Continued from A New Home

Calvin opened the door to the cab as it pulled up at the hospital entrance. He paid the driver, giving him a generous tip for the assistance in walking to the cab. The driver helped him into the hospital and a nearby nurse moved ro get a wheelchair. Before she could, Calvin asked for crutches instead, preferring them to the wheelchairs.

The first thing that Calvin noticed was the smell. Hospitals generally have a sterile smell, and with his heightened sense of smell, Calvin was able to smell other chemicals used to keep things clean.

He also picked up the scent of those in the waiting room. If was a part of his gift that he could "smell" the emotions of other people. There were too many scents to count and Calvin had difficulty differentiating the scents, but he could pick up worry, sadness, fear, and anxiety. The effect was like walking into a candle or perfume shop - all the scents mingled together and gave Calvin a headache.

He approached the front desk and the woman behind the counter spoke, "How can I help...you."


She covered her surprise well. Calvin noticed the slight pause as she noticed the color of his eyes. He hadn't even thought about hiding them, but afterall, he couldn't hide them forever. Calvin explained that he needed stitches in his foot and she gave him some forms to fill out, telling him to let her know when he was done so.she could get them without him having to walk on his injured foot. He thanked her and sat down to fill out the forms.

The memory of the last time he was in a hospital forced itself back into his mind as he began to write his name...

Calvin was going out to feed the cows when the phone call came that his wife and son had been in a car accident involving a drunk driver. He immediatly got in his truck and drove to the hospital. He had only arrived when the doctor came out to inform him that they didn't make it. Calvin asked to see them beginning to cry. The doctor took him into the room, and he saw his wife laying on a hospital bed. She appeared to be asleep, but when he took her hand it was cold and there was a large gash on her forehead. He kissed her and said goodbye, continuing to cry. He moved to his son and kissed him on the forehead, remembering that only a few days ago, Benji had caught his first ball. He picked him up and feeling his son's broken body was when he had really realized that they were gone. He put his son down, and began sobbing uncontollably

...Calvin snapped out the memory and and thought Mary, Benji, I hope I will see you again someday.


Calvin reached for the wolves. Being on the outskirts, he was able to sense some wolves farther away. He just sensed them, not comunnicating much except a brief introduction. It brought him some comfort.

He wiped away a tear that had formed during the memory, turning once more to fill out the hospital form.


Edited by Calvin, Jun 11 2014, 01:49 PM.

“Sir, do you have a moment?”


Yulian’s appointed chief ‘ambassadorial escort’ halted him with a firm grip on his shoulder. Two of the twenty escorts in Custody civilian-grade Reinforced Combat Suits confronted him while the others fanned out in a loose formation. They eyed the armed group awaiting them at the end of the deserted hallway with hostility.

Damien stifled his irritation and kept his posture relaxed. He almost regretted allowing Yulian to convince him to bring the man with him. Not yet out of Benito Juárez International and Chief Spatzinov had thrice attempted to usurp his authority under the pretence of ‘anomalous behavioural activity’. “Of course, Chief. What advice do you have for me?”



Spatzinov frowned at his choice of words. Damien met his glare with indifference prompting the spiteful man to answer. “What is this, Oakland? Yulian sent me here to negotiate a contract with businessmen, not armed savages.”



“Yulian sent you to escort me, Spatzinov,”
he said in a firm tone. “You will obey my order unless Yulian sends word to the contrary. Let us proceed.”



Spatzinov’s grip did not lessen. “Those men are armed to the teeth with assault rifles and explosives! I expected a welcoming party, not a military squadron.”



Damien removed the man’s hand from his shoulder and held it in a tight grasp. “We are no longer in the Custody. This is Mexico, and the cartels hold the government by the throat. You should be honoured that Gamez Estande has offered us such protection. It is rare to find a man outside of the cartels with the power or nerve to do such a thing. A man that is exactly what Yulian is looking for.”



Left with no other choice, Spatzinov followed when Damien made for the greeting party at a sedate pace. In his deftly designed suit of deep maroon and Monastral blue he cut a striking figure in contrast to the drab timbres of professional guards. His approach was met with suspicious eyes and nervous fingers drifting towards triggers. Damien spread his arms wide and gave the sour looking Mexicans a smile. “Hola, my friends, I trust Gamez is well?”


“Hola, Mr. Oakland,”
the foremost among them returned in a feminine voice. It was hard to tell with her shaved head and perpetual scowl that Rosita Estande was a woman but life had given her a hard road to follow as heir to Estande’s company and estate. “All is well, although it seems your pets grow weary of their chains.”
She pointed her rifle towards his escort with in a casual motion.

Damien held up a hand to prevent any mishaps. He could feel Spatzinov’s glare boring into the back of his skull. “These men represent Yulian’s interests, Rosita. They have left family and home to honour this agreement with your father. You will treat them with respect.”


Rosita met his eyes and her soldiers shuffled irritably but she did nothing but grunt and gesture them forward. “Let’s go then, Mr. Oakland. We shall see what my father has to say. Tides turn easily in Mexico City, do not count on goodwill to sustain you.”


Mexico City; a city hardened by an unseen civil war. Damien could sense the rotting pestilence that scourged the land. Of instinct, he gripped the Light with impatience, only to let it simmer on the edge of euphoria. There was no other choice but to endure. For now.

When I was writing my bio, we had discussed in the chatroom the idea of wolves having prophecies about the return of the channelers. It was a big part of why Calvin came to Moscow. I'd like to start working on something for the wiki page on the wolf prophecies, but this might be a good place to discuss prophecies in general. Does anyone have any thoughts?

In honor of Nick Trano's enthusiasm to become a US Navy sailor, hackers have posted an errant press release issued by the CCD naming today as national Comic Sans Appreciation Day.




The CCD has issued the following IC statement:

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Quote:</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
The CNI has not, nor ever will, issue a national holiday in honor of a font.

<big><big>Press Release:</big></big>

Consulate on National Integrity

Dec, 2045




The Central Custody of Dominion Consulate on National Integrity (CCDCNI)
has i$$ued the following
pro¢lamation.

Henceforth across the Dominion, today is to be known as





<big>COMIC SANS APPRECIATION DAY!!!</big>


(†here will be a reception at The Kremlin).


/endrelease
<small>/error999</small>

Name: Zoya Bocharov
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Race: Human
Goddess: Amana
Location: Moscow
Occupation: Environmental Scientist, Researcher for the Center for Nature Conservation... Activist
Powers: Female half of the One Power
Strength: 5/36
Experience: New


Appearance: Green eyed, and with delicately chiseled features, the young brunette is 5’5” tall and about 125 lbs. Athletic by nature, Zoya has a svelte and defined figure; the combined result of her love for swimming and running.

Personality: Zoya is a highly spirited, idealistic young woman. While she is not willing to hurt others in the pursuit of her ideals, she is not past committing minor infractions in order to benefit her cause. This, along with her inability to hold her tongue, makes others, on occasion, see her as a tad bit reckless.

Biography:

They say that she was never born, that she exists eternally. She is the personification of both time and eternity.

She lives in the waters. She rules them and their spirits.

At first, she rode the wave that was the Milky Way and created the sun to warm the world. Not having anticipated its strength and fierce heat, the goddess of the rivers and the waters immersed the sun in the ocean each night to protect the earth and all in it.

She is Amana…

Raised along one of the smaller river towns along the Moskva, Zoya has always loved nature and felt a special connection to the rivers and oceans. Always the outspoken one, she was never afraid to give people a piece of her mind.

She had a wonderful upbringing. Her parents loved her and each other. All in all, Zoya had a typical life. From about the time she turned sixteen, however, she experienced bouts of illness. Nausea and headaches that left her in bed for days at a time. Her parents insisted on taking her to the doctor, but she managed to convince them otherwise. The girl had heard of others that had been taken away, and was afraid of the same fate.

It was around the time that Zoya planned on leaving for college, in Moscow, that she noticed something peculiar. Having decided to spend some time with her youngest brother, Zoya took a twelve year old Anton to the river. Everything went well till Anton, despite her protests, climbed a tree and promptly fell into the water.

In the fall, Anton had broken a leg, nearly drowned, and lost consciousness. It took great effort on her part, but she managed to get him out of the river before the current dragged them both too far. In a panic, Zoya did her best to get her brother to wake up. Her attempts at CPR seemed to drag on too long, her fear rising until tears streamed down her face.

When the boy woke up, coughing out water and gasping for air, Zoya was overwhelmed with relief. He was going to be fine, and his leg, she noticed in astonishment, was no longer broken.

After a time, the headaches stopped, and she realized that odd things happened around her whenever she was afraid.

After attaining her bachelors in Environmental Science, Zoya chose to stay in Moscow working for an activist organization known as the Center for Nature Conservation. Manned by volunteers, and largely none profit, she considered it a better fit than a possible position within the government itself.
Edited by Zoya Bocharov, Jun 8 2014, 06:47 PM.

continued from Calvin's Biography

Calvin grimaced in pain as he pulled the shard of the coffee cup out of his foot. He looked at the injury and realized that he would need stitches. Calvin cursed at his carelessness as he hopped to the bathroom to put a temporary bandage on his bleeding foot. The closest thing he had to a bandage was a small towel.

He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his foot, grimacing more as the pain shot through his leg. He secured it the best he could with a t-shirt. He would need to adjust it to keep it on until a more permanent fix was applied, but it would work for now.

Calvin stood up, keeping his weight on his uninjured left foot, and looked in the mirror to see once more the cause of his accident. Before it had been a passing glance, but Calvin got a full look this time. His eyes, previously a dark brown, now were yellow.

No, not yellow - golden.
Calvin thought.

His eyes glowed in the light emanating from the light bulbs in the room. Unsurprisingly to Calvin, they seemed to be very lupine. Thinking of wolves instinctively made him reach out to find them, but he found nothing. The wolves avoided cities and unless circumstances were very dire, he probably wouldn't sense them here. Calvin made a mental note to look for a place to live closer to the country and thanked God that his lease here was only a monthly one. He had enough to live on for awhile. He had a lot of land and had made good on the sale, but without steady employment, he would soon be out.

"So to the hospital and then to look for work,"
Calvin said aloud.

He hobbled back to his living room and sat down to call a cab to take him to the hospital. After receiving a confirmation that a cab was on the way, he hung up the phone, thinking more about the changes in his life.

Calvin chuckled a bit as his thoughts went to stories of werewolves that him and his friends would talk about as kids. He remembered the cheesy movies about werewolves, vampires, and other things that go bump in the night.

Am I a werewolf? No, that's nonsense. They're only stories.
Calvin thought frowning.

But if his friends would have told Calvin not too long ago that some people could talk to wolves and their eyes changed to wolf eyes, he would have looked at them like they were nuts. Calvin began to think that maybe there is some validity to some of the stories, myths, and legends that had been passed down. Maybe werewolves didn't exist, but Whispering Leaf had spoken of the "powerful two legs." Calvin would have to keep an open mind.

A honk came from outside the apartment and Calvin stood and hobbled outside. The cab driver came up to Calvin to help. Calvin kept his head down, looking focused on where he was placing his injured foot. The cab driver didn't notice Calvin's eyes and Calvin sighed gratefully as the driver shut his door and moved around to go to the drivers seat.

The cab driver put the car in gear and began to drive. Calvin adjusted his bandage and looked out the window thoughtfully.

You're here one day and have already hurt yourself. This will be an interesting journey.


Continued in Wolves, Dreams, Memory


Edited by Calvin, Jun 11 2014, 09:38 PM.

<small>((Continued from Honored Guest))</small>


The next few days were a whirlwind for Marcus. There were a lot of orientations with precedures to learn, protocols and requirements to conform to. The CCD was a well oiled machine and he needed to be 'oiled' in order to fit into it. But he was fine with that. Beaurocracy was a necessary part of government, an apparatus of state, and made the order of the world possible- as long as it was efficient, departments working together, people knowing their place and responsibilities, redundancies reduced. And the CCD was just such a government, Marcus was learning from the inside.

He was soon to begin his internship in Communications. What better way to understand the role of the government than by helping shaping its public perception. He would assist in crafting and disseminating that perception, making sure that people's confidence and hope in the government was strong. It was a good motivation for the remaining Consulates he would rotate in to, always being aware how their actions and decisions factored into the public view. Obviously, much of what went on would be unseen and unknown by the people. But to do even that properly, one had to craft an image that would mask what was being really done.

But in the interim, Marcus met many functionaries, aides, and low level employees, people whom he'd be working with closely over the next year- and he hoped, long after that. His compelling of Tamm had had a curious effect. Tamm seemed to think that his talkativeness was an indicator of friendship. Malik didn't see the point in correcting him. Tamm could continue to be useful. He'd taken him to some high end clothiers and Marcus very quickly looked the part of a young and up-and-coming government employee. Through him, too, he met many young members of the bureaucracy and found himself cautiously accepted by that small cadre that viewed itself as the future of the CCD. And why not, he thought pragmatically? He himself knew he was the future. It would be to his advantage to have cultivated a core group of young individuals who could one day be useful tools in his ascent. Of course, his position as a Sigma gave him the proper preeminence in that group, which was on fitting.

So his evenings, in addition to his meditations and Force studies- which he had resumed with renewed vigor after his discovery of the eaves-dropping method- also consisted of socializing. He found that his exoticness proved to be a very charming lure, once he had expressed his honest opinions about America and the CCD and allayed any suspicions. Elena, an aide who worked in the Economic Cabinet in particular, seemed to find him alluring, though of course it was far to soon for him to be making those kinds of connections. He fully expected that his actions were being scrutinized and watched for any unorthodox behavior.

And that led him to a dilemma. He had a tool to eavesdrop, but from his experience in practicing with Andre, he knew that his weaves could be seen by another man who could use the Force. It wouldn't due to have his abilities noted so easily. It would give him away. There had to be a way for him to use the Force without other knowing. Last night he'd thought he might have hit on a clue. He was studying his knot equations describing the weaves of the Force and he noted that one term he was using- the one describing the twisting aspect of the power- was very similar to how the imaginary term i, or j in engineering equations, was used to describe the flow of electricity. It was interesting because being an imaginary number, the square root of -1 - which formed the basis for the complex number system- one would not naturally expect it to show up in something like electrical engineering. As he thought about it and played with those terms, in the back of his mind, the idea of complex numbers sat. In particular, the concept of complex conjugates, terms that mirrored exactly those of another complex number so that the imaginary components cancelled each other out, leaving just the real portion. There's something there, he thought, if I can just tease it out.

Of course, even if he solved it, there would be no other way to test it than by having another Force user try to see what he had done. He couldn't very well send for Andre. They had parted on amicable, though strained terms. Andre had never learned the lessons their childhood had taught them. He remained naive and hopeful about the system, willing to accept the dribbles of attempts at order. He didn't realize that the true solution lay in taking charge yourself. And...it wouldn't due for Andre to know what he was up too. Though he had been careful in what he taught him, Andre was the one most capable of at least exposing Malik and his plans.

So I need to make my weaves invisible. And I need a Force user to practice them with. But one I will have the upper hand with. What would be good would be to identify any Force-user in the government, whether a potential tool or not. Those he could not use, he would be aware of, watching carefully. So he began crafting a method of outing those users, at least to himself. He needed a display that only a Force user could see. That left out fire and earth and water. Wind and spirit then. But wind could be felt. So it would have to be spirit. One of the things Andre and he had practiced were ways to immobilize or confuse your opponent. Andre, surprisingly, had come up with a Force-based flashbang- a flash of light and sound and wind that momentarily surprised him. Malik had almost killed him the first time he'd done it, so stunned was he. But it might work if it was just made of spirit. The weave was fast and simple and almost instantaneous to form. It also dissipated rapidly, so he wouldn't have to hold onto it, giving himself away. Yes. That will do the trick.

The next evening, Malik was in one of the dining halls. It was too bad there wasn't a balcony for this to work better. But he stood in the back where there less people- primarily wait-staff, since most were seated- for him to see over. He seized the force. He felt his stomach writhe with anticipation. He was taking a risk here. He could expose himself if he wasn't careful. But one did not get ahead without taking risks. He thought of the weave he wanted and then in his mind divided the room into quadrants. Quickly he struck, setting off the spirit flashbang. Immediately, he let he weave go and watched the occupants of that quadrant. Nothing. No one stirred. Well, you didn't expect the first time did you? Second quadrant had the same affect. Then, the third- and he heard a glass break. He focused. One of the waiters had dropped his tray but instead of apologetically picking it up he was looking around. Malik smiled broadly, watching the man. Perfect. Just perfect. Just the kind of person he could use. And the bonus was that the man would never be a threat to him.

"You seem happy,"
said Elena smiling as he returned to the table. For once, he couldn't keep his true emotions from showing. She had no idea how right she was.

"I am just very very glad to be here."
And then, to her. "And, of course, to be with you."
To the group. "With all of you."
Inside, Malik laughed and laughed.


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jul 16 2014, 01:20 PM.

Character Name: Calvin Johnson

Age: 33
Birthday: April 3, 2012

Origin: Wisconsin, Currently – Moscow

Occupation: Farmer/Mechanic

Psychological Description: Calvin is a kind and caring man. He has been through a lot of tragedy in his life, but continues moving. He is resilient, calm, and a hard worker. He has very strong beliefs and adheres to them. Calvin gained an immense respect for nature from his mother’s teachings. He has a love for learning and desires to learn more about Native American culture. He doesn’t like hurting people and avoids doing it as much as possible, but won’t hesitate to defend himself if endangered. He likes to help those in need.

Physical Description: Calvin stands 5’10” tall. He is strongly built from manual labor since a young age. His hair is black, starting to gray, and his eyes were a dark brown before turning golden. He has a five o’clock shadow type of beard. His hands are callused from using tools. His attire is plain and functional. He tends to wear jeans, flannel work shirts, and work boots. When relaxing he will switch to t-shirts though.

Powers and Supernatural Powers: Wolfkin

Biography:

Early Life: Calvin was born to Lloyd and Charity Johnson. His father was the descendent of English Immigrants that built a dairy farm outside of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His mother was part Potawatomi. Native American. While growing up, Calvin would often walk with his mother to help find nuts and berries in the nearby woods. She taught him to respect nature and be thankful for whatever he found. From his father, he learned to work hard and complete all jobs to the best of his ability. Calvin’s father taught him how to milk the cows and take care of all the animals (they had cows and chickens). He also taught him how to care for the equipment and repair the tractors and other machines. His parents were loving parents and taught Calvin to always take responsibility for his own actions.

Tragedy: When Calvin was in his late teens, Charity was diagnosed with cancer. She was treated for several years and the doctors did all they could, but when Calvin was 23, his mother lost the fight and passed away. Lloyd lost something when his wife passed on, and began to lose interest in maintaining the farm. Calvin was grieving, but knew he had to be strong for his father, Calvin took over care of the farm full time. He did the chores and took care of his depressed father. His father’s condition never improved as he sank deeper into depression. A year later, his father committed suicide by throwing himself into the Milwaukee River. Calvin wouldn’t have known if his dad had not left the suicide note. He informed the police and a body was eventually found. The farm passed down to Calvin, and he was left alone with his grief. Finally allowed to grieve, Calvin grieved for his mother and father. He continued to work, but stayed by himself mostly. He studied more into his mother’s Native American beliefs and found solace in them. By studying, he began to understand that his parents would want him to be happy. Eventually, he began to work his way back into society. He would go into the city to meet and talk with people at local bars and became involved the community and helping others in community events. He enjoyed working with charities and helping the poor.

Joy and Happiness: Through his community involvement he met Mary Lawyer. They became quick friends. They both grew up on farms and loved spending time in the woods and seeing animals. Calvin and Mary got married when Calvin was 26. She moved into Calvin’s farm and a year later, they had a son, whom they named Benjamin. For the first time in a long time, Calvin felt true happiness.

Tragedy and Dreams: The years passed on. Calvin continued to farm and raise his son. His son grew quickly and Calvin felt a sense of pride as he watched Benjamin (who went by Benji) grow up. The young boy was 4 when his mother took him on a routine trip into the city to get some groceries. On the way back, their vehicle was struck by a drunk driver. Both Mary and Benji were killed in the crash. Once again, Calvin was pushed into grieving. He saw counselors and kept working to deal with his loss. At this time, the dreams began to manifest. He had dreams of wolves hunting in the nearby woods. They seemed so vivid and often Calvin would wake up and feel the need to go hunt. They disturbed him at first, but eventually became almost normal. He expected the dreams and in the dream, he was a wolf. He hunted with the pack and it made him feel alive. Through the dreams, he began to cope with his grief once more.

Political Activity: Calvin once more quit isolating himself and became involved. This time his route was more political. He learned of the Liberty First Party and began to help them campaign. Their ideals spoke to him and he became wary of the CCD. He found a kind of mentor in the words, both written and spoken of Nicholas Trano (used with permission). Calvin purchased all of his books and even got them signed by Trano. He hoped that Trano will get nominated for the Presidency and that will help counter the rise of the CCD.

The Wolf: Time continued to pass, and Calvin’s days were much the same as they had always been. He got up and did the work on the farm. He spent his free time in Milwaukee working with Liberty First or spending time at bars and pubs. His thoughts of his mother and father began to fade as time often makes happen and he had forgotten his research into his mother’s culture. The dreams also faded. On the night of his 32nd birthday, that changed however. He arrived back home to see his cows acting strangely. They were moving more than normal and were making loud and irritated moos. Worried, Calvin quickly grabbed the shotgun he kept locked up in his house and a flashlight to investigate the issue. He moved though the cows calmly, patting some on the head to help calm them down and swept his flashlight across the woods. Eventually seeing some gray fur moving through the brush, he brought up the gun. There was some predator out there upsetting his cows. He didn’t like to kill animals needlessly, but he would protect his cows. He finally saw what it was. A large gray wolf appeared in his vision and began to approach. Calvin felt fear, but brought the gun up to bear, realizing that this could go very badly. Wolves seldom traveled alone, and Calvin wondered why he couldn’t see the pack. The wolf continued to approach and Calvin began to see visions in his head. He saw the gray wolf attacking one of his cows and bringing it to the ground to feast. Calvin surprised even himself when he shouted, “No!” at the animal. The wolf cocked his head sideways, much like a dog does when its master is talking to him. More images flooded into Calvin’s mind as the wolf sat down on the ground. Calvin, confused by the wolf’s behavior, didn’t focus much on the visions as he waited for the wolf to pounce. For an unexplainable reason, Calvin couldn’t bring himself to shoot the wolf yet. Another image pounded into Calvin’s mind – the wolf urinating on a tree nearby – marking its territory? Calvin began to think of his mother again. He remembered her telling him about those that could communicate with animals, and his eyes widened as he realized that the wolf was talking to him. He needed to show this wolf that this was his territory and the cows were his as well. He thought of himself – and then changed it to the wolf form he had in the dreams. He thought of that wolf marking this territory as his own while meeting the gaze of the wolf. The wolf stood back up and readied to pounce as Calvin tried to focus the image and thought of “sending” the image to the wolf.

“No!”
Calvin thought. “This is my territory.”


He thought of himself in wolf form standing in front of his cows with teeth bared, ready to defend what was his to the death. His wolf form stood defensively in his mind, not wanting to attack the other wolf, but ready to accept his attack.
Calvin’s mind snapped back to reality as the other wolf turned and sniffed at a tree before meeting Calvin’s gaze again. Then the wolf turned and retreated back into the woods. Calvin brought the shotgun back down and released the breath that he had just realized he had been holding. He stood, dumbfounded, realizing that he had special abilities. He could talk to wolves.

Calvin took the dreams more seriously now as they began to reappear. During the day he could sense wolf packs in the nearby woods. They respected his territory and had a sort of respect for him as well. The images themselves began to translate to words inside his head, and communicating with the wolves became easier as he practiced. He learned their names, and would let them pass through his territory as long as they didn’t harm his animals. In his dreams, the wolves would help him learn. The wolves told him the dreams were dangerous, but didn’t elaborate much. The taught him how to swiftly move from place to place in the dream. Outside of the dream, he began to study the Native Americans again, trying to gain a deeper understanding of what he could do. He learned that he could sense other peoples emotions – he was able to “smell how they felt.

The Dream and the CCD: Another dream came to him. The wolf who had taught him the most – the same that he met when he discovered his talents – met him there. Calvin had learned his name was Whispering Leaf.

“The powerful two-legs return.”
Whispering Leaf sent to Calvin.

“I don’t understand,”
Calvin said.

“Come. You must follow.”


Calvin shifted to his wolf form and followed the wolf. They crossed the ocean until the wolf stopped with a large building behind him. A city was there, and the wolf would not approach farther. Wolves avoided the cities. Calvin immediately recognized the building. It was the Kremlin. Calvin returned to his human form to scowl at the building.

“Many powerful two-legs have come here,”
the wolf sent to him. “The packs come too. You must go. We cannot. Only in the dream can we cross the poison water.”


Calvin stared at the wolf wondering what happened. They very seldom told him what to do, only giving warnings about the dream and teaching him how to interact with them. Whispering Leaf moved behind him and pushed him forward, urging him to the city.

Calvin awoke with a start. His path was clear. He had to go to Moscow – the seat of CCD power. Why? He wouldn’t fit in there. Perhaps some grand purpose would appear to him there. He looked around and saw a picture of his mother and father sitting next to one of his own wife and child.

“What do I do?”
he asked aloud.

He decided to eventually leave and immigrate. It took almost a year to get all the legal issues done. His political friends were confused by his decision, and though maybe he had snapped from his grief. They tried to push him to stay, but he was resolute. He sold his farm and his possessions, keeping only the pictures of his family, some books (Trano’s mostly), and some clothing. He boarded a plane and went to Russia. He found a small place to live and hoped to eventually set up a garage to repair vehicles. The morning after he arrived, he went through his morning routine. He had a cup of coffee and as he passed the mirror he dropped the cup. It crashed to the floor, shattering the cup. A piece of the cup cut his foot and the coffee burned, but Calvin would never forget what he saw in the mirror. His dark eyes had changed to a golden color.

Edited by Calvin, Aug 1 2014, 03:19 PM.

Throwing this out there.

Terez's post about RJ's notes. In case anyone else was interested; although the formatting of the website makes my brain hurt.

On our scale, I was noticing the "minimum level to become adept, expert, master" numbers. Taking that information, since Jaxen is new, do I need to keep him under level 5? Or can you be a "new" channeler and still be stronger?

Also curious what happened to the 66 levels? And about the reversed order?

I like the expansion, though. Hope more good stuff comes out of RJ's notes.