The Conduit Initiative

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RestlessComfort

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Did they really deserve this...? Isolation and imprisonment? War? Death? All this for something they had no control over; for something most of them have had since birth. They didn't get a choice.. In societies eyes, I guess this is somehow justice. "Bio-terrorists are dangerous," I hear throughout the city streets. "They must be stopped before they kill every last one of us!" People don't realize they aren't as scary as their made out to be. In fact, most of them are good people who only lash out to protect themselves while others hide in the shadows...afraid of what will happen if they show that their different. They are Conduits..NOT terrorists.

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What makes them so different? They are men and women like you or me, but they have a gift. Certain abilities that make them unique. All conduits share some general abilities. Every conduit has enhanced strength, durability, and stamina. They even heal 10x quicker then a normal person. However, what sets the conduits apart from each other is that they each have control over a different form of matter. Some can manipulate the water around us, while others manipulate the very ground we walk on.

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People don't see their potential to BENEFIT humanity instead of destroy it...well...I do. I plan to change the way people look at these extraordinary beings. People will cheer their names! The conduits will be loved! With a little discipline..these men and women under my care will grow to be earths protectors! My name is Charles Wittmore and I am the founder of, "The Conduit Initiative." Society better be ready; it's about to meet a new breed of hero.​
 
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James sighed as his feet dangled from the side of the apartment building. It really was a beautiful night. A light storm overhead...the pitter pat of the rain against the ground...and the stars peeking through the clouds. He had been out here since he got home from work. By now, any normal person would be soaked from head to toe. However, James wasn't a normal person. James was a conduit...one they called, "a combo." He had control of TWO types of matter. He could manipulate not only water and ice, but the shadows of the night as well. The water that fell from the clouds above seemed to hit his hair and clothing without making them wet (A result from his "gift") The droplets hit and then rolled off whatever surface they impacted. He was still completely dry, even after sitting in the rain for hours.

It was difficult transitioning into society; being different. Finding a job and a place to live without giving the inkling that he was special. It took its toll. Not being able to tell anyone what he could do. Not being able to use something that was practically a piece of him. His parents were so afraid of him when he was born that they gave him up for adoption. While he waited for a family to take him away, he was forced to live in a foster home. There, he was constantly bullied and beaten for something he couldn't control. Of course then, he only had a mediocre understanding of his powers...or should I say, power. At that age, he could only control the water that flowed through the building. His manipulation of shadows would come much later..

James began to get hungry, so he decided a trip down to the lobby would be a good call. There, they had a common living area where food was served about this time of night. He stood up, brushed the excess water from his jacket, and walked back inside. While he descended the stairs, he thought of biting into a moist blueberry muffin, getting a cup of coffee, and sitting down on the comfortable couch they provided downstairs...this thought, for a moment, made him feel happy. It lasted only for a moment though...now he was back to feeling quite empty and distraught. Finally, he reached the lobby and walked over to the food table. He skimmed over the various foods and deserts provided before grabbing a blueberry muffin from the platter and a cup of coffee. Slowly he walked to the sofa; careful not to spill his drink.
 
Mud stood in front of the tall building, soaked to the bone. Her hair was in her eyes, dripping water onto her cheeks. She didn't care, she couldn't see anyway, which was why she was barefoot in the city. She was a conduit, able to manipulate the very earth she walked on. Of course, she stood on pavement now but her bare feet could feel the vibrations in the ground, helping her to walk without assistance. Assistance was something Mud lacked, now that her grandmother was dead. From the moment Mud was born her grandmother had been there. The girl knew almost nothing about her parents, except that they were good people, and lived with her grandmother from the time she was a week old, the day her parents died, her grandmother had said, to last Tuesday when she found herself alone in the small cottage with a corpse. Her grandmother was also a conduit, able to manipulate blood. She was a healer, a witch doctor to most, and taught Mud what she could but earth-manipulation was her real talent and though she was young and still had trouble controlling her power, she was eager to learn more.

The girl had walked for miles from her grandmother's cottage way out in the country to the city in hopes of a new life. She was strong but shy and because of that may not have gotten very far by herself. She was expecting to make it to a different country, one that didn't stare or harm her because of her talent, but her empty stomach and aching feet forced her to stop in this city. She stood on the side of the street, hoping to catch the scent of food in the air, feeling for little vibrations in the ground which could mean a dry place to rest.
 
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Aeny was slumped on the floor of a grotty ginnel under the ground. Graffiti adorned the walls and the disposed litter that surrounded his temporary abode was dirty and broken. Cans of soda recklessly tossed aside, newspapers that were out of date lay crumpled and soaked. This wasn't a pleasant place. Above him a light flickered. It was the third time it had done it in the last two minutes. It was irritating him. He held out his hand and the bulb inside cracked. The light went off.

He stayed slumped, not even bothering to check if anyone saw his trick with the lightbulb. He was a Conduit. Born with special powers. They had been both a curse and a blessing, he guessed. Without them he would be dead, but with them he was dying. The average life expectancy of a conduit isn't high, many don't live past their teens. You would be shunned by society if anyone found out your secret. Aeny didn't care, society shunned him anyway.

He could hear the rain falling heavily on the ground above him. He stood up shakily, knowing now was the time to move. In a couple of minutes this underground tunnel would be flooded with escaping rain water, forming a stream down towards the sewer. As this crossed his mind he gave out a thought for those who lived in the sewers themselves. They would be lost tonight.

He headed up onto the surface. The bustle of the city was lessened by the rain, but the traffic was as bad as usual. Taxis honked impatiently at the traffic lights opposite him. The rain was beating down on his head, soaking through his already dirty clothes. He spotted a lobby with an open door and dived towards it, for much needed shelter.

That was when the 6 foot tall guard stepped out of the shadows, blocking his way.
 
Pulling her dark coat closer to her body, Aberdeen pursed her lips, rain pattering her hood to trail down her shoulders and drip on the concrete. Normally, she'd relish a storm like this, but with her having a close brush with the D.U.P., she couldn't fool around gawking at the sky. Anonymity was her main priority. Her eyes flickered up from the sidewalk to spot an open lobby; she hadn't hesitated in walking to the building, but she halted at its entrance when a guard blocked her and a boy's way, forcing her into an immediate brainstorm. Shooting a false apologetic smile at the guard, she bunched up her shoulders, crossing her arms.

"Sorry to bother you, but I think there's someone suspicious around back," she lied, but slapped on the most believably distressed expression she could muster. The guard's brows lifted, a bit dubious. "I think it's that bioterrorist that's been lurking around, but I can't tell for sure. Can you please go give it a look? I don't want to have to bother the D.U.P. if it's not actually him." She wasn't even sure what kind of bioterrorist she was talking about -- hell, she hated that term, but people responded quickly to the "Conduit threat".

The guard thought about it for a moment, brows pinched together, before giving a nod, sighing, and taking off. After he left, Aberdeen tipped her chin at the boy before entering, gesturing he should follow if inside was where he wanted to be. Despite her nervousness, she managed to display a calm exterior as she meandered over to a food table. She figured if she at least acted like she belonged, she'd lessen the chances of being caught. She examined the food, wondering why they needed so much variety, and swiped up an apple.
 
It had been a long night in the pit. Rent was due tonight, and Seamus had to find a way to pay it. The pit was where the scum of the town came together under ground to bare knuckle box. Although he didn't like to fight, Seamus knew he had to in order to stay afloat. No normal job would take in "someone like him." Walking toward the apartment complex he had lived in for a year now, his mind raced. He was focused on next weeks fight. As he walked down the alley, he continued to flick a zippo lighter open and shut -- calming his thoughts before he had make the transition into looking normal. He knew his landlord would pester him about rent as soon as he walked in the door. At least today, Seamus had the money. This wasn't always the case. Many times, Seamus was broke when his landlord demanded the money. The only thing Seamus was worried about tonight was keeping his new scars and bruises concealed..so his landlord wouldn't ask about them.

Seamus suddenly felt the strangest feeling as he progressed down the alley -- pulling his jacket up around his neck to protect it from the rain. But the cold chill down his spine was not from the rain. It was from the feeling of being watched....someone was following him. Seamus stealthfully looked over his shoulder to find a dark figure in pursuit behind him. It didn't matter who was following him, no one wanted people like him around. Seamus quickly changed course to a smaller alleyway just to the right of him. As he turned the corner, he heard the footsteps behind him quicken and draw closer. He knew exactly what he had to do.

He spotted a lone brick lying upon the ground. Being a shapeshifting conduit, he knew he couldn't turn into anything he didn't see. This brick was the best bet he had. His body began to change and contract into the shape and form of the brick. Once completely changed, he slid under a pile of cardboard. Whoever was following him must have fell for it, because after a few moments of searching, they left the area. Once he knew the coast was clear, he changed back and headed home at an increased speed. The fear of nearly being found out drove his motivation. He entered the apartment behind a small boy and confident women. He went straight to the buffet. After this night, he needed a release.
 
Mud sniffed the air, which had the strong scent of a variety of food, the strongest being coffee. Oh, how she loved coffee. She let her feet guide her toward the scent, weaving her way through the crowded street expertly until she could no longer feel the rain on her short hair. She pushed it out of her face, walked toward the smell of coffee and groped for a cup, pouring herself some. Finding a corner to stand in she warmed herself with the smooth, black coffee, feeling the vibrations of the other people in the room.
 
James eventually made it to his seat with coffee and muffin still intact. He sat upon the leather exterior, set the coffee mug down on the table, and proceeded to bite into the delicious-looking muffin. As he made contact, the muffin broke apart into small crumbs that riddled his lap and the floor beneath him. Jason began to scan the room as he chewed his food. There was a lot of new and interesting people in the lobby today. Usually, this place was barren of life. Many times, James found himself enjoying dinner alone. However, today was different. There were at least 5 other people in this room besides him, and all seemed to stand out in their own way. The boy who slipped in while the guard was away seemed very small. He looked very nervous about being around so many people. Why was such a young kid alone? He wondered.

The women around his own age looked very attractive and open to the others in the room. She seemed friendly and social. The other girl, looking to be the youngest in the lobby, seemed to parallel the boy in some ways. She seemed shy...and Jason also got the feeling she was perhaps disoriented. She seemed to bump into things and not necessarily know where she was going. The only other person who stood out was a large red headed gentlemen whose face looked beaten and bruised. None of these people looked familiar to him. They certainty weren't tenants here -- and if they were, he'd never seen them around. He turned his attention back to his meal; enjoying the sounds of a bustling living area.
 
Mud finished gulping her coffee and wiped her mouth with her damp jacket. Through the vibrations in the ground she could see most everything that was around her, including the people in the lobby as well. Almost all of them looked out of place, save a man also having a cup of coffee with a muffin. Mud set down the empty mug and padded toward the fireplace, warming her hands and clothes while trying to stay invisible. She wasn't used to so many strangers, but the strangers she had known from visiting town with her grandmother thought less of Mud because she was blind. The truth was that her impairment helped her become a better conduit and she was actually more alert than most people. Her toes wiggled as the feeling came back to them and her hair began to dry. As soon as the rain stopped she would continue on her journey, the journey that didn't have an end.
 
Aeny slipped in after the guard left, doing a quick observation of the layout of the room. There was food to the left and, whilst he was starving, he couldn't get distracted so easily. The lobby seemed to be fairly isolated which was perfect for him. At the other end of the lobby was a fireplace, one of the actual tenants was sat down on the sofa next to it. On the right of the lobby there was two bronze coloured elevators and a grubby looking flight of stairs. He quickly manouverred past the others in the room and bounded up the stairs.

When he eventually got to the roof he was panting somewhat from the long climb. The rain was still falling but he let a smile loose when he felt the wind on his face. This was exactly what he needed. He waved his hand slightly and the wind started to blow the rain away from him, keeping him dryer than he would have been otherwise.

After doing that he moved over to the edge of the roof. Lookin over the lip of the building he could see the large window of the penthouse below, just within reach. As he reached out his hand the large pane cracked and then, upon his touch, shattered, falling out of the window towards the empty street below. Now was the difficult bit. He jumped off the edge.

As he fell past the window he moved his hands violently, calling up a huge surge of wind behind him, pushing him through the empty window and rolling on the plush, carpeted floor of the apartments penthouse.
 
After taking a bite of the apple, her eyes swept the room. The room seemed oddly populated; was it always so full? Aberdeen supposed it didn't quite matter, but with the diversity of the people in the lobby, it was hard not to find her surroundings misplaced. Don't be so paranoid, she thought, shaking her head. Did you expect similarity in a city like this? In an effort to ease her nerves, she poured herself a cup of coffee, drowned it in cream, and took a sip, her apple still clenched in her other pale hand. Her internal placidity was short-lived.

Above the juice machine, the fluorescent light began to flicker. It was only then that she realized how hard she was squeezing the apple, and how hard her heart was pounding against her ribcage -- she immediately eased her grip. A few steadying, quiet breaths escaped her lungs, and along with the beat of her pulse, the light slowed its flickering until it once again settled into its balanced illumination. Now is the absolute worst time for my powers to be acting up, are you kidding me? Aberdeen, throwing away the barely consumed apple, continued drinking her coffee, acting as if she hadn't even noticed the light.
 
James neared the end of his late dinner. His mouth was coated in post Blueberry Muffin evidence, and his coffee neared the bottom of the cup. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his wrist-watch. It was exactly 11:22 -- it was getting late. None of the other people seemed to be getting fatigued. They appeared to be night owls stopping in for something to eat before going back out on the town. They all looked different in a way. Most looked nervous and fearful of something while the others looked out of place in their surroundings. He stood, brushed the crumbs from his mouth and clothes, then began walking over to the trash can by the receptionist's desk. He threw away the paper towel the muffin was sitting on and the Styrofoam cup that previously held his coffee. After everything was cleaned up from his dinner, he decided it was time for bed. It was going to be a long and early day tomorrow. He was already behind his sleep schedule. James began to ascend the stairs....until, something stopped him. A feeling that crept down his spine and made him return to the lobby. Something...wasn't right.​
 
((DOUBLE POST))​

Suddenly, the feeling in the room begins to change. The tension begins to mount and it becomes apparent something is wrong. People in the lobby, including the receptionist, start to file out of the building. The lights flicker and the room becomes darker then before. There are 4 people left in the still, silent living area. All of a sudden, the front door abruptly swings open -- allowing a gust of wind interlaced with water particles to sweep inside. A shadow approaches and looms in the oak doorway. It appears to be a man with a long trench coat, but it's hard to make out any distinguishable features through the darkness. The man begins to make his way towards the group of young men and women​
 
Mud could feel the wind and saw through her feet what was going on. She wondered why there were still people left in the lobby, but she then realized she was one of those people. Just when she was about to make a break for it a tall man blocked her way. She panicked and began to run toward the nearest exit, the stairs, but she tripped over the tablecloth of the buffet table, falling onto the wooden floor and knocking the coffee dispenser onto the ground as well, burning her feet and hands, the rest of her body protected by her jeans and jacket. Now it would be hard to see, she thought as she crawled under the table to hide, her second best defense.
 
Aeny lies on the floor. The impact of the fall winding him, leaving him struggling for breath. Far below he can hear the glass shatter against the pavement. As he pulls himself to his feet he looks around. The room is lavishly decorated, painting adorn the wall, the fireplace is made of marble and and is flecked with gold, the dinnerware is all pure silver. This is the jackpot. He quickly starts grabbing stuff he can fit in his pockets. Jewellery, coins and notes mostly, though he did swipe a rather nice gold watch. That was when the lights started to flicker. He looked around. It felt darker. He didn't know what was happening. He was stuck.
 
On the flip of a dime, the hairs on the back of Aberdeen's neck rose. A cold, wrong feeling coated the air so thick she found it hard to breathe, with her stomach inverting and a chill raking down her spine. Something must've actually been off, because people were filing out of the building, save a few others that had, for whatever reason, stayed. Including her. Mustering all the courage she could, she turned. Approaching in their direction was an ominous figure in a trench coat, face masked in shadows and intent unknown. Aberdeen raised her hand to absorb the neon from the lights. Anonymity was out the window.
 
James stopped dead in his tracks while beads of sweat formed and fell from his brow. A cold chill traveled down his spine and his heart dropped as the shadow approached. The shadow did appear to be a man, shorter then he was, but James wasn't aware of his motivations or intent. He stayed perfectly still, frozen in fear, awaiting the shadow to state its business. Everyone else in the lobby was frozen as well, like deer in headlights, not sure what they were waiting for. He didn't know these people, but right now, they were in a bewildering situation together. There was only one thing that James could distinguish about the man. He was smoking a cigar. The light near his mouth and the smell of smoke in the air proved this. He wasn't sure what to do, so he remained still and silent.

Charles approached the group of men and women in the lobby with an examining gaze, his heavy foot steps echoing through the room. He had traveled many days to arrive in this exact spot at this exact time. The lights flickered once again, then returned to full brightness revealing Charles's face. He was a well dressed man with flecks of grey staining his darker brown hair and a scar that stretched from his brow down the left side of his face.

His body was very fit and his eyes were cold and calculated. He took another puff from his cigar and looked around the room -- at the people that stood in front of him. His stance was very regal and his posture was extraordinary. Both hands remained behind his back as he stood waiting -- waiting for someone to speak up. He knew what these people were and he knew this was the crowd he was looking for. This was to be his team.

When he finished studying the room, he realized something was missing -- an important piece of the puzzle. He glanced across the room one more time before speaking. He cleared his throat and spoke in a deep and masculine voice. "Where. Is. The boy," he bellowed.
 
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Mud lifted the tablecloth a little and put her burnt feet on the ground. She hadn't seen a boy, or felt him for that matter. Her heart beat a little slower as she realized the man didn't want to harm her. Still, she kept quiet as she usually did.
 
Seamus had awoken from his blankend mind state to see that the number of people in the lobby had diminished. This brought to Seamus' attention the man in the trench coat. The feeling of deja vu had hit him. Something was about to happen, but was it going to be good or bad? Seamus didn't feel threatened ath this point in time, but an escape route is a feeling of security. He then looked for a nearby room to slip to if need be.
 
The boy? she wondered, brows pinched. Her mind went in a frantic search through her memories, trying to find who this mysterious man could've possibly wanted. The rugged boy? Aberdeen's eyes flickered around the room, and he was nowhere to be seen; strange, since she could've sworn he came inside after her, and it didn't seem like he left the building. Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, she threw out her voice. "Why do you need him?"
 
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