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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis
Subject: Preston - Lightning is God's Weapon: Job 36:32-33
March 10, 2014 07:35:00 GMT
Half a mile west and half a mile above Puerto Casado, Paraguay, South America
“…He covers his hands with the lightning, and commands it to strike the mark. Its crashing tells about him; he is jealous with anger against iniquity…”
“You’re repeating that Bible verse in your head again,” Dweeb’s voice crackled in his ear-piece, “aren’t you, D?”
“…His thunderings speak awesomely concerning Him; the cattle are told of His coming storm…”
“No..” Preston grimaced within the confines of his helmet, “Yeah…”
“Didn’t you tell me something, once, about turning things over to God instead of trying to figure them out for yourself,” Dweeb’s voice scratched through the perpetually underlying static.
Preston Smith’s grimace wound itself into something of a smile at that; “I probably did. Have I ever told you, though, that I hate this helmet?” He didn’t really hate the thing, of course. It was a rather clunky affair – it looked a bit like a heavy welders mask mashed together with bits and pieces that looked as if they could have come from one of those Stormtrooper helmets in Star Wars… or, maybe, a ’72 Ford Maverick… – and it got a bit hot inside, especially, here, in South America but, he had to admit that the thing did manage to shield out enough of the electromagnetic disturbance that his body generated to keep the electronics within from frying out.
“Oh,” Dweeb chuckled in reply as Preston reached the apex of his leap and started descending back toward the earth, “I’m sure you did. I probably wasn’t listening, though. That helmet’s the start of us figuring out the rest of it, Preston, my friend… just as much as that verse of yours…”
“Hubris, Dweeb?” Preston half-jokingly prodded as he plummeted earthward and started bracing himself for the impact.
“Nah, just science and engineering,” the other man’s voice crackled, “I’m all for God taking care of your little problem, D; just figured I’d try to help out while He was working on it.” There was a low whistle over the earpiece, then; “I think you covered about four miles with that jump! Goooood hang time! You’re gonna come in awful close to the town, though.”
Preston’s scowl returned as the ground rushed up to meet him. Dweeb was right; the small town of Puerto Casado was quickly filling his vision and the reek of the town’s tannery was filtering in through his mask’s breather. He thanked God that it was still the middle of the night, here, and, as such, most of the inhabitants would likely be asleep… at the same time, he offered up a little prayer asking that the small tremor to be caused by his landing wouldn’t shake any of those people from their beds. “Yeah,” he answered Dweeb, then, “a little close… Still in the wee hours, here, though, and I don’t plan on sticking around long enough for the welcome wagon to show up…”
Despite those reassurances, however, Preston found himself tensing a bit more than he should have and gritting his teeth a bit in hopes that he might be able to somehow soften his landing and spare the locals any sort of disturbance caused by his passing…
Hubris, Preston? he chuckled inwardly as the lyrics from Street Fighting Man spun up in his mind… “Hey, said my name is called Disturbance… I’ll shout and scream, I’ll kill the king, I’ll rail at all his servants…”
BOOOOM!!!
He hit the ground in a small field just north of Puerto Casado, winced a bit behind his helmet as he chased the tremor up to the edge of the small impact crater he’d created, and, as he gained the top, the muscles in his legs coiled and launched him skyward, again. He glanced back when he reached about 500 feet… there were a few lights flickering to life and, he thought, he saw a few people staggering sleepily out of their homes… No one looked up, though…
“Anything,” Dweeb asked.
“Nothing major,” Preston answered, “we’re good.
Should hit the border in an hour or less.”
“Affirmative. We’ll have an extraction point for you at Bela Vista. How’s the charge?”
“Building,” Preston replied after considering the itchy-tingly-buzz that crawled just beneath the surface of his skin, “but still negligible. If I can hit Bela Vista in the next three hours and your guys can get me shielded, we shouldn’t have to worry about pulsing the chopper out of the sky.”
“Copy that. We’ll be ready…”
08:28:06 GMT – Less than a kilometer south of the Paraguay-Brazil border
When he hit the ground this time, Preston didn’t immediately leap skyward, once more. Instead, he gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and remained there, crouched down in the tiny pockmark his landing had made, trying to contain the surge of electrical energy that arced maddeningly beneath and, now, visibly across the surface of his skin…
“…ston?! You oka…? …st you in a clo…rts or som… ! Pres…” Dweeb’s transmission was squawky and garbled, of course, but he got the gist of it and hoped the helmet was shielding his own vox-mic enough to send something acceptable back.
“Roger,” he responded through clenched teeth, “I’m still here, Dweeb. Just came down through a thunderstorm or something… Might have made a liar out of me in regards to what I said about my charge, earlier, though… I’m feeling kind of jazzed, right now. Think I’m gonna sit here and wait for it to disperse before I get any closer to your team…”
“Preston? D.. ou copy?... ome i…”
Yeah, Preston grimaced, straining to stand against the upwelling electricity, I’m on my way… Just… gimme a… minute…
“…and he does not restrain the lightnings when his voice is heard …”
“Well, come on, then,” Preston pleaded, lifting his eyes, if not his body, skyward, “Let it loose! Or show me how to restrain it… or… NNNnnnngggg!!!”
The surge doubled him over and he felt as if he had to lift the welders mask visor of his helmet in order to breathe… “No more than you can bear,” Preston growled, forcing himself upright, once more, “The Lord gives you no more than you can bear…” He let his head fall back in order to look at the sky without the visor in the way. That intended path of sight, though, was diverted by the sight of the armed and armored troops who now ringed the edge of his tiny divot, their weapons train unerringly on him. One of those troops – or, perhaps, it was someone else that Preston couldn’t see – shouted out a command in Spanish… He thought it was Spanish… Can’t quite make it out over this buzzing…
“No habla,” he couldn’t help but lie, fighting the lightning and the urge to leap out of here all at once, “Lo siento, no habla… You all really should get away from here… Muy rapido!”
“Keep your hands in the air, Mr. Smith,” a voice cautioned him in English, then, “and get to your knees. We’re going to manage your electrical problem for you and, then, you’re coming with us. Your compliance will make the entire process much simpler.”
“I really don’t think you understand,” Preston returned, trying to get his legs to kick him toward the heavens, “I’m not exactly safe for…”
“We understand perfectly, Mr. Smith. Hit him!”
The troopers rimming the crater all fired, then, and Preston was surprised to find himself hit, in numerous places, not with bullets but, rather, some sticky globule with a wire that led back to…
Oh… no…
That pulse, as the taser rifles all triggered simultaneously, was perhaps the single most painful one Preston could remember in the last year and a half… the flash of the electricity as it exploded out of him, it’s overloaded vessel was intense… and the smell was like nothing he’d ever…
Wait… yes I have… blearily he reached up to close his mask... and failed; …sleep… gas… Damn…
Posted on 2012-06-30 at 18:13:28.
Edited on 2012-07-27 at 13:39:47 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Looking for a game to join
Subject: Star Wars d20
plays a lot like 3.5e D&D... Just different races, feats, setting, etc...
Fun to play if you're a Star Wars geek at all... even a little... 
Posted on 2012-06-30 at 14:37:57.
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Topic: Floyd back?
Subject: w00t
I'm an old school pencil and paper guy, myself... I keep trying digital illustration/painting but still haven't quite gotten the hang of it (well, at least like some others hereabouts *winks* )...
Looking forward to the return of Floyd (and possibly others, as well).
Posted on 2012-06-30 at 13:07:05.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: *winks*
I have no worries about your RP essence, Jen.
Mort - glad you enjoyed Malakai's capture.
Preston's post should be up shortly.
Rione will follow...
Posted on 2012-06-29 at 13:56:44.
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Topic: Website Crash!!!
Subject: Well...
...we've got a pyroboom... but he's not really what you'd call a "problem"...
And, as a serious answer, pyro... No... the Inn doesn't typically have "major" crashes all that often. Of course, we do have the standard, run-of-the-mill issues (server chokes and needs a reboot, etc) but this kind of crash is usually a rare occurrance.
Posted on 2012-06-29 at 13:54:06.
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Topic: Teller of Aryn
Subject: Ummm...
Posted on 2012-06-29 at 00:25:39.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Me either!!!
We're almost there!
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 17:59:07.
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Topic: Brewing my own beer...
Subject: Sweet!!!
 those labels, boss!
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 17:58:00.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Yup...
...I believe I made a note of your away dates offline, Hammer. 
Also, Malakai has been nabbed.
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 17:54:48.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis
Subject: Malakai - Run Down
March 10, 2014 – 11:30:35 GMT
Abingdon Street; London, England, UK
Even before Pluto had started spinning again nearly two years ago, Malakai Sorrena was not a man to have ever been described as “late” or “tardy.” Punctuality had always been in his vocabulary, in fact, and had played no small role in his success in both life and business. Punctuality, accuracy, rapid-prototyping, a solid, final product, and the quickness of mind to always stay a step or two ahead of the ever-changing games of business and marketing were key, he knew, and, since he’d been released from the foster-care system (even before that, actually) Malakai had patterned his life on those principals, defying the limited expectations that any of his case workers or even foster families had had for his future. Like himself, Malakai’s company was physically on the smallish side, comprised of only a handful of employees and an even smaller number of associates and consultants, but, also like him, the physical aspect of the company was, by no means, an accurate representation of capability… especially since December 21, 2012…
He had been able to out-think almost anyone even before that day… but after… after that day Malakai began to discover that he could out think just about anything, as well. Whatever it was that happened to him on that day had not only given him physical speed beyond belief but, also, a mental swiftness to match and, so, was capable of coming up with answers to questions at least as quickly as the fastest computers in the world – he wasn’t super-intelligent, mind you, so he didn’t just instantly know those answers, but he could Google quick as Bob’s-your-uncle… not a bad ‘gift’ to have in the business world, he figured, and a good percentage of his profits would go to charity, anyway… – since that day, Malakai Sorenna could outthink and/or outrun everything on the planet…
Have to remember to keep it sub-sonic, he thought as he sped past Victoria Tower Gardens at nearly 600 miles an hour, Bad enough I have to do this in public… hate to blow out any windows.
…He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to outrun these blokes, though. They weren’t faster than he was, of course, but there seemed to be hundreds of them and they seemed to be, quite literally, everywhere! And sheer numbers wasn’t the only resource they had in their favor, either….
Did that guy actually try to magnetize me?
Brilliant!
I hope he’s the best they’ve got, though… dragging me down a bit and causing me a misstep is one thing… but if I run into one that can actually catch and hold on…
…Malakai shook the thought away as quickly as it had formed. There would be plenty of time to think about all of this later, right now, he needed to focus on keeping his feet moving and getting himself free of the intricate web that these suits had woven in hopes of… well… he wasn’t really sure what their hopes were any more than he was sure of exactly who they were.
He raced through the roundabout where Abingdon Street intersected Horseferry Road -- the speed of his passing causing the tree on the traffic island to lean in his wake – and continued west for a couple of blocks before, once more, turning south on Dean Ryle Street in hopes of avoiding the group of suits he’d spied waiting for him at the Tufton Street intersection…
Cor! But they are everywhere, aren’t they, Malakai frowned, making a hard right onto Page Street, Might stand a better chance of losing them in The Tube, mightn’t I?
His legs churned harder and, as he broke Mach 1, blowing a bank of windows out of the DEFRA building with the resultant sonic boom, his skin shimmered like chrome in reaction to the increase in velocity. His frown deepened into a scowl as the broken glass tinkled to the ground behind him... he had hoped to avoid that kind of thing but, whoever these chaps were and whatever it as that they wanted, they were making it rather unavoidable… his feet left the ground all together and, as his momentum carried him forward, he tucked himself into tight ball and somersaulted toward the lamppost on the northwest corner of Page and Marsham… there was an audible PING!!! and the post bent as his body ricocheted off of it at a sharp angle… Malakai stretched out, calculated the angle of his trajectory, twisted, and then tucked again as the ricochet shot him toward another lamppost at the southeast corner of the intersection. A second PING!!!, another bent lamppost, and Malakai Sorrena ricocheted into the Westminster Tube Station.
11:31:38 GMT – Westminster Tube Station; 75 Page Street, London, England
Malakai’s hopes that the Tube would be less infested by these mysterious types who had been pursuing him were quickly and painfully dashed when he hit the platform at Westminster. He had hoped to find only the typical smattering of commuters, here, once he’d left the surface streets behind… had hoped that these shady blokes wouldn’t have thought to cover the Underground network, at all… Unfortunately, there were no commuters, at all. The station seemed to have been cleared of everyone, in fact… save for the lone figure who, after snaring him in a magnetic field that was much stronger than the first one he’d encountered, held Malakai aloft just over the tracks and grinned a self-satisfied grin before launching him into the path of an approaching train…
PING!!!
Skreeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
PING-PING-PING… ping… thud!
Malakai had, thankfully, been able to maintain consciousness long enough for his bio-metallic skin to have absorbed the brunt of the train’s impact. The last couple of bounces from the Tube walls, however, had hurt enough for him to know that he wouldn’t be conscious much longer… his thought processes slowed… he tried to get back to his feet and start running again… or at least to stand and fight if he couldn’t run… but the effort was too much…
“Watchtower,” he heard a voice echo along the tunnel just before darkness claimed him, “Subject has been neutralized. Awaiting retrieval between Westminster and Waterloo…”
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 17:51:02.
Edited on 2012-07-27 at 13:39:16 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Okay...
...Annie's acquisition post is back up.
Was going to tack up Malakai's, too, but apparently I didn't save the last couple of paragraphs before I shut down yesterday... 
((Celeste would say that's just another sign that I'm getting old.  ))
...Sooo... off I go to re-write those paragraphs and get back into posting mode.
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 13:48:16.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis
Subject: Annie – Space Remaining on Disk [13811]: 0/47.5 ZB
March 10, 2014 – 10:14:23 GMT
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Annie Sorika had, again, found herself with a bit more extra time on her hands than she had anticipated. She had finished her latest manuscript hours ago and, following a final proof read and spellcheck, she had put a nice little wrapper on The Dance of the Faerie Queen and sent it off to her publisher. It was still a bit early and a bit cold to wander outside – no lounging in the hammock or puttering about in the yard, just yet, then – she had ideas for several more books, of course, but needed to step away from that particular creative process for, at least, a little while. Her gaze slipped away from the scene of Calgary that the early morning sun had painted outside her window, and considered the basket of yarn and other knitting supplies, topped with a half-finished doll, that sat on the table across the room…
No, she decided with a faint smile, not that, just now, either… something requiring a little less effort, I think… Something relaxing but not mind-numbingly so.
Annie stifled a yawn, sipped at the cup of tea that was still cooling, cradled between her hands, and, her smile widening a bit, padded towards the smallish bedroom that she used as an office. The computer had powered up before she reached the room and, by the time she entered the room, it had finished its start-up routines, connected to the network, and was humming softly as it awaited Annie’s arrival.
“Good morning,” the red haired woman smiled over the rim of her tea cup in response to the computer’s greeting; its binary language translated to English and French instantaneously as she perceived it in her mind, “Anything interesting today?”
Dozens of browser windows opened, displaying news sites, internet group forums, e-mail accounts, and the like. The windows, really, were unnecessary – the computer could have just dumped the pertinent information directly into her brain – but, unless she was actually inside, she rather preferred the visuals rendered on the monitor. It took her only moments to absorb, process, and store that first dose of data the computer had presented… windows flickered and closed only to be replaced by new ones; e-mails were opened, replied to, and sent off; and posts were made on internet forums under her usernames… all before the novelist had crossed the three meters from doorway to chair. She sipped at her tea, again, as she settled into the chair and, with a glance, dismissed all the open windows that were littering her monitor before she set her cup down next to the unused keyboard.
“So,” she grinned, her turquoise eyes twinkling as the computer’s voice chirped softly in her mind, “nothing too entertaining… Good.
I suppose, then, that taking another look at that strange little node I found a couple of weeks ago might provide some kind of distraction. Webcam, please.”
The computer chirruped its acknowledgement and, at the same time, the tiny red light indicating the webcam’s readiness flickered to life. Annie indulged in another sip of her tea and glanced, first at the webcam’s indicator light, and then at its lens… The computer queried her in binary and Annie answered in kind… she had almost forgotten to set the teacup down, again, and tried to correct that minor oversight as her physical form de-rezzed – the teacup struck the desk top with a faint clink and an errant drop of tea tried to escape over the rim – and Annie disappeared from the little house in Calgary and entered the infinitely more spacious environs of the digital world.
The tea cup would have to clean up after itself.
10:27:5… …enland.
Annie still wasn’t sure exactly where the servers that housed this particular node were physically located but, given the amount of time it had taken for her to traverse the distance between her home network in Calgary and the overly-secured jump-point into this curious, virtual structure, it was certainly thousands of miles from any point in Alberta. It was hidden well, secreted away behind layers of firewalls that could only be seen if one was saavy enough to navigate their way through the tangled labyrinth of spoofed IP addresses, misleading URLs, and routers thick with intrusion countermeasures. Behind all of that, past the edges of the known internet, beyond a wide swath of electronic snow, was ‘the Rock.’ Some of her friends from ASTERIX had tipped her off to its existence a few months ago and Annie had visited probably a hundred different times since but, even as she stood here now, on the far side of the digital chasm that separated her from it, she couldn’t help but marvel at the thing. The node itself was visible in its entirety only from here, she knew, and it had become a habit of hers to stand and study the thing for a while before flashing herself any closer.
The structure and complexity of the central node was astounding. The layers of data on the outside of the main construct ¬– the code manipulated to represent a jagged spire of rock, towering high above the electron storms that raged over the eight concentric walls ringing it’s base – was astounding and, given that outward presentation, Annie could only imagine at the cache of information that must be awaiting inside. She tried not to let herself get too curious about that, right now, though… The data would be there as soon as she cracked those walls and getting overly-excited about the prize before outsmarting the traps never worked out for the best. How many of her own heroes or heroines had encountered a major setback (and smooth little plot twist) because of such a failing?... She did allow herself to be curious about the eagle that, today, seemed to be missing from its usual routine of circling the crag, though. There had been only a handful of times that Annie had arrived at the jump point and not found the giant, golden bird soaring in loops, high and low, about the Rock and, on each of those occasions the eagle had reappeared (as if it had soared back into the digital sky from some perch on the far side of the spire) almost as soon as she had taken note of its absence… that nanosecond had passed nearly a thousand times over, now, though, and still no sign of the eagle. After waiting for another moment, Annie shrugged and abandoned the vigil. She wasn’t sure that the eagle was even a part of this node or if it belonged to some other construct and was little more than an intricate courier program, at any rate. Maybe, if she managed to crack all eight doors, this time, and get into the Rock, itself, she’d find out more about the eagle, too.
She gave the Rock one more, long look, then, tore her eyes away and directed them to the small, glowing sphere that hovered beside her. The sphere spun this way and that as she input the code that activated the jump point, each character of the password lighting up on a different vertex of the thing until, when the last character was entered, it spun itself away entirely and, in the flashing of its disappearance, Annie found herself standing before the doorway through the first of the eight walls. Well, ‘door’ may have been a misnomer for this one. Security-wise it was more the equivalent of a tent flap and Annie had no difficulty slipping through, then around the circuit between the first and second walls to find the next door. This one was a little more complex; it looked more like an actual door albeit with a very simple lock… she twisted the tiny button in the middle of the knob, turned the handle, and she was through. The doors and their locks got more complicated as she advanced – a portcullis, here, requiring her to actually reach to the other side of the wall in which it was set to raise it; another that looked like the automatic doors at the supermarket which required the reconnection of its “pressure sensor” in order for it to open – but Annie managed to crack all of the first seven with, what seemed to her, minimal effort. She stood, now, before the eighth and final door – a broad, featureless, heavy looking thing like any number of doors she’d seen in episodes of Star Trek or Star Wars movies, perhaps – and recalled all of her other visits and the failed attempts at opening this final checkpoint… No sense in retrying something you already know won’t work. She was unable to simply hack the small panel that was set into the wall next to the door; waving her hand in front of the dimly glowing red square in the center of that panel seemed to have no effect; holding her hand to the red square produced no results, either; none of the access codes she had tried worked… What was the trick to this one, she wondered, as she studied the door, the panel, the wall, and, finally, the electron storm that raged far above at the top of the wall, obscuring the Rock from her sight. A curious arcing of red light in the storm, followed by the flashing of a brilliant white light just under the apex of that arc, caught Annie’s attention just then and, smiling a little, she shook her head and regarded the door again…
Trek geeks, she laughed to herself, rearranging her own structure to present herself as a Starfleet officer in full uniform. Once the comm-badge resolved on her digital disguise, the panel set into the wall next to the door chirped, its panel flashed from red to green, and the last door shooshed away into the wall.
She was in… and it was as amazing as she had expected. The space inside seemed veritably infinite, stretching away in all directions only to disappear beyond the limits of her vision, and, despite the limitless space, it seemed the inside of the Rock was packed full with data… billions… trillions of files, each represented by a dancing ball of digital flame that bobbed in the air around her…
“Oh, I bet I end up spending the rest of the day here,” Annie smiled as she reached for the file nearest her…
Yes… the rest of the day, at least. Once Annie had absorbed that first file into her own construct, the door behind her whisked shut and, like the rest of the files around her, disappeared.
“Um… oops?” Annie, quickly tried to find and reactivate the door where it had originally been but it was no longer there. She tried to follow the wall around the interior of the construct then but suddenly found that she was unable to move anywhere… Whatever was in that first file she had absorbed was growing… making her grow… and before long, Anielle Sorika, virtually filled the interior of the construct she had just infiltrated. Trapped.
The MARSH - 10:29:15 GMT
“We’ve got her, sir,” the technician said excitedly as he disconnected the portable hard drive from his console and held it aloft for Benton Ashcroft to see.
“Excellent,” Ashcroft nodded, “Have her prepped and downloaded to her cell.”
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 13:46:05.
Edited on 2012-07-27 at 13:38:44 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Oops!
Looks like the crash, last night, nabbed a game post and several from the QA... 
Yay for backups, though, yes? Game posts can be replaced thanks to thumbdrives and Word... Busy at work this morning but will get the missing post(s) onto the game thread before too long.
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 13:22:14.
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Topic: Teller of Aryn
Subject: Well, well, well...
...I love the taste of new Innmates in the morning!
Welcome aboard, Aryn! Glad to have you along and looking very forward to reading what you have to share with us.
Terribly sorry, of course, about the little 'crash' that occurred after you joined the first go round but, not to worry, it's not too common a happening. *winks*
Anyhoo, I'm sure that you'll find us a happy, welcoming, and (we like to think) supportive community of lunatics, so, if you have any questions, need somebody to walk the halls with you or whatever, feel free to shoot me (or any of our other innmates) a PM or tack up a post and someone will come running.
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 13:19:43.
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Topic: Website Crash!!!
Subject: Heh...
...gotta love it! (Cuz it's either laugh or cry, sometimes, right?)
Could have been worse, I suppose... Three days of posts is better than losing everything a la 'The Great Crash' of 06.
Hooray for composing posts in Word and having backups, I guess. 
Posted on 2012-06-28 at 13:13:35.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Well, mort...
...You're in luck. Random roll of the dice has Malakai following Annie.
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 19:18:21.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: ...
*winks*
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 16:05:19.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: There's one for Aly...
...random luck of the draw machine says that Annie is next.
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 15:29:09.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis
Subject: Aly - Shadowed
Monday, March 10, 2014 – 04:55:06 GMT
Nisku Truck Stop; Leduc, Alberta, Canada
She knew better, of course, than to imagine that she was far enough away, yet, to escape his reach… knew better than to think that crossing the parking lot, even in the dark, was a good idea… but she was so hungry, and the smells coming from the truck stop’s restaurant had led her belly to override her brain. Besides, she thought, glancing at the clock on the bus station’s wall, my connection doesn’t leave for another hour and a half, anyway… and if that old lady pulls a mint out of her purse and asks me if I want some candy one more time, I might scream.
That would be bad for everybody,Alyeria imagined as she tucked her hair under her hoodie and slipped out the door, leaving the relative safety of the small crowd of people behind.
Her blue eyes gave a quick, almost nervous, scan of the pad outside… three busses rumbled idly under a giant, fluttering bank of fluorescent lights; drivers, baggage handlers, and other employees of the bus line, she guessed, flickering like the lights, between the hulks of the Greyhounds… between herself and the restaurant, a long stretch of sporadically lit parking lot creeping with shadows, interspersed only occasionally with a smattering of people; a trucker, here, a small knot of travelers, there, nobody that looked as if they could be her father’s men…
Good, she thought, wandering away from the busses and towards the shadow-strewn parking lot, so far, anyway.
…Aly had become somewhat of an expert at wandering about unnoticed even before she had discovered her powers. Given the nature of her “family business” and her desire to keep herself as far the hell away from it as she possibly could, it had become an almost essential skill for her… the powers had just made it a little easier… and given her a little more, too, that came in handy from time to time…
Probably don’t even need to bother with this, she thought as she melted into a patch of deep shadow between a pair of vending machines, but better safe than sorry, right? The fewer people that see me, the fewer people have to know… anything…
In her shadow-form, Aly slithered up the sides of the machines and crept along in the darkness beneath the eaves of the building against which those machines had been set. She waited along the backside of the building until she was certain that no one would see and launched herself across the nearly sixty foot distance as a swirling mass of darkness and melded silently into the shadows that played along the trailer of the closest rig. And so she moved – a shadow dancing among the shadows, unseen except, by some random cast of moonlight or sudden sweep of headlights, as perhaps a penumbral illusion in the shape of a young woman… inexplicable, perhaps, but quickly and easily discarded as a trick of light and tired, road weary eyes – until she reached a broad swatch of shadow behind Pluto’s Restaurant where she detached herself from the darkness and, with a nervous grin, walked the few remaining feet to the eatery’s door as a ‘normal girl’.
05:50:10 GMT – Nisku Truck Stop; Leduc, Alberta, Canada
An hour or so, and a cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake later, Alyeria was feeling a little more comfortable about having made her escape. She hadn’t caught so much as an off glance from anyone in Pluto’s and she’d made it, in the shadows, again, all the way from the restaurant and nearly to the bus station without incident…
Maybe she’d gotten a little too comfortable.
…as she made the leap between the semi-trailer and the eaves of the Greyhound station, the darkness around her was suddenly burned away by the brightest light Alyeria could remember having ever seen.
“S#!t!” She cursed as her shadow-form was stripped away and she tumbled helplessly toward the ground.
She hoped she might pass through a random cast of shadow on her way down and sneak away at best or, at the very least, get off a bolt at these guys before they took her back home to her father… No such luck… Even as she fell she could tell that the light was getting brighter… that there were more of them… that they were all around her and there wasn’t even her own shadow left for her to escape into… “WhOOOooof!!!” The wind was knocked from her lungs and the remains of her fries and shake splattered around her as she hit the pavement…
“Alyeria,” a voice said from somewhere in that hateful stabbing glare that surrounded her, “we’ve been looking for you…”
The last thing she remembered before passing out was thinking that these weren’t her father’s guys… her father’s guys would have called her Aly…
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 15:27:59.
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Topic: Wish me luck
Subject: Go get 'em, Mort!
We're all pulling for you.
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 11:45:39.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Updates coming...
...I promise!
Chasing down and reconnecting wires is eye-burning, time consuming work, it seems.
Posted on 2012-06-22 at 01:15:51.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis
Subject: Daniel - Tethered
Sunday, March 9, 2014 – 22:10:09 GMT
Lower Marine Road, east of Troy, Illinois, USA
Daniel Henson stopped, adjusted the strap of his duffel to sit more comfortably on his shoulder, flicked a glance back the way he’d come, and, then, panned his gaze back towards the way he was headed. No traffic from either direction, he noted, for perhaps the eighth time in the past hour…
Figures, he grumbled inwardly, pulling the hood of his coat over his head and, then, stuffing his hands in his pockets against the chill of the early March air, try to make things easier and it’s never easy.
…He turned his gaze west, again, and gave a bit of a dejected smirk as he opened his mind to the thoughts of the town he’d left behind in the wee hours of the previous morning. It took a minute to filter through the cacophony that greeted him, at first, and find the thoughts of those few among thousands that truly mattered to him. His mother was upset, as he knew she likely would be despite the note he had left her. His step-father, too, had thoughts that indicated that the man was not just surprised but, also, somewhat saddened by the fact that Daniel had left home the way he had. Surprisingly enough, though, there were also glimmers of pride to be found in the man’s thoughts and, though he didn’t really want to, Daniel couldn’t help but let himself slip a little closer and pick out words from those thoughts…
“…sure he’s fine,” his step-father was saying as he wrapped Daniel’s mother up in a comforting embrace, “don’t cry. Daniel’s a smart boy. Too smart for him to have stayed around here forever. He’ll find a place before long and I’m sure he’ll call as soon as he has the chance…”
…Too much. Daniel shook himself loose from the thoughts, tried to stuff his hands deeper into his pockets, and forced himself to look eastward again. Should have probably done this sooner. I knew too much before all of this happened… His feet were moving again, taking him north and east along the gently curving line of Lower Marine Road and, hopefully, before long, would lead him to I-70 where the chances of getting a ride would hopefully improve. …Now I know way too much… Can do way too much… His ice-blue eyes lifted from the roadside where it passed beneath the toes of his shoes and found a sign that pointed the way to “Hagler Cemetery” in Pin Oak and found himself wondering if the dead still had thoughts… and would he want to hear them if they did?
Sunday, March 9, 2014 – 22:55:24 GMT
Old Staunton Road, minutes south of I-70: Illinois, USA
It had almost surprised him when the SUV slowed down, pulled off to the side of the road, and sat, waiting for him… it probably shouldn’t have, but it did. He stood, staring, trapped in the red glow of the vehicle’s brake lights for a moment…
Wave this one on, he told himself even though his feet were already moving him toward the awaiting Tahoe, it’s always the SUVs that tip you off to the baddies… in every video game I’ve ever played, anyway… every movie I’ve ever seen…
…and then found himself opening the passenger door…
I’d feel it if there was something wrong, though, wouldn’t I?
… “Hi,” smiled the svelte woman with long, curly red hair who sat behind the wheel, “Need a lift? It’s only going to get colder out.”
Daniel’s eyes skittered over the interior of the vehicle – laptop bag in the back seat behind her, the jacket to match the woman’s skirt tossed almost casually over it… a sheaf of folders, bound together with a thick elastic band, occupied the passenger’s side back seat… discarded Starbuck’s cups littered the floorboards along with ATM receipts, a couple of hair ties, and a pen ¬– and then back to the woman who was smiling, almost too expectantly, at him… Don’t do it. She just some normal lady, nice enough to offer you a ride.… He read her, anyway…
“Poor thing… Looks like he’s been walking for days… gotta be miserable….I wonder if he’s one of those wandering weirdoes that sexually assault women that pick him up?... God, I hope so… Look at him… he’s so cute… he could hijack me all the way to Chicago… but the meeting tomorrow… and Bill… and the girls… Whew.. just a ride… er… lift… just a lift, Victoria…”
…Don’t do it…
“Sure,” Daniel smiled back, trying not to blush, as he climbed into the passenger’s seat and situated his duffle between his feet, “Thanks.” He flinched when the door thunked shut… because he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d been the one that had shut it.
“Where are you headed,” Victoria asked, her ice-blue eyes flickering as they danced away from him to check her mirrors and blind spot before she pulled back onto the road.
East, Daniel wanted to say, some place quiet, not too many people. “North… I guess…” he said, “Chicago? Maybe?”
What? Chicago?!
“Really? Chicago’s a big place… What’s your name?”
Make something up. Don’t use your real name.
“Daniel.”
Daniel’s consciousness felt as if it rippled. He had an almost nauseating sense that Victoria was somehow driving his thoughts as easily as she was driving the SUV. The feeling subsided, though, as quickly as Victoria’s ice-blue eyes flashed with her smile.
“Hi, Daniel. I’m Marie,” Victoria-who-was-now-Marie cooed, “Chicago, huh? That’s a big place, Daniel. Do you know people there?”
“Uh… no… not really,” Daniel answered, “of course, people are pretty much the same wherever you go, aren’t they? Heh…” He squirmed in his seat a little and turned his eyes away from Marie to watch the landscape roll past… “Just… hoping to find work, I guess… see where it goes from there…”
Marie/Victoria laughed, then, and smiled her brightest smile yet at Daniel. “Now if that isn’t just coincidence, I don’t know what is,” she beamed, “I happen to work for a company that has an office in Chicago and, I’m sure, that office is in need of…”
Daniel’s eyes flicked to the laptop bag, the suit coat, the files, and, finally back to her; “I don’t think I’m exactly the right kind of guy to work in a place like…”
“Oh,” Marie giggled, “you are exactly the ‘kind of guy’ that The Prometheus Group would find a perfect candidate…”
He felt her pushing him, now, and tried to resist… but she was already inside his shield before he could bring it up… and inside his mind before he could manage a blast to dislodge her. Get out of my head, Victoria!!!
“… A young man with your particular set of skills is always most useful to us.”
Very good, Victoria giggled in his mind, You see what I mean, Mr. Henson? You shouldn’t be able to resist a psion of my caliber… let alone try to attack me when your defense fails. Now… give in… give in…”
Dammit!
“Yeah,” Daniel nodded, “Prometheus Group. Sounds good… what do they do?”
Oh… Daniel… They do so very many things… and you’ll be a part of it… you’ll see… Now… Sleep…
((OOC: Okay, there’s a little bit more… got one of these for each of you to finish up… just wanted to put the one that was finished out here, at least… stay tuned…))
Posted on 2012-06-21 at 19:07:46.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: Slight delay...
...ran into a crisis with the daughter's car. Will post tomorrow at latest.
Sorry.
P.S. Got the PMs... will reply to those ASAP.
Posted on 2012-06-21 at 01:11:50.
Edited on 2012-06-21 at 01:16:00 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: And...
...starting powers have been added to ALL character sheets on page 1.
More in the game thread a bit later today. 
Posted on 2012-06-20 at 15:32:21.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis - Q&A
Subject: For what it's worth...
...I've had some thoughts of my own as to what each of you might have been doing with your powers between the time they first presented themselves to the time the game starts. This isn't to say that those thoughts are set in stone, of course - I'm perfectly happy letting each of you run with that as you will - just letting you all know that I have had some thoughts in that regard and, if you need any help or a nudge or whatever, I'm only a PM or a post away.
Posted on 2012-06-20 at 14:56:42.
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