Seeker

[Michael Vellas]

From the look on the American's face it seemed that Michael had made the right decision to approach him. It was also intriguing. There was hot anger dominant amongst the other emotions he could not begin to discern.

What had the Atharim done to this one? How many lives had they destroyed for their crusade?

The knowledge that they would soon find themselves against a much stronger prey than the frightened, inexperienced 'God', a prey that would have sharper teeth than the predator, was only a grim consolation.

Grim thoughts aside, the tension drained from his body when the man turned to him and spoke. He still held the power that raged through him as a precaution. He would not bare his throat to a Hunter, no matter the circumstance.

Michael answered the question with a vague calm. "Perhaps. I pass by the Kremlin. You may have seen me in the area if you were sightseeing."
He dismissed the subject and returned to the more pressing matter at hand. "By the look in your eye, you were not researching the oroboros for a class. Whatever your reasons, I advise you to lay low for your own good. The old man was right about something. There are some things better left alone."

[Connor Kent]

Connor listened to the kid. He may be young but he wasn't stupid. And while Connor had reacted mostly on the inside- and after the other guy had made his parting...admonishment or warning, depending on whether he was just evangelical or Atharim- how he felt was probably written on his face. The reasons for those feelings could be many, he knew; from what he actually was, a man with a database full of Atharim targets in his pocket, to just a douchey guy who didn't appreciate a contemporary telling him, a grown ass man, what he should and shouldn't be focusing on in life.

Either way though, the kid had picked up on it and pieced it together with the lie he told earlier. Except that he spent many hours in bookstores reading and passing the time himself. He never bothered to analyze the truthfulness of the people around him's conversations unless it was about something he knew. Then, it was all he could do to shut up rather than turn around and tell them that they had no clue what they were talking about.

That intrigued him. There was no reason for him to care about what Connor was talking about- to assess its reasonableness- unless he had knowledge on the subject. Connor smiled at him, his mind piecing it together. Hayden's age, apparently aware of what he was researching, commenting on the other guys warning as if he knew it was all too true. And he looks familiar. AND I've never been to the Kremlin.

"I'm just a guy who works with computers. Can't really lay much lower than that. We're the new janitors of society, sort of. Every building needs us."
He paused and dropped his casualness to speak pointedly to him. "But I do appreciate the warning. Definitely an air about that guy,"
nodding the direction the man'd went.

And then he went back to it. He chuckled a bit. "It's alright work. Sometimes slow. Sometimes we all just end up goofing off or looking at interesting videos on the internet."
He shrugged. "Course, you can't believe everything you see in those, now. Not really. Special effects these days."
He looked pointedly at the kid, hoping he understood. "I'll tell you what, that kind of stuff has really changed since I was a kid. Now, anyone with a decent Wallet can make it look like someone can fly- or really anything!"


He continued to watch the young man. He needed someone he could trust enough to get rid of this damn list.


Edited by Connor Kent, Jul 31 2014, 07:32 PM.

[Michael Vellas]

The man adapted quickly. Quickly enough that Michael was disconcerted by the sudden change of topic that was at first completely random. However, it sunk in by the time he had finished speaking.

Michael was thankful for the bubble of calm embalming him. It explained why he had been recognized, and the slim hope that Nikolai had managed to suppress the video was swept away.

He contemplated a veiled response but found the idea tiresome. Beyond the void he stifled the desire to sigh. He lowered his voice though, so it reached only the American's ears. "So that is why. You know someone like me? The Hunters"
-he wouldn't speak their true name for the man's own sake -"won't spare anyone who helps our kind, but they will find we are not defenceless."
If the man had indeed seen anyone like him - or watched the footage - he would understand. "It would be best if you did not involve yourself at all as 'just a guy who works with computers' but if you find yourself in danger, know that you have allies."

[Connor Kent]

Connor listened and thought. The kid's words were encouraging. An ally. I do need an ally like this. At least until I can get rid of this thing. There were so many dangers about. His mind mulled it over. As he did, his eyes alighted the book the other guy had left open. The guy wasn't around anymore- he was not sure where he'd gotten off to- but he suddenly felt very foolish and exposed just sitting there and talking, however obliquely. He didn't like being there.

"It's good to make friends."
He stood up, picking up the Watkins book but leaving the others. "You remind me of my son. He was maybe a year or two younger than you. Good kid. I miss him."
He looked at the book in his hand for a moment. "We always enjoyed talking about stuff. History. Music."
He laughed. "Even girls. I had hoped that when he got older, I'd be able to take him out and buy him a beer. You know, man to man. Kind of a special thing you know?"
He smiled wistfully. This was real. But he also hoped that the kid was catching his meaning. To make it clear, he paused, then nodded meaningfully before going on. "There's stuff that I wished I could have passed on to him. Stuff the kids life him- like you- should have."


He gestured with his head. "There's a place I saw just around the corner. I'm gonna stop there and get a bite to eat and maybe a drink. You want to join me?"

[Michael Vellas]

A son. Dead, it seemed. So that was the man's connection to the Atharim. That was more than enough reason enough to hate them. He wondered if the American really thought him similar to his son. Surely not if he was a good kid. Perhaps it was for the best, in a way. His son would never have to become a killer, and his father's memories would remain sweet.

Talk of family drew Michael's thoughts to his own. He had not contacted them in a long while. Not since he had told them he was alive and well in Moscow nearly 3 years ago. The pain of separation had been replaced with purpose a long time ago. They were good parents and had given him fond memories but it was best they knew as little as possible.

He was not sure what the American was getting at exactly, but it seemed he wanted to discuss something further. Filling himself with more of the raging river of power, Michael spun nets of warding, pausing for a moment to focus. It was largely redundant, people were passing constantly, but he could find no pattern of an ambush, so he returned his attention to the American.

"Very well,"
he said, standing with the man.

[Armande]

Armande returned to his office to view the results of the recently acquired data from the Repository. He passed by an Atharim that worked directly for him on the way. The man actually was a priest, unlike Armande's position. According to the church, a priest needed to preside over the collection of the Vatican Historical Society, but by their laws, was unable to direct it himself. Therefore, assignment of one individual to the office of the Regus was allowed for the tenure of a given term.

Firas Boshoven was a Dutchman in his late 40's. The man was soft-tempered and serene. He was not a hunter. By his own admission he could never harm another creature be it man or beast. He was also a vegetarian, to Armande's great ilk. To each his own.

"Did you receive the transmission, Father?" Armande asked as Firas followed him into his office.

"Yes. The results are disturbing. You say these men were right down the street?"

Armande nodded as he rounded the desk and activated the work station. Images flashed up all around him. "Yes, one gave me an instant Wallet-recognition, but the other was a nobody, but I suspect both know something about us."

Firas remained quiet as Armande read the file on the younger of the two men. The Atharim had sought him out several times in the past. All of their poor souls met their deaths. The man's image was cross-referenced with news media. Armande frowned and showed the frozen image of Vellas in Dominance V to the stoic Father.

"I sat right next to him, Filas. One of these creatures that'd crush the world in their fist." Disgust bent his tone harsh. Filas seemed sad. As well he should. Powers of gods belonged with the divine. Mankind was not responsible enough to be given such dominion over others. "We do not live in Eden, my child Filas. Adam and Eve wrecked utopia with their arrogance. None of these today, Michael Vellas included, are any wiser than the first creations of God. They will shred the world apart with their claws. Maybe not tomorrow or next year, but they will. They must be stopped." He spoke that last to himself.

The second man was not within their databases. He was in some database somewhere, but they would need to reach out to their Atharim partners in government to discern additional information. For now, the man's image was added to a new file.

Father Filas nodded an understanding, but not without an additional question. "Perhaps they are demons, Regus. The Holy Father is aware of this plan?"

Armande's brows lifted. He sat back in his seat and studied the priest. He was concerned about the taking of life. His concerns became evident when the first gods emerged. Armande was not ignorant of this.

"You were with me when I went to Vatican City, Father. On my word I will tell you that Patricus is not only aware, but gave his blessing. He understands the concept of the greater good. You should meditate on it as well."

He was dismissed with the wave of a hand.

[Connor Kent]

The man stood, agreeing to go. Connor felt relief but also excitement in his stomach. For the first time since he'd gotten here, since he'd learned the truth about Hayden, he felt like he was going to be able to strike a blow for his son. This kid- no, he was a man, however young- was powerful and was famous. Connor Kent was a nobody and that never bothered him. He was content with his small world, with being somebody who mattered to those around him. But this man might take the information he had and use it to do something more important. What he wasn't sure, though it was clear that there was no love lost between the kid and the Atharim. Whatever it was, though, Connor was happy with that prospect. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Connor,"
and then listened to his name.

They walked out the store after Connor paid- cash, since he was still paranoid- for the Watkins book. It did look interesting regardless of the ruse he'd used earlier. He tried to look around and see if they were being followed. But he had no clue what to look for really. He could try to go by movies, of course, but it's not like the writers themselves had ever been followed before. They were all just making it up. But, he had to go on what he knew and that was nothing. With a shrug, he kept walking, not really saying much. The place on the corner was more of a cafe than a bar, Zobrotya's Bistro, but it would do.

They walked in and found a corner table so as to watch the entrance. While they waited for the server to come over, Connor liked at the man. Now that he was here he wasn't sure how to start. Well, best to get things out in the open. He spoke quietly. "My son was like you. He could do magic."
He grimaced at the words, then went on. "I guess you have to learn control. It's the sickness."
The memories came to him and he stifled the lump in his throat that formed. "He, uh, he didn't know how to control it."


Despite himself- despite everything, all the progress he'd made and peace he'd come to- it still was hard to remember. "He died. I was by his side."
He wiped at his misting eyes. "Anyway, I came to Moscow for answers and got them. The magic, the sickness. The Atharim."
That last was very quiet but invested with contempt. Before the kid could say anything he said, "I know, i know, hunters. But I learned of what they would have done to my son, and to his mom and I."
His lip twisted. "That they would put him down like an animal."
He breathed.

"I know not all of them are like that. At least one woman I met wasn't. She told me the truth. She gave me the answers I sought and helped me find peace."
And later she tried to feed off my pain. He pushed that thought away. She had given him a priceless gift. The anger and rage he'd felt at her had diminished. The Atharim had done something to her, for her to change. Another reason they were evil. "Anyway, I know about them. And what they do."
He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the jump drive. "Here. These are their targets, their 'reborn gods.' It's evidence of it all."


He looked from the drive to the kid's face, waiting.

[Michael Vellas]

"Michael," he replied, taking Connor's hand.

The American took him to a little place called Zobrotya's Bistro tucked away in a snug corner. The other patrons were few and respected quiet conversation, keeping to themselves.

Connor led him to a table and it's strategic positioning was not lost on him. Even with the blazing power of the Gods, a mere mortal could still put a bullet through his head at any moment.

Michael listened without speaking as Connor's tale unravelled before him. Most he had gathered from what he had said before, but hearing the blunt reality was sobering by how little he reacted. Connor was as melancholy as any parent would be, and Michael was barely moved.

It was not that he didn't care. He wouldn't even be here if that were the case. It wasn't the power-induced calm either. Outside of the bubble his emotions barely stirred. He had come to expect stories like this - and far worse.

That fact caused him more unease than Connor's story and the unease was rife with irony. The way things were going, the Atharim would be the ones who created the monsters they despised and they would get no sympathy from him.

The troubling thought was abruptly cut from his mind when Connor produced a jump drive.

"Here. These are their targets, their 'reborn gods.' It's evidence of it all."


Michael stared for a moment before taking the drive. His first thought was satisfaction, but his mind explored the danger and opportunity.

How would they react to the breach? Acting sluggishly could put lives in danger if the Atharim decided to take swift action to stop their targets from being snatched away.

Or they could fade away into obscurity if he acted too fast. A knife was far more dangerous in the dark than the one you saw coming.

Two breakthroughs in as many days. It was almost impossible to believe. In fact, one could have said it was too good to be true. Although he believed both Aria and Connor, he could not afford to trust too lightly.

The more he thought about it the potential disasters revealed themselves and hung like a weight around his neck, all before he had even seen the data. It would have been kinder to have destroyed the list before he had ever heard of it but Michael would have it no other way. It was a challenge worth accepting.

Eventually, he gathered himself and returned his attention to Connor. Much of what he wanted to say and explain to the man was pushed aside by immediate necessity. "This information is invaluable,"
he struggled to find words amidst the churning of his mind expanding upon possibilities and actions. "And what do you want from this? I cannot give you any assurances. If you know about them, then they likely know about you. If they ever find out, your life in in danger."


He paused, getting nowhere. "I am grateful for this information, truly, but it is a dangerous gift, and it could spark something that may be worse."

[Connor Kent]

Connor smiled, relief washing over him. It was done. "I don't want anything except to give it to someone who can do something with it."
The waitress came and he ordered a Dos Eqquis Amber with three limes- he'd been doing well for a while and figured it was time. Michael ordered as well.

He waited for the server to get out of earshot and then gave the room a look before going on. "If these....hunters confined themselves to the monsters that are out there, I wouldn't have a problem."
He sighed. "I can even understand their desire to stop those with these...abilities if they tried to hurt others. But they go too far."
His voice became a bit heated. "We kept Hayden home because we'd heard that he would have been in danger. You survived. I know others that have. If he could have learned he would have lived. But they made that impossible. He was stuck trying to control it on his own and he failed."
He exhaled, the anger going out of him. "So no. I don't want anything except to make sure that someone who can do something about it. There are names of targets, hunters, as well as other stuff I'm sure."


He looked at Michael. "I've seen what you did in DV. I know you have rank and power. I know you can do something with it. Or get it to someone who can. That's all I ask."
He looked at the kid for a moment, impressing upon him the seriousness of this to him.

"I got this off a dead girls computer. I'm not sure how she found it, but I don't think anyone else knows. I was careful."
he pulled out his wallet and connected to his secret lockers on the internet. With a few swipes he obliterated them. "There. you have the only copy now. All others are completely gone."

[Michael Vellas]

If Connor thought he wasn't traced, Michael didn't press the issue. He had been warned more than enough today once more wasn't going to help. There was of course the issue of why the hell he had been looking through a dead girl's computer in the first place, and he decided it was better left alone. He had enough to do already.

Already ideas had formed in the depths of his mind and swirled like nets of warding. Except this net was woven by many and he could not see the parts that spun in the murky darkness of the unknown between knowledge and imagination.

It almost impossible to predict the actions of humanity, such was their chaotic nature, but it did not stop countless fools from attempting it. Most often it stemmed from an arrogant belief that they were sufficiently more intelligent than the opposition to know their thoughts, but humanity constantly defied expectation.

Only a human would risk the wrath of a lion prowling on the plains. Only a human could do so and survive. It was what made humans the most terrifying creatures in the known world.

How many lions can I deal with?

The unspoken question was met with appropriate silence, and Michael once again had to force himself to pay attention. Beyond the words, he had barely noticed anything.

His voice gave away nothing but thawed ice. "It's not something that knowledge can control. Not with the Sickness. The only certainty is to be guided by someone. I was fortunate that the native aboriginals retained a memory of something similar."
Most of what they had said was given in vague and uncertain terms, but he had come to understand it better. "The Sickness they described as the body and soul subconsciously struggling to come to terms with the power it has been granted. Those whose cannot accept, die."
He wasn't sure why he bothered to explain. It would not bring comfort to Connor or his family. "Those who survive must then learn conscious control."
That lesson Tony had frequently said was much worse than the Sickness itself and Michael did not disagree. "It is not as simple as convincing yourself - the connection is a far more primal one. Some people die trying to force themselves to accept, others survive not even knowing what happened."


Michael cut himself off as the waiter returned with their drinks. Michael himself had only ordered a water but he did not begrudge Connor for wanting to drink. When the waiter had gone, Michael finished with a vague explanation. "So you can understand what happened to your son."



Edited by Michael Vellas, Aug 9 2014, 11:30 AM.