Continued from Spilled Drinks


Despite what the rumors in high school said, this was Jay's first experience in the back of a squad car. His hands were dormant, but wrenched behind his back hard enough to put his shoulder at a questionable angle. The interior of the car door was disturbingly flat. No handle to open. No arm rest jutting out. Just padding. Best not think about being locked in a box. He forced his gaze higher. As they departed the scene, the glow of red and blue flashes faded. The city seemed darker, now. This was no area of glittering towers or historical buildings. In fact, Jay had no idea poorer areas of Moscow even existed.

His memory swirled with the events of the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday he was excited by the prospect of a night out of uniform for once. Not that he wanted to leave it behind. It felt strangely wrong to walk around in a regular shirt and jeans, just as walking away from duty for a well-deserved night of freedom was wrong, but he did it anyway. Sane people took nights off. A concert was suppose to be fun.

Enter cannibal monsters. Jay had seen the worst of humanity. There were enough bodies at his feet to attest to it. Maybe he was one of them. But at least he was a monster that killed something worse. But cannibals. Right in the middle of chaos. If he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes, he wouldn't believed it. Coincidence put Nox there. If anyone else sat the next seat over, Jay would have enjoyed this nice ride last night rather than delaying it a day.

The comings and goings of other police vehicles caught his eye. The car approached a precinct and a voice came over the intercom. Jay only barely heard it from his padded box. He shivered at that thought.

"Hinshaw. Come in."
"This is Hinshaw." The officer responded. Jay stretched his senses, listening.

"Reroute suspect to beta four thirty."
"Ten-four."

They sped away from the precinct and Jay looked over his shoulder as the building blurred by. He frowned. This wasn't boding well.

When he was eventually pulled from the vehicle and a black bag thrust over his head, he realized this may have been a bad idea.

Giovanni didn't see many people. With the exception of Aaliyah, he saw almost no one. Aaliyah alone knew his name as well. An air of mystery surrounded him and in some way that help draw people into this change that had surrounded their local branch of Al Janyar.

One exception was the man in the room with them. Giovanni didn't remember his name. All he really needed was the man's title anyone. He was a Captain that had served Ibrahim. He helped organize the troops for Al Janyar in Egypt. Now he was one of Giovanni's advisers.

"Overall, things are going well. There were a few dissenters. They have been appropriately dealt with."


Giovanni nodded. Aaliyah stood at his side as always. She was after all his voice. Most of the time he didn't speak to those who came to him. The Captain was an exception.

"Good,"
he said. "The troops will need to be prepared. They will go on a trip with my Priestess. We need to secure the other branches of Al Janyar."


The Captain looked perplexed. "I don't understand?"


Giovanni showed no emotion on his face. "For too long has this group not lived up to its potential. Fragmented leaders who have long feuded with each other. I will bring them together - and in that way, we will see our goal."


"We don't have enough - not enough to go abroad and protect our interests here."


Giovanni nodded. "Then we must find more - begin recruiting. Dismissed."


The man bowed his head and left.

"A scientist wanted to see you today - an archaeologist as a matter of fact."
Aaliyah said after he left.

Giovanni looked at her quizzically. "Why?"
Giovanni absentmindedly opened a book and began perusing it's pages.

"He worked for Ibrahim. Dr. Pierce is his name. Ibrahim was obsessed with finding rare items. For his prestige. He wanted to know if you wanted him to continue digging."


A picture caught Giovanni's eye. For reasons unknown, the image struck a chord within him. "What is this?"
Giovanni said, pointing at the picture.

"The Eye of Horus,"
she answered. "An ancient Egyptian symbol of protection, royal power, and good health, I believe."


Giovanni smiled. "Yes - tell your Dr. Pierce to keep working. And anything he finds with this symbol should be brought to me immediately."


Aaliyah bowed as she turned. "As you command."



Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Jan 12 2018, 02:48 PM.

Age: 22 (2046)
Origin: Madrid Spain
Occupation: Currently Studying Computer Engineering at Moscow University
Channeler: Adept
Power: 7/20
Reborn God: no

Personality:

Cruz is a spoiled rich kid who gets what he wants when he wants it. He’s smart and intuitive and despite his upbringing pulls straight As, maintains a part time job at Jivana (remote work while at MSU). He’s a bit of a snob.

Description:

Dark hair, blue eyes a spitting image of his father when he was younger. He likes to wear fashionable clothes and is always wearing the latest styles. Cruz has no tattoo or scars.

History:

Cruz was born of a nefarious plan by his father, Dorian Vega. A parentage that Cruz is well aware of since he turned 13 and his mother, Anastasia Vega, was Christian Rosario making out poolside at their home. It was a secret that he wasn’t supposed to know. At 13 Cruz had snuck out of classes and returned home to find them kissing poolside. Which opened the conversation about his father, his mother and their relationship.

Cruz had never questioned why his mother was kissing the hired help. But he always wondered why his father let it happen. It had all been very shocking for a 13 year old boy to comprehend, but his father was always busy and there was little time to think about it anyway with classes and his job at Jivana Corp, his grandfather’s medical technology business that he was heir to in lieu of his father.

Cruz had the very best that life could offer. Vacations anytime he wanted. The best toys, fancy cars when he was old enough to drive. Dorian bought him anything he wanted because he was never around. Christian was more of a father than Dorian had ever been.

The most adventurous thing Cruz had ever done in his life is move to Moscow with his father. He hadn’t moved because he wanted to be with him, but he wanted to be away from his grandfather. He still wanted the VP position in RnD and he still wanted to run Jivana one day, but he wanted to be free of the pressure Emilio Vega put on him day in and day out. Cruz had no doubts as to why his father never chose the life.

The world was every changing. And Cruz was at the heart of the change - Moscow. He’d known it when he came there that his life would be different. He hadn’t realized how much. It was finals. He and his friends were tired. They’d studied hard. Dealt with things only college kids deal with. All nighters for weeks on end studying to get those grades.

And then Cruz fell sick. No idea why, but he was on his death bed. His father was panicking. It was obvious when he had found him lying in the stacks of the library. And then a fellow cop came to him. Helped him to understand it. And While Ivan had taught him to touch the power, it was another who taught him how to use it. Nox was unconventional. He understood nothing about it he only played with it till it did something. There was nothing scientific about it. But it got the job done. And what Nox could teach him his father hated - all the more reason to learn it.

His knowledge was not even half of what Nox’s was. But Nox taught him that experimenting was alright, just be careful. He expressed that increasingly as Cruz learned.

[[Character story from Jacinda Cross biography]]

[[Narrative continued from Spilled Drinks]]]

The rest of the night and the next day were slow going. Yeah. Understatement of the year. She tried to help the others with the unloading and figuring out what to do with Stephan. But she had trouble focusing. Annemarie and the other squints were all freaked out. She was tired and didn't have the energy to bring everyone down. She hoped Yoshi would do it when they met up. He was far more chill and zen anyway.

Everytime she tried to move, her lower back spasmed in pain to the point that she had to freeze just to breathe. She had to admit, she wasn't 20- or even 30- anymore. She was gonna have to start being more careful. It had been a brutal take down. She was bruised all over her back and arms, though it was the lower back pain that got all her attention. They'd lost people. But hopefully it was worth it. Dead God. Actual god. Not some dumb kid.

Normally, she'd celebrate. I mean seriously celebrate. Go out for drinks. Maybe find someone to blow off some steam with. But she was hurt. She hesitated to go to a doctor. She wasn't sure she was on anybody's radar and with them being outed and all- and the fucking Atharim registration, of all things. What kind of idiot would even think to do that?- she kinda wanted to go to ground. Hole up and think. Lick her wounds.

And heal. This was the hard part about being part of a team. The down time together. She'd been alone for a long time, able to come and go as she pleased. Most of the time she was good either way. But when she was tired, when she needed to recharge, it was tough to be around others. Small talk was stupid.

So finally she was able to break away. She still was wearing her clothes from the attack yesterday. Changing hadn't appealed to her at the time. Just get everything done and get out. She felt trapped, with them.

She had gotten Annemarie calm enough to at least find her a quiet safehouse to head to. There would be medical supplies if she needed it. And pain killers. And the greatest one, a nice cold beer or something.

She limped along until her wallet indicated her ride had come. The destination was in the Enlightened District, not too far from where the mansion had been. That turned her stomach. She and Yoshi and Hood and the others were proceeding along as if nothing had changed. And in some ways, that was true. The fight was always gonna be there.

But the Regus was gone, burned to death in the fire. She wasn't sure what that meant for the Atharim, as a group. She was dropped off a couple blocks away- no record of her destination on any system, obviously- and she carefully made her way.

So....the Atharim. Would it be more like it was back home in the US, now? Less organized? In some ways, that would be better. Hunting for creatures didn't require a lot of people- a small team was usually fine, if not one person.

But these returned gods? They needed more weapons. And they needed a lot more people. And strategy. That much she had learned.

She palmed the door- glad the security cloud was redundantly replicated where ever it was- and entered.

She stopped. Every place had a feel. Something in the air. The way it moved, the way it smelled. Even the way it responded to you.

Someone was here. Atharim, of course. Well, probably. She unholstered her gun- she wasn't up to swinging her staves. God she hoped she didn't have to fight. Twisting might just make her cry in pain. And not in the good way either, like the pain when you were really sore and stretched out or when you were getting inked.

"Hello?"
she called out as she carefully moved past the front entrance- purposely designed to funnel in case of attack. She wanted out of that kill zone, if there was trouble.


Edited by Jacinda, Jan 24 2018, 12:33 PM.

Dr. Kinnaird said she'd see him later. He and Christian were left alone in the room watching the news flying across the screen. Sage hated watching the news it was depressing and the anchors only told you what someone else thought you needed to know. Sage wanted to know what was going on behind the scenes.

He'd reached for the processor several times but stopped as soon as he felt the whirr of the processor kicking into gear. He sighed. "A lot harder than it should be."


"What is?" Christian asked.

"Not doing what comes naturally."


The other man smiled and stood up with his bag and pulled out Sage's laptop. "I figured you'd want this." He started to hand it to Sage but Christian pulled it away quickly. "Only if you promise you won't connect to it. Only typing."

Sage sighed. "How are you going to know?"


Christian looked over at the monitors that were above his bed. "Up there, when you use it your brain activity goes off the chart."

Sage sighed. "Dr. Kinnaird will know when I do and then I can't go home."


Christian nodded. "Promise, Sage. I won't leave it here with you otherwise. I need to get back."

"I promise."


Christian smiled then came over to him and patted his shoulder. "All of you boys are like family. Don't do anything stupid Sage. None of us will forgive you. And then you'll have to explain to Ana, why you did what you did."

Sage knew he had paled a little at that thought. He'd never had a mother who had cared. But Ana was taking the cake and eating it too. Cruz was lucky to have Ana and Christian in his life. He guessed he was too now.

Christian set the laptop on the table in front of him and waved his farewell. Sage was left alone with the one thing he wanted more than anything - information.

Jensen barely squeezed out of the subway car. A big folded sign smacked him in the shoulder. He grunted, but the man holding it hurried away. The platform was packed with people trading places on and off the train. "Are you going to the Patheos rally?" The man stuck in people alongside him asked.
"Yes,"
he replied quietly.
"Me too." The stranger added, but they were quickly separated before Jensen could follow.

He made it to the surface, only to find a cold rain had begun to fall. It gathered into puddles wherever the sidewalk dipped and soaked the lower hem of his pants. It didn't seem like a spring day, but he would never get used to Moscow's weather patterns.

It was a long wait in a line full of wet, cold people. He waited in line behind Jewish men, identified by the kippah pinned to their hair. A glance over his shoulder, only moments after he got in line, and a dozen others had already joined. Among them was a well-dressed young man in a black and white suit Jensen would bet was a mormon. A gentleman of color was dressed in the long tunic of a Hindu, his hair also wrapped modestly. In strange contrast, a couple stood behind him that at first glance seemed completely ordinary, but the longer Jensen looked, the woman's boho skirt and crystal necklace and the man's loose jacket and headband made Jensen wonder if they were pagan.

The line moved more swiftly than he thought it would, and soon he was at the front. He paid the small fee, registered his name and went through the pat-down and scanner without incident.

He shook the water from his coat and hair. The stadium was covered, thankfully.

It seemed the steps leading to the field were endless. A brief scan found no available seats.

A familiar voice came up beside him, "I see you made it."
Jensen recognized the man from the subway platform. He had neatly styled hair and was cleanly-shaven. His wool coat was as soaked as Jensen's.

"I was almost swept away in the flood out there, but yes, I made it."
He smiled slightly.

They both studied the field below. Stages were set up. Wide platforms were set up with a number of empty chairs. A wide sign illuminated the word Patheos behind it. Jensen wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but the time slot for the rally indicated the speakers were on a break.

"What brings you to the rally?" The gentleman inquired.

Jensen wasn't entirely sure how to answer that. Patheos was an online community of every major religion in the world. Their rally at a Moscow sports' stadium was to talk about the meaning of all the changes in the world of recent, and the impact it had upon the spiritual world.

He took a deep, thoughtful breath. "Guidance? Answers? Perspective? Maybe it's none of those things."
He shrugged.

"I know what you mean." He agreed. It seemed Jensen wasn't the only lost soul out there. The stadium was filled with thousands of them. He offered a handshake, "Sigvard Viggo," he introduced himself and the name matched his northern european accent.

"Jensen James,"
he replied and reluctantly shook hands.

Sigvard nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Pastor."

Jensen sighed. He should have provided a fake name after all. "A pleasure to meet you too."



Edited by Jensen James, Jan 6 2018, 11:46 AM.

Li saw the press release sitting at the top of his wallet. He had a dilemma to deal with now. He was a god. He was Atharim, and now the Ascendancy was calling for registration for all 'gods' and the Atharim.

Both forms sat staring at him on his laptop while he sat in his hotel room at the Ritz. It was not an easy decision. Signing up for magic registration meant outting himself to the Atharim. But if he signed up on the Atharim he'd have to be interviewed and potentially judged on his choice of work. But if he didn't to the latter he would forever be worried about getting caught as a terrorist.

Registering for both would save some hardships he thought to himself. But it was a hard decision. He had thought long and hard on the situation and it seemed his fingers were acting without hesitation as he typed up his magic registration. But his finger hovered over the button before he moved on to the other form.

Li sat and stared at the forms and pressed submit and turned off his computer. This could end his career he had to tell his agent.

The day that she was given her credentials was a good day. She rode the subway to the Red Square station and walked to the visitor's entrance in the same sort of awe as when she met Marcus. Only, the difference today, was when she stopped at a check-in to report it was her first day on the job. Technically, there was no lab yet as it was still under construction, but she had been busy the last few days preparing for it anyway. There were orders to place, plans to approve, and employees to filter. She still wasn't sure what to do with her students, but she hoped that Marcus would allow them to come along.

Despite the fact that she wore a rather simple black, pants suit she felt sorely out of place. Everyone she passed in the halls were dressed immaculately. Even the man answering the phones had a hawkish look on his face and wore a freaking pocket square in his jacket.

She was given a temporary office to use. It was quite a bit smaller than the office she occupied at MSU, but it was near Consul DuBois' office. She didn't want to know what happened to the person that recently vacated it.

It was hours past dinner time when she finally packed up her stuff and got ready to leave.

Evelyn's sleep was restless, unsurprisingly. She dreamed of hawks swooping from the air, nipping at her. Not to mention that it took ages to fall to sleep anyway. She'd always prided herself on her ability to sleep any where and any time. Perhaps if she had someone to stroke her hair or hum softly, she may have lulled away quicker. Alas, her mind swam with a thousand thoughts. There were so many things to do. So many people to consider. Then, deep down, something nagged her heart, but unable to decipher the message, she ignored it.

FIrst and foremost, she was going to have to watch every nuance to her behavior, every flash of her eyes, and every word she said around Ascendancy. Nobody else could be allowed to know of their relationship. If it was revealed, it would undermine all her work. She would be dismissed as a silly girl, something she already battled being the youngest Congresswoman in history, and all her hard-earned authority would be wasted.

She rubbed the tired from her eyes, dressed and composed herself for their state breakfast. Sofia had already sent her a message asking what time they would meet to walk down together. Evie replied with a time, and inquired as to whether the Secretary of State would join them. No. He's already down there. She thought it odd, but if Sofia said nothing more on the matter, Evie wouldn't read any further into it until it was called for.

She and Sofia Castilla had a great relationship. The chairwoman of the committee, and ranking member as well, was a fellow democrat and threw the weight of her support behind Evelyn's appointment to this otherwise prestigious and hard-earned committee spot. They spent a great deal of time strategizing together over the specific deals they sought to reach with Ascendancy. Some of them were quite practical, but most were efforts in name only. Evie wasn't so girlish and innocent as to think the CCD hadn't utilized power in foreign affairs. For one thing, that blasted video of Commander Vellas in Dominance V proved her exact theory, but neither was she foolish enough to believe US covert operations were completely free of powers. But if the two countries to put to paper (figuratively) their mutual agreement to withhold channelers from combat operations, it would be a start. One of the problems brought up by Evelyn to accomplishing this altruistic goal was that just because the US and CCD agreed to withhold channelers from military operations, other nations were not so easily agreeable. Africa, for one, was rumored to harbor channelers in battle. Nothing so large as to attract large-scale media attentions, but the rumors existed. Similar word drifted out of Mexico as well. Even though she forewarned Sofia, the Secretary of State, and even Secretary Trano of these dangers, she also admitted that as the world's two largest super powers, the CCD and USA could set the example and even demand that worldly authorities follow in their stead. Enforcement would be difficult, true, but they had to try.

Thoughts of Africa certainly conjured memories of the night before. Ascendancy promised a ball to benefit the continent in her honor. He'd taken her hands and begged her to keep him to his word so that every dollar could aid the needy. Evie blushed momentarily, then frowned and dabbed extra powder to her cheeks to cover the rosy hue. Using the power for the greater good would be the more worthy calling for both nations. Two or three skilled channelers could replace heavy, dangerous labor, which would cut costs and save on insurance premiums. Teachers could identify children before they became sick and died from the channeling sickness. So on and so forth.

Of course, this was all a moot point if the USA joined the Custody. Maybe it really was inevitable. There was an entire faction of democrats who thought just as much. They claimed that the US and other countries were living in antiquity, clinging to individual currencies and flags when the clear, economic, and social benefit was derived from one world government, one world currency, and one world leader. Would war not cease to exist if the boundaries of nations dissolved and all were one? In fact, except for one minor uprising last year, an unprecedented time of peace overtook the middle east. Evelyn practically gawked at the transformation in that part of the world. Criminal powers in the Asian subcontinent were rooted out. The lack of competition between nations made trade all the freer. It did make sense. Ascendancy ruled for more than twenty years and had certainly proven himself time and time again. Yes, there were allegations of some human rights violations and abuse of power, but Evelyn would not pin those on Nikolai himself. Maybe somewhere in the middling levels of government where oversight was thinned the allegations may be true. But no where was perfect. Such controversies were rampant throughout DC as well. Evelyn was not involved in any personally, but she had eyes and ears. Things went unspoken. It just meant there was an area to improve.

Her mind was more settled by the time she sent Sofia her message that she was ready. The Senator knocked on her door a few minutes later.
"Good morning, Sofia,"
Evelyn began. Her voice trailed off when Sofia entered her room, closed the door behind her, and turned with one penetrating accusation.

"Traitor."


Evelyn blinked, speechless.

Edited by Evelyn, Jan 1 2018, 09:41 PM.

Scion Marveet
PPC


Scion was occupied with financial spreadsheets when he decided to call the numbers set and wet his throat. His office was complete with a wet bar, but he passed on the vodka in lieu of a bottle of water. His doctor insisted on more of the stuff every day, or else he would be subject to a fucking battery of tests that made him feel like a lab rat.

Sparkling water bubbling away in a crystal glass, Scion held it up to the light in order to admire the quality. Vena gave him the set of goblets. They were Baccarat Crystal and exquisitly made. She was a good girl (in the worst sorts of ways), that knew just when to stroke his ego and when to back down. She might actually stick around a while.

A government announcement overtook his screen. When Scion saw it came from the executive office of the Ascendancy, he quickly maximized the view and listened to the script. The news of a ball was intriguing. He absolutely had to be in attendance. There was simply no other option. If only that old goat Valentin Sulteev would finally die, or even retire, his seat on the Sphere would finally open. Scion had every intention of taking it for himself.

Ascendancy would show off his channeling. Scion scrubbed his chin thoughtfully. This whole ordeal with channeling was certainly a whole new angle. How to play it?

Of course, he did have a child that could channel. He selected a call command on his desk. To the face that appeared once the connection was made, "Bring my son Jaxen to me."