The Conduit Initiative

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"I agree with the lady. Of course, I don't really have much room to talk on the matter since I had a knife made from my own bones. But I did it covertly." Victor said "sorry to say, but you're still setting a lot of alarms off for me. That being said, I still don't trust you one hundred percent."
 
Charles didn't expect trust right away, being a foreign experience to everyone in the room. They all were beginning to warm up to him which made him feel a bit more at ease. He'd explain everything once they were all together. For the meantime, while the blonde male checked up stairs for the teenager, he decided he should entertain their questions and concerns. "Sweetheart, it is ALWAYS dangerous to show that you are different. But, it is a part of us, and we shouldn't be afraid to express ourselves. Being different is who we are." He finished with a soft smile before hearing Victor speak from behind him. Victor made it clear that he didn't trust Charles completely, nor did he expect him too. "That is alright, I didn't think you would," he said with a sigh. "But, you will with time. We will spending a lot of 'quality' time together."

"Stanley?" He asked through the door with a bit of confusion. He had never heard of anyone in the building by the name of Stanley, and William certainty never spoke of the name either. No, something was wrong. All down his spine, James could just feel that something was off. This person wasn't who he claimed to be, but James knew if he divulged this knowledge, then the person on the opposite side of the door might do something drastic. James decided to lie and gain access to the room. "Oh! You must be the person William hired to watch the apartment," he said in a fake, yet convincing tone. "He mentioned you earlier this week. Would you mind if I came in? I left something in there before he left."
 
Mud frowned. "And why would we be doing that?" she asked, standing up straight now. She didn't feel shy with these people. "Why are you here, and why are we here?"
 
"We'll see about that. First part of trusting someone is knowing who they are. You damn well have us all at a disadvantage. You know us, but we don't know you from Adam. What you day is true though. It's dangerous being different from the crowd. Those that stand out get attacked first, so it's only natural to try to blend in for self preservation. I do use my abilities, but i make sure I do it covertly. In a way that wouldn't give away my gifts. Bones and wires are my tools and I made one part of me permanently changed." Victor said before he gave a toothy grin showing off his fangs for a brief moment. "I can extend my fingernails into two or three inch claws capable of cutting through steel plating. Trust me on that. I've went to a junk yard and carved up an engine without breaking a single claw." he then heard the...visually challenged girl ask her questions and nodded in agreement he wanted to know just that too.
 
"I do hate repeating myself," he said with a roll of his eyes. It was clear he meant no disrespect or insult with this, but did hate to say more then needed. "When we find that boy, I will explain everything. Myself, what I want, why you're here. You are all gifted, each one of you. From bone claws..." he said facing Victor, turning and locking eyes with Aberdeen. "...to using neon in a sign to hastily run down an alley. You each have impressive and remarkable powers. With time, and my help, you will each learn new things about your powers that you didn't know before. Everything will be revealed shortly." Once finished with his ramblings, a eery silence crept over the crowd. It was becoming awkward for everyone just sitting there, waiting for a guy they didn't know to hopefully return with a teenage boy. While they waited, there was no reason they couldn't small talk to waste time. "Now, in the meantime, tell me about yourselves. I may know your pasts, but I don't know YOU."
 
"Nothing really to tell. Been catching criminals from the shadows and going through some of the underground fight clubs for cash. End of story." Victor said with a shrug. "I already know I can do more than just claws. I'm able to generate bone spikes and bone weapons. The blade was proof of that. And no, it was not attached. Let's just say i get plenty of opportunities to practice my bone manipulation skills. But very few chances to use my wire manipulation skills. And yes, I've tested that out a time or two." he didn't mention his family had been murdered six months ago, which as far as he knew wasn't in this file he suspected the stranger had on him.
 
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Again thoughts rushed through his head. If he didn't let him in then it would,look suspicious and he might call the police to inspect the apartment, but if he did let him in then he would almost definitely see the smashed window. He had an idea, but it would be costly. He tiptoed over to the window, placing his hand on the glass he made it grow and expand till it covered the whole area. After that he stumbled back to the door, opened it, and collapsed at the feet of the boy on the other side.
 
Charles wasn't sure what he thought of Victor yet. He seemed brash and arrogant, yet focused and brave. Only time would tell if these two would be compatible. Charles nodded an said, "It's good to meet you Vic," before waiting for someone else to speak up
 
James felt the door open, expecting a tall man to appear and invite him inside, but was met with an "unconscious" boy at his feet. He jumped back in surprise as his brain caught up to what had happened. Was this the boy the man wanted? he wondered. Even if it wasn't, the boy looked like he needed help, and possible medical attention. He gingerly picked up the teenager onto his right shoulder, and hastily proceeded down the stairs.
 
Aberdeen listened to Victor as he told his story. If him catching criminals was the case, had she seen him around before? She tried digging through her skull for any indication that she had, only to come up empty-handed; it was difficult remembering anyone when she'd see so many faces in a day. Still, she had a feeling they never crossed paths. Victor finished speaking, and Aberdeen, with some reluctance, spoke.

"I've been living with some, uh... associates for the majority of my life," she said, wanting to phrase her next words carefully. "In return for their protection from the D.U.P., I've been helping them out with getting their money." Aberdeen chuckled quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm kind of a hitman. My powers come in handy for scaring people shitless, I guess." Not the best or most moral use of her powers, she knew, but she hadn't a clue what else she could've done.
 
Mud ran a hand through her short hair and listened to Victor's and Aberdeen's stories. "I haven't got much of a story," she said quietly. "I was raised by my grandmother in the country, helping her heal patients and learning about my power. I can control the earth, which comes in handy for making tunnels or a hill, boring things. I don't think I have my power down exactly, and my grandmother said I was still developing but I'm eager to learn." She blushed. "I suppose I'm boring everyone. You all have such interesting lives but all I have is some medical knowledge, the ability to move dirt and no place to go."
 
Aberdeen shook her head at Mud's apology. "No, you were smart for staying out of trouble," Aberdeen told her, giving a little nod as the ghost of a smile lingered on her mouth. "I wish I would've done that. You're not boring. Plus, medical knowledge is really useful, especially when even going to a doctor is risky." Her smile widened a tad at the girl, even though she knew she couldn't see it, before her gaze cut back to Charles.
 
Mud smiled at her words. "Thanks," she said quietly, turning back to Charles. She was growing to like this group more and more, it would be a shame when she moved on, hopefully to a hotel or a restaurant.
 
(sorry for the delay. There was a "misunderstanding.")

Charles was about to respond to their stories when a loud thud came from above them. He slowly looked up towards the ceiling as dust rained down to the floor. A few moments passed in dead silence with no one speaking a word; the only sounds being the shuffle of feet against the wooden floor, and the hesitant breaths coming from those in the room. It wasn't long that another thud echoed through the empty lobby. Then another, and another. Someone was coming down the stairs.

The child James carried was heavier than he looked. His shoulder ached and his legs wavered with each step down the staircase. Eventually, James reached the bottom to find everyone's eyes fixed on him. He set the boy down onto the floor, let out a large sigh, and looked up to meet Charles's eyes.

"Is this the boy you were looking for?" James asked through heavy breaths. "Found him inside the Penthouse Suite."

Charles walked over to the lifeless body now face down on the dirty wooden floor. He kicked him over onto his back, kneeled down, and began to study his face. A crooked smile creeped over Charles's face as he stood back up again.

"Yes," Charles began. "We now have everyone we need."
 
"Need?" she asked. "What could you possibly need us for?"
 
Charles seemed to ignore her comment for a moment as he scanned each of their faces. He found fear confusion, and interest in their eyes. It wasn't until a few moments later that he paid the blind girl any mind. He fixed his belt, placed his hands behind his back once more, and began to speak.

"I suppose it's time I tell you all why I'm here," Charles began, turning and facing the group. "My name is Charles H. Wittmore, and I am a Conduit. For years, I have been segregated for my abilities. I have been treated like trash for something I can't control... and I'm sure each of you can relate." He paused for a moment looking at each person stood in front of him. "Well, that isn't the world I want to live in. That isn't the future I want for my children... My job is to make society change their views about Conduits; make them love people like us. I have started something I call, 'The Conduit Initiative,' and I want to enlist this group to be my team."
 
"There any catches we need to know about, Charles? The rest of humanity ain't ready for us to step out into the light. They are wanting to keep us all in the dark like a skeleton in their collective closet. My brother was shot and killed when he saved a bus load of people and he was a conduit of lava. The bus was about to fall off a bridge and he formed a column of lava below it and made it cool to the touch. What did he get for his act of heroism? A bullet to the head." Victor replied "any guarantees that we will come back alive from any job we do with you? I can make my Bonness as dense as stone, but concrete, explosives and bullets can still punch through."
 
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That's a tall order, she mused at Charles' perhaps official introduction, wondering how such a task was to even begin. His cause was certainly an admirable one. A pang of remorse struck Aberdeen when she'd heard Victor talk about his deceased brother, and though she had to urge to offer her condolences, she instead pursed her lips and sank into thought. Hearing about his sibling brought back memories of her family. But she'd be damned if she allowed herself to get swamped in them now, so she decided to speak up.

"Sorry about your brother."
 
"Hey, people fear what they don't understand and the actions taken out of fear are unpredictable. That day was what made me choose to act from the shadows." Victor said "by the way, my name's Victor Markov. Most people call me hell's marksman, but my brother called me hardwire."
 
Mud ignored the others for a moment and focused on Charles, taking a step toward him. She put out her hand, touching his chest. "You have so much hate," she whispered. "And you're putting that hate into this 'team.'" She frowned and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I don't know if this is the right thing to do, forcing people to love us. And why should they?" Turning she listened to Victor's story. "We do these good things for them, and they repay us by casting us out of their society. Why, then, should we force our way back into it? Isn't there some place we can call our own?"
 
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