Byrant Park? Shit. Maybe he should have learned the layout of the city before getting involved in something like this. Okay, no worries, he could do this. Byrant. Was that the one with the statues? No, that was Wedger. Dammit.
Wait, did he mean Bryant? Probably. That makes it easier. Bryant was the so-called wilderness park. Not that the trees they'd planted had survived for long in Urbis' climate. He thought he knew the general area where the park was located, and, you know, it shouldn't be easy to miss an entire park. He could find it easily enough.
"I know it," he said smoothly. "I can give you a lift there, it's not too far out of my way." True enough, he thought. "My car is just across the street there--as soon as the light turns red, we can just...ah, there we go. Come on." He stepped out into the now-stopped traffic and began making his way across the street. He didn't look back; Dyme would be following, he was sure.
Just a short drive, a little reconnaissance, send the kid in to gather information, and then...we'll see.
Yeah, I'm sorry guys, I can't think of anything I want my character to do that would really make sense in the universe, so I'm going to officially bow out of this one. I'm sorry, but good luck you guys.
Dyme pulled open the passenger-side door of Christian's car and hopped in. Noticing the stereo system on the interior, Dyme instinctively flicked the radio on and switched it to a channel he liked. Dyme glanced up at Christian and was about to ask if this was alright, when he noticed which song was playing and any thoughts outside of it completely escaped his mind. Y'see, this was one of those songs where, if you knew the words, it was impossible not to sing along to; and know the words Dyme did. He started off by humming along to the heavy guitar part that served as an intro (actually whipping out his axe and jamming along would have been impractical in this small enclosed space), then sung along quietly to the first verse. Christian may have said something, but if so Dyme didn't notice; when he was getting into a song, there wasn't a force on earth that could tear him away from it. At last, when it reached the chorus, Dyme truly entered the flow of the song; he ceased mumbling the lyrics and and cried out with passion:
"Here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!" [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OI2COawqMJQ]
And then a cluster of leaves out on the pavement flew up and started swirling around in the air, and then just as suddenly a trashcan was picked up off the ground by a massive gust of wind, flying straight upwards before dropping and crashing down on the road, only slightly to the right of Christian's car. Dyme abruptly stopped singing. "Uh... sorry about that..."
"Shit!" Christian couldn't help but flinch and swerve a little as the trashcan slammed down next to his car. "Was that...uh...shit."
He looked at Dyme, and then at the trashcan rapidly receding in the rear-view mirror, and then back to Dyme. He didn't say anything for a moment, just sat there putting things together in his mind, and then he slowly reached out and, very carefully, switched the radio to a classical station.
There was a moment of Beethoven.
"So," said Christian finally. "Music. That's a new one."
"Uh, yeah." Dyme looked out of the side-window, doing everything he could to avoid meeting Christian's eyes. "This is probably as good a time as any to tell you, so... yeah. I'm, uh... one of them." Dyme rubbed the back of his head and glanced around the interior of the car, still avoiding Christian's gaze. "That's not... that's not going to be a problem, is it?"
"A problem?" Christian hesitated for a brief second. This kid knew the danger in telling him this, right? The Company tended to put bounties on supers of any type, and though Christian hadn't made a habit of collecting those bounties, one such as this couldn't help but be tempting. The Company paid good money, and this kid, he would be so easy...this kid who had all but admitted he was a super. Like Lier.
Like Christian.
"No," said Christian, turning smoothly onto Bryant Avenue, "no problem. Unless by them you mean the IRS." He smiled. "Just, you know, try not to do anything to the car, hey? I'm kind of attached to this thing." He nodded to the left. "The park's right over there. As soon as I can find a parking space you can head off and meet your friend."
Parking proved to be easy enough--not many people came to this poorly-mantained section of the park. Christian couldn't see Damien Lier from where he parked, which after careful consideration he decided was a good thing.
Before Dyme got out of the car, Christian had one last thing to say.
"Good luck," he said. "And...if anything goes wrong, like Lier turns out to be not as nice as you thought, you know...call me. I'll see what I can do, okay?" He smiled, awkwardly this time. "Peace out, man."
Dyme waved through the window of the car, smiling a little glumly. "Bye bye..." Dyme considered that he may never see this man again; this samaritan who had been nice enough to help him track down a potentially dangerous person out of nothing but the kindness of his own heart. He'd turned away from the car and was walking off into the park, and he mentally shook himself. That was silly thinking; he had his phone number after all, didn't he? Dyme promised himself that, as soon as this was over, he'd ring Christian up and organize a way to thank him properly for all his kindness.
Dyme wandered about the park for maybe 10 minutes - long enough by far to have left Christian's eyesight, and thus any form of aid he could have expected should things turn nasty - before he found Damien sitting on a bench. Dyme was approaching from behind, so it didn't seem as though Damien had noticed him; it looked like Damien was alone, and glancing around, Dyme didn't see another person in the park for a fair way in any direction.
Dyme considered walking over and tapping Damien on the shoulder, but then remembered who it was that he was meeting and that he'd more likely than not end up dead, or at least comatose, if he snuck up on him like that; instead, he opted to find a less risky means of alerting the pair to his presence. "Hello, Mr. Lier!" he called, waving his arms. Oh, gosh darn it; he wasn't supposed to say his name, was he? "I mean, uh... hello there, sir! Could I interest you in a Bible?" What!? What sort of nonsense was he babbling now? It was just the first thing that had come to mind, and Dyme hadn't really thought about what he was saying before saying it... ah, well. There was no taking it back now, and at least Damien knew he was here...
Uh, the Clown's hidden in a bush, or at least has tried to hide in a bush. If you're gonna insist on seeing him, at least acknowledge his attempt to hide. (Or, on the other hand, just don't see him...)
One should be careful what one calls out when one is a fugitive by one's very nature; the walls have ears, as indeed do the trees. It wouldn't have been so bad, but those who watch were already on guard, and now they were listening intently.
A slight hint might take some time to track, but they had the trail now...
Uh, the Clown's hidden in a bush, or at least has tried to hide in a bush. If you're gonna insist on seeing him, at least acknowledge his attempt to hide. (Or, on the other hand, just don't see him...)
Damien cursed. "Idiot!" He thought. "Shout my name for the world to hear, why don't you? I might as well paint a target on the back of my head, save Carter some trouble!" Damien raised an eyebrow. "No thank you sir, I'm atheistic. Also, I believe you have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Carter, thank you very much." Damien shook Dyme's hand "[sub]Next time, say your name instead of mine. 300 million attracts many a listener. Sorry for kneeing you, by the way. I knew if it seemed I attacked you, I might get another thousand dollars to my head, but you at least would come out fine. I tried to hold back.[/sub]" He shrugged. He patted Dyme on the back and motioned for him to follow. "James, come on. The kid is here." He hissed to James. "By the way sir, I never got your name. Tell me, why do you believe in God?" He nudged Dyme. "[sub]Go along with it.[/sub]" He whispered.
"My name? Uh..." Dyme thought fast, and came out with the first thing that came to mind. "My name is Bruce Wayne. As to why I believe in God..." Dyme racked his brains. Think, think, THINK!
"The reason I believe in God is thus; yes, the basis for my theistic beliefs is, indeed... you know what, it's rather a long story, and now may not be the best time to tell it, as I suffer from fairly delicate skin, so if I stand out in the sun for too long there's a chance I'll burn to death; it's a plague that my family's suffered from for generations, ever since my great great grandfather, the first prime minister of Australia..." What the hell was going on!? Dyme had started spouting rubbish, and he was finding it fantastically difficult to stop.
"I tell you what, sir; how about you and your associate accompany me back to my enormous and luxurious family manor, where I can inform you of all the wonders of God, and why you should love him and stuff." For some reason, Dyme had devolved into a fantastically unconvincing British accent since the start of his speech, and he now found himself thoughtfully twirling a non-existent moustache. Gesturing widely, he set off ahead of Damien and James, then subtly trailed back so that Damien was leading again.
James emerged smoothly from the bush, with only the faintest of rustles. He dusted himself off, picking the leaves and other plant matter from his hair. "Hello, my name is James vex, sorry for the desception but it was neccessary, I am with Damien." he said quietly as he extended a pale hand to Dyme. "This boy better be worth the trouble, I could be earning right now, or be in my house or.... never mind, just go with it James." he thought himself grumpily.
The scene of the crash was still rather hectic when Saul arrived. A large number of people were gathered in the area, some just arriving as word spread about the turbulent events, and others apparently recovering from some traumatic experience. There was still some yelling and screaming going on, signs that whatever had happened went a little deeper than an automobile accident. Though nobody was actually running for their lives or swinging weapons around, it was clear that people were scared. The typical law enforcement and emergency personnel had arrived a few minutes prior. Only one person was being loaded into an ambulance, which was good, but the cops seemed to be locking down the area pretty hard, which was odd for a simple traffic mishap.
Saul was back in his regular clothes again, standing a little ways off under a sidewalk tree, watching the area like any other curious spectator. The police tape surrounding the wreck prevented him from getting too close, but he wouldn't have wanted to anyways. It wasn't necessary, and would draw too much attention to him. He had better eyes in the buildings nearby anyways.
"There was a presence." Raleigh said in an absent tone as he walked over to Paul's side. He kept his eyes on the crash scene mostly, feigning only partial interest in conversation. "People are hysterical over a seeming freak invasion. Dozens of supers purportedly started raining from the sky right after the crash and springing out of holes in the ground. There were dozens of the weirdos!" He added in an exclamatory voice as a pedestrian passed close by.
Saul pressed his lips together with a frown and then let out a low whistle. "Madness!"
Raleigh continued in a low voice as soon as the bystander had gone. "I'm guessing more like two or three. But still, that's a lot for one place. One of them managed to tear some pretty big holes in the concrete." Saul nodded, also noting the blue Toyata's roof, which hung by a thin strip metal from the side of the vehicle.
The two turned away from the scene and set off down the street. One corner and half a block away they turned aside and entered the large office building that overlooked the crash. It was in the process of changing ownership and remodeling into a pharmaceutical factory, so for the moment they had it all to themselves. Reggie greeted them just inside the entrance with a smile and a nod, radioing their arrival. Two flights of stairs and a quick jaunt through a very empty-looking former cubicle farm led them to the defunct conference room the others had set up in. Bob sat near the window in an office chair he had somehow procured; his rifle remained in it's compact case on the floor. Martin had several radios set up in front of him, which he attended diligently. Ramses stood in the corner, his arms crossed, looking intimidating as usual. The man was dressed to look like a government investigator; long black trench coat, broad sunglasses, and a fake head of hair which suited him perfectly.
"Enjoying your youthful locks, gramps?" Raleigh asked with a grin as he walked in. Ramses smiled but said nothing, stepping over to the window and glancing out over Bob's shoulder before turning to Saul.
"They were all very tense, but I did manage to get a little bit out of them. It seems somebody higher up wasn't satisfied with their response time. There was a fallout of some sort between two of the officers; one was trying to rush the crash victims off the site. Not sure why the other didn't like that. Anyways, they weren't being very cooperative, even after I flashed my badge. Then Cal sighted a real man in black inbound, so I left."
"Good." Saul said, stepping behind Bob and peering out the window at the street below. Indeed, there was the man in black, speaking furtively with the squad captain. He was glad the building's windows were tinted. The police's paranoia was even more apparent from up here; the entire intersection was closed off, and officers were starting to move down the streets, searching nearby buildings.
"We should go." Saul stated. "There's nothing more to learn here."
They packed the equipment and dispersed as usual; Ramses and Saul returned to Ramses' silver Chevy Suburban and drove back to the hotel. Saul would have to play Richard King for the rest of the afternoon at least, to keep the other guests from getting ideas. He'd already spent too much time away from dreaded luxury as it was.
"Have Sam and Terrie get some info on this place's infrastructure." he said in a thoughtful tone as he once again donned his white designer suit. "Sewers, subways, basements... all of it. He probably goes underground whenever things get hot... only real way I can think that he'd still be alive."
"Can't be that many places to hide." Ramses replied, grabbing the fancy ivory cane from where it sat by the wall. Saul palmed the round head of the expensive rod for a few moments with a grimace. It just wasn't the same.
"Just do it." he mumbled. "At the very least we can plot where the best locations for safe-houses might be." With a deep sigh he straightened his suit and adjusted the collar and sleeves. Then with a grunt he forced himself to look happy and satisfied. A cheerful grin stretched across his face and his eyes lit up. He was very good at it; even Ramses could barely discern the facade.
"Four o'clock always seemed a good hour for drinking! It'll be wonderful to finally be rid of this man, however. Make sure everything's ready tonight, Ramses." With that Richard King was off to the resort to entertain his friends for the rest of the day.
- - -
I'm planning on having my next post take place late at night (ingame time). So... I guess I'll have to wait till night happens.
Damien shook his head. "You really suck at lying, don't you?" He hissed. Damien shook his head sadly. "That's gonna kill ya one of these days. How about you leave all the talking to me? I've only had 6 years of practicing." This last part was infused with enormous anger, directed at the Company and every other bigot who would throw a stone at a super merely because of what he was. He started to walk back into the city, leading them to an enormous clock tower. He walked in, nodding to the doorman. " Evenin', Ernie." The doorman tipped his hat towards Damien respectfully. "Good Evening, Mr. Carter. Have you enjoyed your evening?"
Damien smiled at the message. "Thank you, Ernie. My evening was rather...eventful. I'm glad to have a little time to cool down." He walked up the stairs with the other two in tow until they reached the bell tower. Damien relaxed in a wickerwork chair, rocking back and forth gently. He looked towards the heavens for a moment then affixed his eyes on his two companions. "What do you want to know?"
This is a time skip, and definitely not a bump. It is now night-time; Damien, Sam and James have been hanging out for a while at Damien's place, and Saul is now able to do his own dirty work...
Okay, what are the chances of that? Nobody posts for three days, then two people do in ten minutes? Should I just delete this post, or can we pretend I made it before the time-skip? Ah, doesn't matter, it wasn't very good anyway.
"What do you want to know?"
This may be the hardest question Dyme had ever been asked. Here he was, standing in front of Damien Lier, and now he'd asked what he wanted to know? Well, for a start, everything! What was it like being Damien Freakin' Lier, was one thing. What did Goddamn Damien Lier eat for breakfast every day? What did Damien... pause for effect Lier look for in a woman? Dyme needed to answer, and he needed to answer fast, so he just came out with the thing that had been most on his mind since he'd first seen his hero:
"Could you sign my shirt, please?" Dyme asked, tugging his t-shirt down to make it taut.
It is one thing to be on the run alone, travelling fast and tarrying only briefly, but when a group of Supers all show at once, on the same day, in the same town, the Company is bound to take notice.
The man from the rooftop stood outside the clock-tower. The door was locked, but he simply tore the door off it's hinges. The doorman was dispatched with lethal grace, and the man ascended quickly, at last coming to the room of 'Dr Carter'. He smiled briefly; Lier could hardly have made himself easier to find
The kick sent the door across the room, and the suited man strode into the bell tower itself.
Damien smiled as the man walked in the door. "Ah, how good of you to show up. I'm assuming you were the man I glimsped on the rooftop, and I'm guessing that you killed Ernie. A real shame-'He was a good doorkeeper. His barrier power helped with that." Damien shrugged as the door that had flown at him was stopped and crushed into nothingness- all without Damien lifting a finger. "You know you're after the wrong people, correct? I'm probably one of the few remaining supers that won't eat your face off. Watch your step." Damien added with a chuckle as the ground opened up below the man and then closed around him as he fell, pinioning the man's arms to his sides. "Well how do you like my humble abode? I recond I've still got quite a bit of that 300 million to burn Carter was so kind to give me. Though now it's gonna start all over again." Damien shook his head and sighed. He stood up, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it back on. He rolled his neck and waited for the agent. "Fair warning:'attack me And I'll kill you. Just sayin'."
The man's lips moved, baring his teeth, and the edges of his mouth turned upwards, but somehow he wasn't actually smiling. It just didn't quite work. He flexed his whole body, easily moving the ground that surrounded him, then simply... wasn't held.
The floor repelled away from him, spraying splinters, shrapnel and shards of metal across the room at a fair fraction of the speed of sound. At the same time, the gravity field Damien had been projecting failed. He tried to reassert it, but found a force resisting him at every point. To defend himself against the coming shards, he'd have to focus on them individually. Doable, just mindbendingly complex.
Meanwhile, the man dropped through the whole in the floor. A moment later, he burst up again, cannoning into Dyme.
And across the dessert, 1W took flight. His engines were stronger these days; it would take minutes at most till battle was joined. But other forces watched too...
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