to the fact that only presumably Conduits were allowed at this place and a code-phrase was required to get in, he made his answer.

" Same way as you I supposed. Received a invitation when I didn't want to. Had nothing else to do and my schedule was free."

Arnold then pursed his lips before looking around the warehouse.

" Say, you are right. When is the boss going to come he-"

Then, suddenly, a statuesque lady with blond flowing locks entered through the door and barged into the middle of the group. And boy, oh, boy, wasn't she just the definition of a drama queen. His eyes narrowed as she began to make a grandiose speech, mentally checking things that pissed him off. Obsessed with clothing and her own beauty. Check. A sense of self-importance? Check. Abusing her position as a conduit? Check.

God, she was beginning to piss him off. A lot. With all the heat on Conduits at the moment, this women wouldn't definitely help improve the status of other Conduits out and around in the world.

Arnold whispered towards Ozone furtively, keeping an eye on the new arrival as she continued talking.

" Someone's off their meds today."

As she continued talking, Arnold couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out loud towards her, interrupting her in the middle of her reverie.

" Look, delusions of grandeur, love the live-action role-playing but could you please pipe down a little?"

@Klutzy Ninja Kitty, @Verite, @Enigma​
 
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Seeming to have an ego big enough to inflate the room itself, Cynthia would do little more than smirk when Arnold would tell her to quiet down. Mere words may have bothered her old human self, but after being reborn Cynthia could've cared less about what anyone said to her. She had just about heard every insult in the book when she had been human anyhow.

"How rude! You wound me, sir," she replied, placing a hand over her heart sarcastically. "I have just as much of a right to speak as anyone else in this room. Anyhow, is that how you treat a lady?" she questioned, beginning to tap her foot against the warehouse floor. "We're all conduits, no? Equals? We should all treat one another with respect. Unless, that is, you're claiming to be better than me? If so, I will prove you wrong. I'm well-versed in my abilities."

Ever since Cynthia had gained access to her powers, the woman had poured every second of her free time into experimenting with them. As she slowly mastered them, these superhuman abilities became a crutch that not only empowered her physically, but emotionally as well. A switch had been flipped in her head, causing the blonde to go from hating herself to whole-heartedly loving herself. At least, the conduit parts of herself.

@Josh M @Krieg @Borkasu Lazer @Verite @Lulunopia @SilentxChaos @Klutzy Ninja Kitty @Jeremi @Enigma @Atomyk​
 
Garrott looked at the number of people within the warehouse as he would at a dysfunctional cast of a 90s sitcom. And, right now, the highly snotty Glass-Mason and the ever arrogant Cynthia seemed as if they were made for each other. Garrott was as amused as he'd ever been but began to wonder whether anyone else would arrive. And, if not, would they just get the hell on with it? His foot began to tap impatiently, growing more rapid as the time passed.
 
One thing you can count on. You push a man too far, and sooner or later he'll start pushing back.

Ethan only gave a brief nod to what the so-called Glass-Mason was able to speak before another individual joined the conversation; a rather spunky and confident woman who introduced herself with two different names to choose from. While the woman's demeanor seemed to clash with his new acquaintance, Ethan didn't seem all that bothered by her. Confidence was not intrinsically a bad thing, at leas the way he saw it; if anything, it was a good quality to have. However, like just about anything, it simply depended on how much you held, because an extreme of anything was always bad. That said, though it seemed to push the acceptable range for his new friend, Ethan himself simply maintained his calm, cool-headed mood in the face of the so-called Cynthia, not giving any reaction, positive or negative, to Glass-Mason's snide whisper, and waited until the woman finished speaking once again before pitching in his own two cents.

"If only because we can't afford to be pit against each other in the face of those who already hate us just for being different, I agree with that sentiment, Miss... Cynthia," Ethan spoke up calmly, crossing his arms, "So that said, a fight wouldn't be a very good idea, would it? If not also because whoever invited us here didn't do so just to orchestrate coliseum matches," he continued, sliding his foot in between Cynthia and Arnold. The blonde man could only make hypotheses as to what drove Conduits to be this way, though then, the way he worded it like that, he was like a lab rat observing other lab rats.

It was difficult to remind himself that he was a "dangerous" Conduit sometimes, whether because he generally avoided using his powers if he didn't have to (if only because it was annoying trying to completely control it and understand the full nature of it) or whatever else. Thus, in this situation, he felt more like an undercover cop investigating a gang more than anything. An odd sense of isolation that he couldn't shake, no matter how many times he told himself it was unfounded. Was this what it was like to be... discriminated against? Simply for existing? He had never thought of such things before until he had become a Conduit, and... Well, in some regards, he had become even more cynical than before. Sometimes, he couldn't stand the thought of being hated not for what he did, but for who he was. Perhaps that was why he subconsciously repressed the thought of being a Conduit. But sometimes, he would reach some sort of understanding with himself that wasn't always the happiest.

Sometimes, he wondered when the time would come where he'd struggle between proving wrong those who hated and feared him for no reason, and giving them a reason for hating them.

But that was another thought for another time.

"I won't insult you by hastily telling you to calm down, so I'll just introduce myself and move on from there. I guess for now, you can just call me... Ozone, like Glass-Mason here chose to," Ethan spoke to Cynthia, pursing his lips as he realized how crude these faux names sounded, but kept at it regardless. He tapped his foot against the ground repeatedly, not so much because he was growing impatient, but rather, because he was resisting the urge to have a smoke right about now, though regardless, he attempted to keep composed, hiding his true irritation as he clenched his fists in his coat pockets.

"Anyway, what's your power? A name like Pixel leaves quite a bit to the imagination," He continued, subtly attempting to divert the topic over to the woman, whom he could easily enough conclude that herself was a topic that the woman likely enjoyed talking about. If this were anyone else asking the question, one could possibly look at it as a way to avoid any sort of conflict, though in Ethan's case, it was more of simply learning about others. One could never know too much, after all.

@Klutzy Ninja Kitty @Borkasu Lazer @Enigma​
 
Arnold pursed his lips as Cynthia replied back to him. Oh. Great. More arrogant than he thought. He kept silent throughout the speech as she continued goading him, throwing out fishing lures that would have been good bait for anyone with a awful temperament. Unfortunately, she wouldn't find it in him today.

Her next statement surprised him. A fight? He couldn't help but gulp nervously at the demand. While he wasn't an overtly sociable person, he knew his limits. He hadn't practiced with his powers in days and when he did, he nearly got killed trying to intervene in a robbery. Healing from bullet wounds was not a painless process. The main advantage of his power was the availability of the substance around. The nearby windows had silicates. Something in this room had to be composed out of silicates. Hell, maybe, he could put her a peg down, make her-

Wait. What? He looked down towards his hand and saw a small wicked thin glass blade beginning to emanate from the knuckle. All that pent up aggression and stress....Damn, this woman had a way with words. Either that or he didn't drink enough coffee. He breathed in, before closing his eyes for a second. Okay. Stop. Stop it. With concentration, he mentally forced the blade back up into his arm until it appeared normal again. Right. Swallow your pride, don't let the chick get to you. Besides, it was suicidal now that he reconsidered the offer. First impressions were important when you were meeting a bunch of people who had a similar condition to you and he didn't want to be known as the person who started fights.

He walked out towards her, standing a few feet away, before replying with a tired, acerbic tone.

" All in all, Cynthia, Pixel, whatever psuedonym you go by, I've got no time for a dick measuring contest. All I'm asking you is for some peace and serenity, all ri-"

Ozone suddenly intervened, stepping in between the both of them. Arnold decided to stay silent as Ozone took it upon himself to act as the intermediary between the currently most two strongest personalities in the entire warehouse. Perhaps, exuberant would be the right idea.

Ugh, he needed to drink more coffee. Nerves were jangled.

Arnold then looked at his time. Nearly 15 minutes had passed. Where the hell was their benefactor. He looked at Chris and the red-haired gatekeeper, the taciturn body guard staring at the gate, as he shouted a question over at him.

" Hey, red and mysterious, do you and your bouncer know what time our host is going to come exactly?"

@Klutzy Ninja Kitty , @Verite, @Atomyk​
 
Luciana was listening silently to the people coming in. She wasn't really interested to speak up for the time being. As of right now the expectation of something going down in the warehouse was making her concerned. While this was only supposed to be a gathering of people with powers, nothing was stopping this to going south. Especially the mention of Bella's boyfriend being a cop.

SWAT could be here at any moment.
 
Eyeing up Arnold, the blonde could easily tell he had become tense over her words. While she wasn't looking for a fight, in all honestly, if he threw the first punch she wasn't going to hesitate with fighting back. Part of her yearned for moments where she could fight, moments where she could stretch her superhuman abilities and show off her skills in front of others. Still, she didn't want to get anything started while they were waiting for their boss to arrive. She was here to impress their leader and see what this whole gathering was about. She wasn't here to look like a thug.

"My thoughts exactly. I'd much rather have peace," Cynthia first replied to Arnold before glancing to Ethan. She looked down at the foot he slid between them, taking a step back to demonstrate her willingness to agree. "Don't worry, I didn't plan to actually start a fight. Classy ladies don't pick fights with other people for no reason, even if said person was a tad rude."

Although remaining passive, Cynthia appeared very amused by this whole thing. She treated this situation as if it were a game, and the other individuals standing around her were NPCs of some kind. Perhaps it was a side effect from having been a shut-in gamer for most of her life as a human. Or perhaps it was due to the fact her conduit powers were actually related to games in some manner. Nevertheless, she seemed somewhat pleased when Arnold would move his attention over to the gate-keeper, as if she had won some sort of confrontation.

"Ozone, huh? Not bad, I like it," she replied back to Ethan, noticing the blond male's agitation as she did. She didn't really know what was bothering him, nor did she really care. Cynthia continued on with their conversation. "I don't really have a proper term to describe what my powers are, but they have to do with technology. I like to think of them as... video manipulation. I can absorb power from any pixilated monitor and fire pixilated projectiles in return. I have several more tricks up my sleeve as well, but i'd rather not reveal all of my secrets just yet."

"How about yourself? What can you do, blondie?" she questioned him. "Judging by your name I'd guess your abilities have something to do with air or, no, maybe gasses. Ozone is a gas if I'm remembering right."

@Verite @Borkasu Lazer​
 
The young woman Arnold had so graciously dubbed as "red and mysterious" had returned inside the building following Cynthia's arrival. She sighed at his question, crossing her arms as she hesitated on a specific answer. "He won't be coming to us," she said after a moment. "You'll be going to him. He's in the building, but you know, just above us. I guess it's about..." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone, looking at the screen for a moment. "Yeah. About time. Honestly, I wasn't expecting so many to show up and a few might still be coming late, so I mean--"

She stopped herself short and stuffed away her phone before moving back toward the door. Chris opened it up for her to head out once again, but she planted a hand on the metal and waited a moment. "Chris will escort you upstairs where it's a bit comfier. I need you guys to know I'm trusting you a lot here. I hope you're all Conduits, and if you're not... well, this is not a threat, but there are Conduits here ready to defend themselves if need be, whatever your intentions. We won't make you guys put on any kind of display to prove yourselves because I know that can suck and I know some of you might not even have gifts that work like that. So just work with us here... and we'll work with you."

With that, she ducked under the door but seemed to have one more thing to say as she poked her face out of the opening. "And, uh, my name's Theresa, okay? I'll still be out here in case more arrive."

The roll-up door was closed and, as Theresa had said, Chris moved to lead the group to one of the exit doors of the storage room. He said nothing on the matter and had no interest in responding to any comments thrown his way, keeping quiet as he led the group up two flights of stairs to the building's third floor. Exiting the stairwell here brought the group to an open room that still contained a few scattered office cubicles. Chris went to the right, toward an open door where a light was emitting from inside, and stopped by the entrance so that the group had to pass by him as they entered the room. He gave the door a knock before allowing the group to pass.

Inside was an oval table surrounded by office chairs, giving the impression of some kind of meeting room. A male stood at the head of the table, who nodded to the group as they arrived. "Welcome," he said after clearing his throat. He was tall, with dark skin and short, brown hair. He filled out the suit he was wearing but was nowhere near the size of Chris. He didn't look too intimidating considering he seemed to be in his younger twenties and looked upon the group as if surprised at how they appeared.

"There's more of you than we expected, but there's enough room," he said, gesturing to the chairs around the table. He took a moment to size up the group, looking each of them over in turn. Once everyone seemed settled in whatever manner they chose, he continued, "There's no exact science to a meeting like this, so here's what we'll do: let's do some proper introductions, then you can toss any questions you have my way. We'll see what happens when Theresa decides to join us."

He moved then to sit, taking the chair at the head of the table and folding his hands on top of the faded wood. "To get this out of the way, some of you may or may not recognize me. I guess if you've lived in this city for a while, then maybe..." He looked away for a moment, eventually looking back to eye Bella. "Well, I recognize you, Miss Horvath. It's probably mutual, considering we move in the same circles... You see, everyone, my name's Daemond Wright. My father's the CEO of Wright Pharmaceuticals, which got its start here in Millenium City. He's a big man around these parts, but also kind of an asshole just so you know. He doesn't know that I've bought this building thanks to the property in Newport becoming pretty cheap. He also doesn't know I've got one of his bodyguards working with me." He nodded toward Chris, who nodded back.

"Any one of you could probably ruin my life with the knowledge that I'm a Conduit, which only Chris and Theresa knew beforehand. So here I am, being upfront in the hope that it gets some level of trust between us going. Does that sound good to you all?"​
 
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As the Conduits were led into the new area, Luciana was still uneasy about all of it. With the reveal of their host she became even more. When Daemond offered a seat she declined.

"I'll stand if that's okay." She wanted to sound firm and intimidating with her folded arms and sharp look, but she came off more sheepish in her half whisper. As far as introductions went. Better get that out of the way. "You can call me Vivisection. In fact...I'd prefer it."

 
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Despite his annoyance at Cynthia's comments, Arnold stayed his tongue to be used for better purposes, grinding his teeth as he kept his patience. He couldn't help but roll his eyes or snort at some of Cynthia's comments about herself. Classy lady. As if. After all, what defined classy than barging into a room and announcing yourself out loudly to the rest of the patrons. Desperate and begging for attention was more likely than class. Arnold gave a quick reply before looking to the side at a nearby gutter that dripped water into a small puddle, slowly forming on the concrete floor.

" Of course, madam. Would you like me to roll out the carpet for you next time you enter a room?"

And, of course, came the show and tell routine that seemed so common around here. Cynthia's description of her abilities wasn't the most weirdest thing that he heard about people like him could potentially do. Conduits who could control paper. Acid. Wire. Steel. Wood. And him? Glass. Hell, he'd even heard of a conduit who could control paint as a power. Besides, the powers didn't matter. It was the person behind the power that mattered. He'd seen paramilitary corporations gunning down conduits like it was nothing. He'd nearly died from the explosion that gave his powers. He nearly got murdered by two-timing gang members.

Power without the wisdom to use it was a bitch.

Then, a reply from Red and Mysterious interrupted his thought process for a moment. Arnold stood miffed, not expecting the sudden reply so quickly. Or so conveniently for that matter. Hell, it'd been about 30 minutes or so and despite the countless questions spoken around him of when the hell the boss was going to get here, it'd been now. He took out his water canteen and took another sip of water to soothe his parched throat as he waited patiently for the gatekeeper to finish her phone-call.

As she continued speaking to the large group of Conduits and Chris took it up upon initiative to lead them to their benefactor, Arnold couldn't help but smirk at the name. Theresa? Well, Red and Mysterious was better anyway. It'd grown onto him too much. Before Theresa ducked under the door, Arnold saluted her, waving a bye before giving a final snarky comment.

" Better late than never, Red and Mysterious."

The group was led up to a maze of hallways, stairways and office cubicles that were left dilapidated and abandoned for some time. Plastic wrapping was hung over various pieces of furniture while the fluorescent lights had lost all power, staying dark and gloomy. Eventually, Arnold's breathing sharpened as they reached a door that was glowing bright on the edges. Right. This was it. Arnold steeled himself for anything, his hands clenching at the ready, ready to blast anyone to heck when that door opened. As the hinges whined, what he saw calmed him down substantially.

Later, he was sitting on a chair, still trying to comprehend what had just been spoken to him. All in all, it sounded like a extremely average plot to a TV Show. The son of a pharmaceutical CEO bringing together a group of individuals, individuals with strange powers like him, in order to....Wait, what were they supposed to do? So many questions were needed to be answered as he twiddled his thumbs.

Heh. Vivisection. That was at least better than Boom-Boom. Oh, he was never going to live that one down.

At the end of Daemond's introduction, Arnold raised a hand up before speaking towards him, regarding him with his best poker face possible while staying his tongue. He didn't want to piss off a rich Conduit. Despite the arrival of Conduits in the world, the best thing before that was money. The last thing on his agenda was to tweak the nose of a son of a rich pharmaceutical. Arnold spoke in a calm fashion while trying to avoid any sarcasm as possible.

" Agreed. So, could you explain why you put all the effort of making this meeting happen in the first place?"

@Atomyk, @Klutzy Ninja Kitty

​
 
Garrott listened to both Theresa's trust explicit explanation of who she and Chris were of who she was and what the group was there for. She'd won his trust for sure, not from the words themselves but the way she said them and her eyes. Her eyes were clear and strong like she had no need to lie. And, in an odd twist of events, Garrott found himself enjoying looking at Chris and his burly, tall, strong...yeah. He followed closely behind him up to a meeting chamber.

And then he got the biggest shock of his career as a detective. Daemond Wright, the heir to one of the biggest global pharmaceutical companies, was a freaking Conduit. Garrott's mouth hung open almost comically at the revelation and almost immediately he suspected that Wright Pharmaceuticals didn't have a far place behind all this. You weren't just the Prince of Medicine without anybody knowing something about how your body worked. Garrott would have to just put a pin in that suspicion for now. He listened to the complete introduction of the head honcho, then the introduction of Vivisection(who was growing on him).

And then Paper Cup opened his trap and asked one of the stupidest questions that could have been asked at that very point in time.

Sighing very loud and dramatically, Garrott had to refrain from releasing built up energy from agitation and releasing it on this bozo.

"They want to build a team, you twit. Like the Justice Leauge, but cooler and real...although I'm more of a Harley fan myself." He approached Daemond on the side that Chris was on, both as a sign of good will and just an excuse to look at Chris some more. "Garrott Devlyn, Private Eye, but you can call me Breaker. I can manipulate energy. I say energy because I've roughly got the hang of two types of energy so far. "
 
That was not the reply he was expecting to hear. Arnold jolted slightly, as he looked across at Boom Boom who had just replied to him with one of the most.....brilliant answers ever. God, how could he have been such a idiot? Superheroes? I mean, it wasn't totally out of left-field or anything. It wasn't a ridiculous idea that had no chance in hell working at all. Arnold looked at him with one eye raised upwards, not saying anything, as Boom Boom approached the side of Daemond, introducing himself and his powers. Hoping to gain grand-standing with the big boss? Despite the fact that he was looking at Chris quite...., okay, don't assume, assuming makes a ass out of you and me, as the old adage went.

Arnold was still staring at Boom Boom, even though his real name was Garrott, wondering whether the incident had cooked his brains as well. Arnold took another sip of water before putting the tumbler on the table and forcing himself to speak towards Garott in a calm , respectful tone, rubbing his tired eyes for a bit before looking at the three men situated in front of the main table.

" Look, Garott, " Arnold breathed out the name as if he hated saying it. " I sincerely hope you're wrong because every one of us becoming vigilantes puts a target on our back. You're saying that the point of this meeting was to make us into a superhero team. That we, Conduits, should take the law in our own hands without any real life repercussions. In a city where anti-conduit beliefs brew like a cauldron-cake. Where our actions could be used against us. "

Arnold then waved all around the room, pointing to each and every single person before landing his eyes back on Daemond and Garott.

" Look, you're a Private Eye. I get that this might stem from your profession. But, the world is not like a comic book. You've probably read that great power, great responsibility shill from Spider-Man. Look, Garrot, some of us just want normal lives and don't want to endanger ourselves. I work at a convenience store. Some of these people probably have normal careers. I'm not looking to strap on a spandex suit and go out saving the world. I'm not a vigilante. I'm not trained. "

Arnold looked at Daemond, staring right into both of his eyes while signing briefly, catching his breath.

" Look, Mr Wright, I'm tired. I need coffee desperately. My next shift's at 7 tomorrow. If you are genuinely trying to create a team of superheroes, I'm opting out unless you can convince me. If you're thinking about something else other than what Mr Garott over here has to say, I'm all ears."

@Enigma , @Atomyk​
 
Daemond seemed surprised at first when Luciana insisted on being referred to by a nickname. He looked up at her, mouth open as if to speak, and eventually nodded. "I understand why," he said, his gaze moving down to look at his hands. "But forgive me if I'm a bit disappointed. The media seeks to prop us up as others. They single us out, out us, and give us names to call us by that I frankly feel erases us as individual people. I'm Daemond Wright first, a Conduit second. I don't plan to be seen in public as a Conduit, and so, for now, I'm not taking another name, whether it be one I come up with or someone else's name for me."

Letting out a heavy breath, Daemond leaned back in his seat, resting his arms on the sides of the chair. "But if you feel otherwise, I will not argue with you."

He waited then as Arnold spoke up, but before he could formulate a proper response, Garrott answered for him. Daemond smiled stiffly at the man and stood to meet him with a handshake. "Thanks, Garrott, but I'm afraid you're getting a bit ahead of us here. Vigilantism is a big step. One that I don't think can be proposed until we've talked a bit more." He sat back down and nodded to Arnold, who more-or-less said what Daemond's thoughts on the matter were.

"I'm not trying to create a team of superheroes. I'm trying to bring together people who I think need each other. My question to you would be: why did you come? Why did you go out of your way to come to a meeting that you knew was for Conduits, despite the danger?" He stared at Arnold evenly, despite the concern that edged into his voice. "Personally, I just wanted to see this kind of thing happen. I think I needed it. Call me selfish, but where else can people like us talk openly?"

He moved his hands, gesturing to both Garrott and Arnold at once. "You both have something to say here, and I see the point in what you're both putting forward. Our image is tarnished by fear and destruction, so is there merit in us trying to reverse that image? Do we risk our lives for the sake of such an image? If Theresa was here, I'm sure she'd agree with Mr. Devlyn, but I'm more inclined to side with you. But, who knows, really? Is that even possible without compromising our private identities? I'm open to the possibility. A part of you must want more if you're here at all."

 
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"Good, then don't question what I do or don't. Cabrón." Luciana responded back her curse at the end not louder than a whisper. Despite wanting to be a rebel she still hadn't found that fire inside her to freely speak her mind.

At least for most of the time. "Obviously what we need is a focus group on how to make Conduits more attractive. I know, with each new Conduit you befriend you get a new car!" The sarcasm in Luciana's voice was evident. "If a person's skin color makes people shit their pants, what does someone with powers do? I get it. I totally get it. We could cure AIDS and cancer tomorrow and people would still treat us like shit." That was a mouthful, but at least she managed to get everything out with out being awkward about it.

"And I don't see that changing any time soon." She sighed in frustration. "But I'm here...for now."


 
The trouble with wanting something is the fear of losing it, or never getting it.

A part of Ethan almost regretted not having a notebook and a writing utensil handy to jot down Cynthia's abilities, like a student who forgot his supplies to the professor's lecture, but he figured he could at least remember the general gist of what the blonde woman spoke. He didn't really want to keep wary of everyone around him, as none of them seemed all that bad, but after becoming a Conduit and knowing how easily people's attitudes could change, he figured he could never be too careful in this kind of life, and he got the sense that the others around him at least harbored a similar train of thought.

"I suppose that's the best way one could easily summarize it. Yeah, the name speaks for itself. Might not sound all that practical at first, but... A magician never reveals his secrets," Ethan said, as though intending to mirror Cynthia's withholding of the full extent of her own abilities. If he cracked a smile, he might have even come off as whimsical, but he didn't. Only a straight face and a brief wink to boot.

Before any more could be said, the time to meet the man himself had come. Remaining silent as everyone moved by direction of Theresa and Chris, the blonde man furrowed his brow when they had finally come face to face with the man himself. The one and only Daemond Wright. Ethan had heard of him before, just like he had heard of Bella Hovarth (who apparently might not just be a lookalike of the real actress at this point). It was a surreal experience. All these widely known people, becoming Conduits. All these people formerly loved, likely treated with fear and apprehension out of nowhere simply for things that happened that they had no control over.

But that was just how the world worked. At the drop of a hat, everything could turn upside down. If life was consistent in one manner, it was the spread of misfortune.

Or so Ethan would have liked to think.

As the man revealed to the others that he was indeed a Conduit like the others around, the thought did pass through Ethan's mind for a fleeting moment of what would happen should he, or anyone else here for that matter, choose to simply reveal that information to the general public. Would he end up shunned? Disowned? Labeled an embarrassment simply for existing? And did any of them around dare find out? Wright took that gamble, and it was up to everyone to either call or fold. Still, not all of his cards were on the table just yet. It was like a card-dealer playing as well.

Continuing to let the others do the talking for the time being, as though they were stalling for Ethan to give him time to think over the prospect of becoming a "superhero," he almost had to stifle a small laugh. Or more like the gesture of blowing air from his nose. At best, he was Superman on kryptonite right now. They all were. Or rather, to be more specific...

"Justice? Hmph. I wouldn't say us banding together would brand us any sort of Justice League. If anything, we're like the X-Men, aren't we? Branded as freaks by the general populace that we have to protect from our worse half, and trying to figure out if it's us who is the worse half," Ethan spoke up, tapping his foot on the ground as he finished speaking, a side effect of not having a smoke in a small while.

And there'll come a time where we'll wonder if it matters that we're called the "worse" by people we might come to deem "beneath" us.

A man was corruptible, but an ideal was not.

One could only wonder just how committed to these sorts of ideals the people around were.

@Atomyk @Enigma @Klutzy Ninja Kitty @Borkasu Lazer @Jeremi @Josh M​
 
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God, Ozone was a neverending bag of magical wisdom, wasn't he? Arnold commented on Ozone's observation, looking at him wryly with a lop-sided glance.

" True to that, Ozzie. I guess that makes Mr Wright here Professor X if you're going for that parallel."

Chuckling slightly, Arnold leaned more backwards into his chair, taking a moment to relieve tension by cracking his knuckles, slightly wincing at the pain before tapping his fingers on the polished table for a moment, processing Wright's question. He did have a point. Why did he come. Why would someone come to a clandestine meeting such as this one with the only reassurance being that there were people similar to you?

Excuses rang out in his mind as he looked at Daemond, wondering what to say. Free schedule. Of course, it was the truth. He opened his mouth before deciding to close it. No. There had to be something more. Ever since he left Washington D.C, he'd been wandering. Left without a purpose. Broken. A pile of shards to what he once was, working in that glass shop. Looking to be refurbished. Renewed.

Once more, Foreman was the only one who could understand him. His mind. His personality. His talents. Understand his need to be something more than the average person. He'd shaped him, made him into something usable. Now? Even with his new powers, he was working 24 hours in a convenience store.

Searching for purpose. Gathering dust. And Wright could be the answer to his dilemma. Arnold answered with a soft tone, clasping his hands together, his voice slightly shaking at times.


" I came here....because of a mix of different reasons. Loneliness. Free schedule. Curiosity. There's no clear reason, Daemond. I didn't come here expecting you sitting right in front of me, you understand? Shit, you know what I was before the Incident? A Glass Smith. Apprentice to one of the finest ones in Washington D.C. Hal Foreman."

Arnold signed a little, in reminscene of good times, his eyes slightly lukewarm with nostlagia before a grimace came over his face.

" All that went to shit. Electrical incident. Gas Explosion. Call it whatever you want. Woke up in the E.R. I asked where Hal was. They told me he was in the hospital. What they didn't tell me...was that he was in the morgue."

Arnold then paused, taking a drink of his tumbler before continuing.

" And here I am. In Millineum City. As a convenience store operator. Living a meagre existence in a place where everyone wants to kill me if they found out what I really was."

Arnold then turned to looked at Garott, giving a slight glare. He began to direct his anger and grief towards him, his breathing getting harsher and harsher.

" Funnily, enough, Garott, I tried to do that superhero shit one time. You wanna know what I got in return? A newspaper smear article that dubbed me as the 'Glass-Mason',responsible for the robbery of one of Millennium City's most valuable banks and several dozen bullets in my sternum. Do you know how painful it is to remove bullets from your flesh one by-"

Arnold stopped before controlling his emotions. Okay. Enough of the self-pity. Compartmentalize yourself. Arnold nostrils flared before he clapped his hands, thinking about what to say next.

" So, yeah, vigilantism. Been there, done that. Personally, and speaking with all honesty? It's going to take a lot of work to reverse those anti-Conduit sentiments in Millennium. It's deep rooted. If we're going for vigilantism, I'll...."

Get out of a meeting where you have the potential to be something more than you are now, Lewis? Walk out on a group of Conduits, people like you?

They're not like me. He's not going to be the next messiah of Millineum City.

No, but have you ever been involved in organised Conduit activity? Have you ever taken efforts to resolve the issue. You're embroiled in this conflict, no matter how much you say you aren't, Arnold. No venture, no gain. Besides, where was the man who saved two people from getting capped in the head? Where's that guy?

That guy doesn't want to make on the front page of the newspaper headline next week as the new conduit terrorist. Besides, I'm not a hero. He just don't like people who make the world more shittier.

Semantics. Keep denying that you want this.

Arnold blurted out the last few words, as if he despised every syllable that he was uttering from his mouth.

" have to be convinced. I do want to be something more than just an average convenience store owner, but I'm pessismistic of whether this can be done."

Great. Guess he was actually going to be wearing that spandex suit for real.


@Atomyk , @Verite , @Enigma

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