Those With Power

[kronosdragon]

"Not at all. I can wait," Arlaen replied, sipping at her ginger ale with a calm expression.

[Polo]

Curtis opened his eyes.

Darkness; an endless void of nothing.

He felt weightlessness. Floating in an ocean blocked off from the sunlight that bleached its shores. He had been here before, many times. Years. He looked to his left and to his right. Nothing.

Then he saw it, a small sphere, glistening brightly as it passed his eyes from above. It looked like snow, a diamond alone in a rift. Curtis smiled. It wasn't just snow. It was a memory, lacking detail but he was assured by it. Swimming closer, it began to grow larger, clearer. He saw himself sitting inside, at first alone but soon accompanied by another person. They looked familiar, like it was his father, or brother; someone. A single memory wasn't enough, but he felt calm near its glow.

Another memory floated down yet now much smaller. This one wasn't a distance away, it was close. He squinted to see what mysteries it held. It was him again, but this time with a girl. He tried but couldn't remember her name.

The memories soon fell beneath Curtis and continued to flow downwards as if caught by a stream. Curtis swam after them, curious to see where they would take him. He soon felt himself caught in their current, now being dragged further down into the blackness, alone, yet together again. Calming.

More memories began floating down with him. As they passed him, he caught a glimpse of who he was, who he had been and all those people, those brilliant people he had once known. He couldn't stop. Two memories soon turned into Twenty, Two-hundred and soon countless upon thousands of vivid crystalline anamneses. They spiralled around Curtis, above and below. They encompassed him, they were showing him himself. Curtis reached out and brushed his hands through the memories, continuing to glide downwards. Soon he too was caught in a spiralling vortex.

For a second, he remembered who he was 7 years prior. A child; he was naive but curious. He couldn't help but laugh as he fell downwards. All the memories below were forming together to create a brilliant golden river. He fell into it, submersed in a rivulet of life.

He looked ahead as he was dragged forwards by its current, further and further. The memories ahead began to vanish.

The joy on his face was soon replaced with horror. He was frightened, small and insignificant. He threw his arms backwards, and began to paddle against the flow, faster and faster, but it was too overwhelming. He just couldn't do it. With his last stroke, he came to a stop and let the current draw him in.

Suddenly, he stopped. He fell to a floor, the weightlessness was gone, but the darkness remained, the ground beneath him only faintly lit by a glow of gold. He brought himself to his knees and looked around, and finally looked behind his back. Two massive glowing eyes; one green and the other blue. They belonged to an otherworldly creature, like nothing he had ever witnessed. It was dark, indescribable.

Above him, he saw the stream of his memories, those lighting the darkness around him, drift into its great unfathomable jaws, as lightning discharged from its teeth and disintegrated them. They were being eaten and digested. He was beginning to forget, he was loosing each and every part of his memories. Curtis wanted everything to just stop; he had reduced himself to a wreck. A fool. Someone who could never remember.He closed his eyes tightly and then-

He woke up. He picked himself up, and rubbed his eyes. He sat, thinking what it was he had just dreamt, but he couldn't remember. The memory of the dream had slipped away from him, just like those before. He looked towards the clock in his room. It was 1:00 pm.

[Varthonai]

I was wondering if you had time for me to visit you in the Princedom sometime this week.

Marc typed a hasty reply. Absolutely. Are you free later today? I can be ready for you at any time.

[sgt_Angua]

Gish read Marcs reply and was happily surprised to be invited for later that day.

Angel called a meeting for the team and I do not know how long that will take but I can come to the Princedom after.

Gish sent the message and looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Ms. Sahari, El Ciudad Borracho sent me to take over watching the prisoner,” a guard said.

As usual for humans he addressed her by only her paternal given name. She should really talk to Angel about that, but not today.

“Thank you,” Gish said simply, standing up and heading off towards the meeting.

[Varthonai]

Sounds perfect. Please send me a message when the meeting is over.

Marc closed his PDA and turned back to Arlaen, almost giddy with relief. Gish was coming here. Away from Felix.

Would she look at housing? Would she be willing to stay? Questions raced through his mind. He didn't have a house prepared but there were other rooms in Arlaen's house, and he doubted Arlaen would mind a roommate until he had set up a place for Gish to stay alone. They had plenty in common, after all. Both former members of a team they were overqualified for... both possessing blades that grew out of their bodies... both under his protection.

Marc realized he must be sending out a powerful wave of emotion for Arlaen to pick up on, and tried to contain himself. "Sorry, done now," he said. "Now, what was I going to ask about..."

He looked down his notes, trying to remember his train of thought.

[Polo]

Curtis peered around at the room he was in. He was standing at the end of his bed. This room felt so bare, generic, cold. It wasn't so bad, it was a place to live. A place to call home again -- as time passed, it would probably start to warm up to him. He looked at his satchel, which he had placed on the bedside long before. He contemplated taking it with him, but decided to leave it where it was. He stretched and cracked his bones in an attempt to make himself awake, and alert. He felt fine; a mere 4 hours sleep was enough to rejuvenate him for a few days.

He straightened his shirt and jacket, and looked down at the glowing PDA in his hand. It had buzzed a while ago. A little message icon blinked on the screen. He had to go to a meeting of some sort, he wasn't sure what but it probably wasn't going to be too bad. He collected himself once more, and headed off to the meeting.

[kronosdragon]

Arlaen cleared her throat.

"Um, we were going to discuss those experiments I agreed to let you run," she said quietly, sipping at her drink. She was picking up strong pulses of relief coming from him. She wondered what had happened to make him feel so.

[Varthonai]

"Ah, yes," said Marc, running his finger to the base of his laptop screen. "Your hair, Arlaen... it changes color. I've heard about supers with that trait before, and there's usually some pattern to it, but I haven't been able to pinpoint a pattern for yours yet. Do you know what controls it?"

He paused and rested his hand on his fist. "I'm not certain about this, but your eyes seem to change from time to time, too... but that might be an illusion, a trick of the light, a change in perspective caused by your changing hair color."

***

"...quite anxious to meet the rest of your team," Django finished, as Curtis opened the door.

"'Afternoon, Curtis," said Angel, smiling. "Django, meet Curtis, our newest member. Curtis, meet Django, our prospective member."

[kronosdragon]

Arlaen nodded.

"My eyes change color based on my mood. My hair changes as a way of blending in whenever I'm in an area that I feel unsafe or unsure of my surroundings."

She looked down at her hair, which had refused to change color as it normally would when she was outside and exposed to people.

"I feel safe here, and relaxed, so my hair will not change unless something causes it to do so..."

[Jedi-L]

"Pleased to meet you Curtis." said Django, nodding in greeting to the newcomer.

He smiled at the older man, trying to look as friendly as possible. It would do him no good to join if every other member hated him from the get go, so he had already decided to try to make friends now.

"I hope you don't mind me stealing your spot as the new guy."

[Polo]

"I hope you don't mind me stealing your spot as the new guy." Said Django.

"No problem really," Curtis replied "I accidentally ended up becoming the new guy more than anything. I didn't actually apply." Curtis reciprocated the man's pleasing nature and gave a smile back. He didn't seem too bad.

[Thunder]

Thorsten grumbled while the medics shot him full of more painkillers. He was positive that he was going to have withdrawals once he was healed up.

He had requested one of his suits, and the medics had relented, on the basis that they could monitor his vitals throughout the meeting. He wanted to look semi-presentable for the newbie.

The medics had allowed him his shirt, trousers and shoes, but they wouldn't let him wear his jacket and demanded he wear a sling. So now he was sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed through the corridors of his own building, trailing a team of doctors and a man with an IV. And he wasn't even wearing a tie.

They pushed open the doors of the conference room ahead of him, giving his team plenty of space to operate. They wheeled him in and placed him near Angel's head of the table, then made themselves scarce.

Angel and two others were already there. One of them matched the newbie's (Django, he reminded himself) description, but the other one he was unfamiliar with.

He nodded to Angel before introducing himself to Django.

"Evenin' Mr. Eminescu. I'm Ian Thorsten. You might have heard of me. Believe me, I don't usually look like this."

He smiled in what he hoped was a trustworthy way. It was hard when your face looked like a bag of hammers.

He turned to the other man. "And you are...?"

[Varthonai]

"Oh, of course," said Angel. "I'm sorry, Ian, I had almost forgotten that you hadn't met Curtis yet, you've been laid up in the med bay since he arrived. Curtis, Ian... Ian, Curtis."

[sgt_Angua]

Gish entered the conference room to see Angel, Ian, and a group of medics. Seeing them reminded her of Marc’s absence. As she moved further into the room the noticed the man who had appeared in the elevator the previous morning, although she could not remember his name, and someone she did not recognize.

Who is that? Gish wondered. The realization hit her and her anger flared. He’s supposed to replace Marc. You dare try to replace Marc? Gish stopped that line of thought and tried to erase her feelings from her face. He doesn’t know the situation; he isn’t the one trying to replace Marc. He doesn’t deserve your anger. Her gaze drifted to Angel.

[Varthonai]

"Oh, and Django, this is Dr. Gish Alac Sahari, our field medic," said Angel. "She's an invaluable member of the team. We might never have caught our intruder yesterday without her timely assistance. Gish, this is Django Eminescu; he's a prospective member, he might be joining us soon."

***

"Do you feel any pain when your hair is cut?" asked Marc.

[kronosdragon]

"Hmm? No...Am I supposed to?" she said, cocking her head in confusion.

[Jedi-L]

"Good to meet you, Doctor Sahari" said Django. "I'm glad to see that the people here aren't the kind to treat a Monaran like dirt, just for not being human."

[Varthonai]

"The ability to change color so rapidly is usually reserved for living tissue," Marc explained. "In normal humans, hair is a nonliving tissue."

He withdrew a small pair of scissors from his shirt pocket. "I was hoping that you would allow me to take a sample," he said, "but I didn't want to impose, not if it was painful to cut it; and I worried that, if it were living tissue, that might be the case."

[kronosdragon]

Arlaen took the scissors from him, pulled her hair around to the side, and snipped off a small amount from around the bottom to keep it even. She then handed him the small bundle of bright silver hair.

"Here," she said, flipping her hair back behind her shoulders and setting the scissors down on the table.

[sgt_Angua]

Angel’s flattery did nothing to sooth Gish’s anger, although she tried to hide it.

"Good to meet you, Doctor Sahari" said Django. "I'm glad to see that the people here aren't the kind to treat a Monaran like dirt, just for not being human."

She could appreciate the sentiment but in her current mood he sounded almost condescending.

“Alac Sahari,” Gish corrected him simply, keeping her voice neutral.

[Varthonai]

Angel wasn't quite certain why Gish would insist on being called by both middle and last names, but figured it might have something to do with Monaran customs and didn't want to look ignorant in front of Django on his first day.

A couple of medics wheeled in Ryan. "Has anyone seen Villa and Felix?" asked Angel.

***

"Thank you," said Marc, collecting the hair in a wallet-sized transparent plastic bag. "And I apologize in advance for this."

[kronosdragon]

"It's fine," Arlaen said. "Needed a trim anyway."

[Varthonai]

A powerful gunshot went off in the distance, loud enough to make Marc jump even though he had been expecting it.

[kronosdragon]

Arlaen jumped and looked in the direction of the sound, her hair rippling to a very dark shade of brown and her eyes phasing through different colors before stopping at a dark forest green.

[Varthonai]

Marc's eyes flitted to the hair behind the plastic; incredibly, it had changed, too, though not as completely as the hair still attached to Arlaen's head. A good half of the individual hairs were still the same dull gray.

"Again, I'm sorry," said Marc, apologetically. "Are you alright now?"