04 Return

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Ice
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04 Return

Post by Ice »

Thank god for fall, the cold breeze offered by the night is a glorious reprieve from the heat of summer. The air smelled fresh, the pollen dying down and giving way to that air that truly gives a full breath with a harsh undertone of the promise of frost soon to come. She loved this air, the beginning of comfortable nights. The colder the better; Ice was a home with the cold. While so many pitiful people huddled within the smoke-filled warmth of the bar she was seated alone outside on the patio. The silence of the fall night was broken only by the bar's mediocre live band of the night and the occasional yell of a group of men or women. Idiots.

Her one-piece black leather riding suit was unzipped to her waist. The arms of the suit were hanging through the holes in the back of the dark wooden chair she chose to reside for as long as her cold beer would last. Ice's almost waist length light blue hair was blowing in the wind slowly. She rolled her wrist around slowly holding only the neck of the bottle; Ice could feel the slushy-like liquid move lazily against the dark glass container. The slush was her doing; there was no bar that could quite understand the delicacy that was nearly frozen beer. But then again, they weren't lucky enough to have acquired a below freezing body temperature. The embodiment of winter rolled her snow blue eyes at her sarcasm and took a moment to suck down some of her beer.

Heavy and uneven lumbering footfalls sounded hollowly on the wooden deck coming toward her sanctuary. Closer and closer this man came, it could have only been a man. And only a man would layer on too much colonel thinking models would flock toward him like crazed dogs.
"Hey, no one as beautiful as you should be out here all alone," slurred the Neanderthal.

"And no one as smelly as you should be legally allowed to make a bad attempt at a come on," Ice retorted her voice as cold as her name.
Obviously not taking the hit, the drunk man came lumbering closer. Ice took one slow breath and felt the beginning of a dew gathering on the wooden planks below the man's feet. With her second careful breath, the temperature began to drop one degree at a time a little to quickly to be normal. The man's breath came from him in small clouds. His next step found the deck a solid, slippery sheet of ice. Too much weight on an unbalanced, drunk man landed him solidly on his butt.

Ice couldn't help herself but start to laugh when he tried to get back up and simply fell again. She stood slowly looking down at the dirty man putting her arms into her riding jacket hiding the tight blue tank top. She zipped it up as she walked away leaving the man to crawl toward the door for fear of falling again. Ice's 5-inch heeled boots clicked on the floor as she made her way outside to her Suzuki. Swinging a graceful leg over, balancing the big between her legs she started the engine and threw stones as she left the bar. Delighting in the cool fall air running its fingers through her hair. Screw a helmet; if the cops could catch her she would take a ticket out of pure respect. Enjoying that brisk air with the promise of colder nights to come the drunk man was forgotten.
Last edited by Archivist on September 20th, 2015, 7:37 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Double Fire
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Re: Return

Post by Double Fire »

Mandy kept with the steady jog of the treadmill. Her ponytail swung behind her. It was early yet, only a few people moved about campus. And Mandy enjoyed the respite of solitude in the cardio room. When Torque joined her, taking the neighboring treadmill, she looked at her partner’s reflection in the window. In minutes they were at peace with each other. It felt so normal, so ordinary, jogging in place with a friend at the break of dawn. It was peaceful for a while. Then others began to trickle in for their own morning ritual exercises.

When the lights shifted to daytime illuminating the area Mandy knew she was done. Stepping off the machine, she grabbed her towel and water bottle from the floor. In heading to the locker room, she removed the ear-buds of her MP3 player.

“Hey, Double Fire, wait up.”

She paused and turned to see Torque follow. “I’m still trying to get used to that one.”

“It’s not every day we get a new code name.”

“This is true,” Mandy resumed her course to the locker room with Torque. “Right now I need a shower, coffee, and breakfast in that order.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.” Torque opened the door marked ‘women only’ and they stepped inside. “Blaze tells me she called in her old mentor to help you.”

“Yeah, his name’s Pyroclastic,” Mandy called to her from over the lockers. “He sounds like a real blast.”

“Well, you’re in good hands. He trained her so I don’t think you need to worry.”

Stripping off her workout clothes Mandy wrapped a towel around her body and picked up her shower basket. “It’s not the training I’m worried about.” Stepping around the lockers she passed Torque for the showers. “It’s the college algebra that’ll get me.”

“Who’s your instructor?”

Choosing a stall, she pulled the curtain closed. “I don’t know yet, registration is today. I’m thinking of putting it off for easier courses; just until I get settled.”

“Great, in that case, I recommend Intro to Sociology. Professor Renshaw is a personal favorite of mine. It’s easy to learn from him.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Mandy turned her face into the steaming water.



OOC ~ classic Psionics- no plot, no plan, no problem (no vamps or dragons either ;))
Amanda Lynn Matchall
aka Mandy
security class: PSI- 4
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Avalon
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Re: Return

Post by Avalon »

The building even looked far away through the glass lenses of the digitally enhanced binoculars pressed lightly to Avalon’s green eyes. Avalon observed people moving about with books and other important learning materials grasped in hands or hidden away in backpacks, messenger bags, and what looked like huge purses. The knowledge of what this place was amazed her; a school made specifically for people just like her. A special school for special people; as the thought ran through her head she couldn’t hold back the chuckle as the idea of short yellow school buses arriving at the upscale building one after the other. The sun was burning bright against the drying leaves of fall as they changed colors from a bright green to delicate hues of brown, yellow, and red.

Avalon sat back from the window of the remote home she had ‘borrowed’ from the old lady now tied up and stuffed into the coat closet downstairs. Placing the expensive binoculars down on the table beside her she picked up the envelope her current employer had provided on the mission. Flipping through it slowly looking at the profiles of each of the hits, smiling faces from surveillance photos and confidential information probably obtained from an experienced hacker.

Avalon fixed her blonde ponytail and pushed the file to the table, and began watching quietly.
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Ice
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Re: Return

Post by Ice »

OOC - Ice w Double Fire - JP

The bumbling man from the bar had left Ice with a bad taste in her mouth. According to her old friend's letter, the Consortium wasn't far, and it had been too long since she had last seen her. An extremely rare sense of nostalgia filled her cold heart. The engine of her brand new Suzuki revved as Ice laid rubber in order to make the sharp curve in the road that just seemed to appear out of nowhere; according to the directions on her GPS, the Consortium shouldn't be far. The campus that appeared before her blocking the light of the rising sun shocked her, Mandy had never said it was a full on college. People were not on her top to do list, but she had promised Mandy a visit while she was in the area. And, Ice was hoping to make it more than just a quick visit. Allowing her engine to play its music as loud as it wished she simply pulled up to what seemed to be the main building and revved her engine one last glorious time. A mischievous smile crossed those dead blue lips as she walked up to the glass doors. Removing her gloves she ran her cold fingers across the surface frost gathering over it as though winter as already set in. There she leaned beside the doors, wondering how best to locate her friend.

Mandy was in a rush. After the workout with Torque and a good steam shower, she wanted breakfast. And she wanted to be in her usual booth before the rush of teens filled the cafeteria. As she moved across the campus she was preoccupied with the load of paperwork and books she carried; it wasn’t easy trying to walk and shove supplies into a small duffle bag. She almost had everything in when she was caught in a wave of teenagers running toward the main building. Her bag was pulled from her shoulder; her Sociology book flopped out of her hand to hit the ground. Stopping, she looked at the sky and closed her eyes with a huff. “This is not going to be a bad day. It will turn around.”

Ice heard a huge commotion coming her way and turned to see what the noise was. Her eyes widened at the eight mini grownups coming toward her quickly. Quickly was not something her anti-social personality could handle. Without a second thought all that worried her, was slowing down the oncoming rampage quickly. Reaching out the morning dew lying on the ground unnoticed by the normal population she let the temperature drop as quickly as her abilities would allow. A lovely skating rink appeared under their young, unprepared feet. It was like dominos after the first fell grabbing for stability on the other as they went down. Even Ice couldn't hold back the laughter of the scene.

Arms flailed, kids slipped, flopped, stumbled, and landed on the iced cement. Trying to get up and gain composure was even more comical. They grabbed and pulled each other’s clothing; caused each other to slip and stumble back down again. Mandy watched them behind her amber vision Blu-blocker sunglasses. She just smiled and shook her head. There were only a few people she knew capable of such an act so early in the fall. She shouldered her bag again as she passed them. She just had to comment. “If only Triton could see you.” She noticed the bike and her friend. “Slick, I love it.” She laughed. “C’mon, I’m starved, how about you?”

"Only if it's ala mode." Ice followed her friend into the building, her eyes taking in everything. Ice had never been to a place like this before. The place looked like what a great mix of a well-lived-in home and a business lobby would remind her of. She reached down and grabbed the arms of her riding suit and tied them around her waist, tucking the extra in which just drew more attention to her near perfect old-fashioned hourglass form. "So, what have you been doing?" Ice followed her friend, letting the cold of her core temperature to follow her like a winter breeze. Keeping the conversation on Mandy's life was her goal. The fewer questions Mandy asked about Ice's questionable lifestyle the better.

“I’m just trying to put the pieces back together,” Mandy replied grabbing two trays and two sets of silverware for them as they stepped in line. Behind the glass, station covers a heavy set woman stood waiting for them to make their selections. Mandy nodded toward the sign advertising the featured breakfast of the day: scrambled eggs with cheese, a side of hash browns, with toast, and orange juice. She glanced at Ice with a snicker in remembrance. “The coffee station is out by the tables. It’s a serve yourself.”

Ice pulled on her riding gloves, left the tray and made her way toward the coffee; she prayed for at the very least iced coffee. Weaving through the young people that were there was a workout. A few of them took notice of a sudden change in temperature as she went by. There are very few times that Ice tried to hide that she was different anymore that must just come with age. Finally, reaching the coffee kiosk without freezing anyone alive; Ice thankfully found a slushy machine full of frozen mocha. Filling the largest cup she could find to the brim, pressing a clear plastic lid on top, and finally a long straw with a spoon on the end. Ice turned, searching the very crowded room for Mandy. Cold blue eyes spotted her only friend sitting in a booth and made a beeline for her. Ice sat down in the booth crossing her legs right over left. "So, taking classes huh?"

“Just a few, I’m working on my associate’s degree.” Mandy sprinkled some pepper on her cheesy eggs and poked through them with her fork to mix it in. She smiled with a nod towards Torque as the woman took a seat with a few others at a nearby table. She turned her attention back to Ice. “What about you? It’s been a while since we last e-mailed. What’ve you been up too?” She reached over the table and pulled some napkins from the dispenser.

Ice tried to keep it as bland an answer as possible without flat out lying to her friend. Ice had needed to make some quick money in order to pay for her storage place that held all of her belongings for another year. The new motorcycle really set her back as well. "Traveling mainly: Europe, Germany, and France mostly. But, actually, thinking about trying to find a real place now." Ice looked at Mandy's eggs, missing the feeling of a hot breakfast. If she had tried them now that she was psionic it would only gift her with third-degree burns instead of an ambrosial tingling of her taste buds.

Mandy put her fork down, wiped a napkin over her lips, and sat back. Casual conversation was something she wasn’t used to. It seemed so normal, so mundane to just sit for breakfast and talk with someone. There were no alerts sounding, no plans to hash out; it was just a good old-fashioned conversation. Even the sky was kind enough to cover the sun with clouds. Of course, the protective film over the glass window helped a lot. “You know that you can stay with me. We’ve done it before and that was a single room at Garston.” She took a sip from her orange juice. The oddity of such a mundane, civilian conversation was not lost on her. “Now, I have a two bedroom over in the condo building. As long as you don’t have a problem with my cat Russia, we should be fine.”

Ice looked down at her hands; this is the way she was leading the conversation in the first place. But, having done it now, Ice couldn't help but feel guilty and nervous; there were a lot more people here than she had originally anticipated. "Will they be okay with you doing that? I mean, they aren't going to make me play the student, are they? I can always find something else..." Mandy was the only person Ice ever felt comfortable talking to so openly.

“They’ll be fine with it.” Mandy gave her the ‘All American Girl’ smile she was known for. It was so friendly, unassuming, and non-judgmental. It’s what disarmed people with her. “I don’t need to check my guests in with management. Besides, I’m sure Torque remembers you from… You know…” Her voice faded at the memories of loss. With a deep breath and a huff, she forced a smile. “Anyway, we can talk in more detail back at my place. I have two classes today.” She dug through her bag and pulled out a set of keys. Removing one of the small security devices she slid it across the table. “I’m on the third floor, number three twenty-seven. I haven’t figured out what to do with the second room so it’s empty. Just don’t let Russia get out while you’re moving in. I’ll be home around three.”

Standing Ice sent her warmest possible smile toward her friend leaving her frozen coffee behind. At this point, the caffeine wouldn’t help her at all. All she had with her now was her Suzuki and a small bag. Ice went outside into the cool fall air to retrieve her back from the small storage compartment hidden beneath the seat of the motorcycle. So, the search began for room three twenty-seven. It had taken far too long and far too many necessary interactions with people to find it. The hunt had exhausted Ice beyond comprehension. Ice used the card key on the door, the lock clicked, and door thankfully swung open. The very first thing she took notice too was the couch, the welcoming, comfortable looking couch. Swinging the door shut behind her, Ice stepped inside. She sat on the couch pulled off her boots and wiggled out of the riding suit; the black jeans that had been hidden beneath had to be skin tight to hide beneath the suit comfortably. She lay back on the couch seeing an array of images above her. Mandy always was quirky; Ice rolled over to lie on her stomach and save her eyes the onslaught of visual stimulation and fell into a peaceful sleep.
The bi*** is back!
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Avalon
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Re: Return

Post by Avalon »

Avalon stared the binoculars practically glued to her face. Shock, it was…Laurell. Dropping the binoculars to the floor she grabbed the small pile of folders and looked through them all. Laurell’s face was in none of them; if that was the case, then what the heck was she doing there! This could change so much, how could Avalon be able to silently slip onto the campus unnoticed now. With Laurell acting as an unknown variable in her plan Avalon may have to change things a bit.

Standing from the flimsy chair, ignoring the old woman’s feeble attempts at banging down the closet door downstairs Avalon began to pace across the creaky wood floor. Avalon caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the bad seventies floral wallpaper; she stood, staring at herself for a long moment. It had been years since they had seen on another, that bitch. Avalon figured her personal revenge would just be an added reward for the job.

A few more days of watching the one the file called Double Fire would be a good way to start. And, if in fact one of her marks was friends with Laurell the two birds and one stone saying could really prove to be true. Avalon would run through possible plans tomorrow, but for now. Avalon picked up a heavy black pack, pulled out her baby; a Sig Sauer .45 mm 1911 pistol with competition sites. The stainless steel of the pistol in her hand gave her comfort; sitting back down calmly making a notation on Double Fire’s file.

Same booth every day for breakfast possible affiliation with Laurell aka Ice
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Cleric
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Re: Return

Post by Cleric »

Jon sat in the heart of an empty warehouse, as he smoked a cigarette. A table sat next to him, with an ashtray, two empty cans of root beer and his leather long-coat folded neatly next to them. He sighed a mist of smoke, as he looked at his watch.

“What's with these lads? You'd think they'd put it together by now.”

As if on cue, a door being kicked in echoed through the warehouse, as a group of armed men in nice suits came running around the crates and surrounded him. Eventually, a fat man in a white suit appeared and made his way to the front.

“Thought you could hide from us?”, asked the fat man. “No one comes into my territory, kills my lieutenants and gets away with it.”

Jon took one last drag, before stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Hidin'? Sorry lad, but I was just waitin' for ya ta' drag yer sorry butt outta yer mansion; away from yer family.”

“What? What does my family have to do with this?”

Jon stood, as he answered, “I can't very well kill ya', with a bunch of kids runnin' around.”

The fat man laughed. “Kill me? Now that's funny. Kill him.”

The men opened fire on Jon. His body jerked this way and that, as the bullets hit their target. After what seemed like an eternity, Jon fell to the ground and the last shot echoed in the air.

“Try killing me now,” said the fat man, as he turned his back.

A light chuckle filled the room. The fat man assumed it was one of his men until he saw the look on their faces; making the turn to see what had them so interested.

Jon was standing up, as he continued chuckling. His shirt was torn to pieces, but he showed no sign of gaping bullet holes; only small welts where he'd been hit. Only now did they notice the scattering of flattened bullets around him.

Jon reached behind him and retrieved his .45 handguns. “If ya say so,” he said, as he began firing at them. It didn't take long to take down the mob of men; many of whom had emptied their guns when they shot him. After a mere couple seconds, only the fat man remained.

Jon smirked, as the fat man turned to run. Jon stepped forward as planted his foot in the ground, shifting the stored kinetic energy to launch himself into the air and landing in front of the fat man; who fell onto his rear, from the surprise.

“Who are you? Who the hell sent you!?”

Jon aimed his gun at the fat man's head. “Don't worry. You'll meet him before he sends ya straight ta' hell.”

The shot rang echoed throughout the silent warehouse, as the fat man fell on his back; a new hole in his forehead.

Jon rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, as he retrieved his coat before exiting the warehouse.
Once outside, he looked up at the bright sun and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from inside his coat.

“Another great day ta' be alive,” he said, before lighting up another cigarette.

Just then, his phone rang. He quickly grabbed it from his coat and answered, “y'ello?”

“How you doin', boy?” a raspy old voice asked.

“'Ello, Red. I'm doin' good. Just finished a job here in Boston.”

“That's fortunate. I got news about the Consortium for you.”

“What would you be doin' with that kind of info?”

“I'm a retired Fed; not an octogenarian wasting his life away with sudoku and shuffleboard.”

“Take it easy, old timer. What do ya have for me?”

“There's some buzz that there's something about to go down at that Campus.”

Jon paused for a moment. “And just what be goin' down?”

“Don't know, but given the kind of people who'd take interest in a place like that...”

“Aye, might be somethin' bad.. Thanks for the heads up. Keep diggin' for me, n' lemme know what ya find. I'll talk ta' ya later.”

Jon hung up and quickened his pace to the back of the warehouse; where he stashed his '77 Camaro. He grabbed a fresh whole shirt from the back seat, before jumping in and making his way to the campus. It had been years, since his last visit. Hopefully, this visit would simply end in some catching up – if anyone he knew was still there – and see how far it's come along.
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Pyroclastic
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Re: Return

Post by Pyroclastic »

Inside the old Victorian house, Jonathon Steen sat in the burgundy leather chair facing the large wooden desk. He rubbed his hand to his chin as he contemplated the profile in his lap. In his left hand, he held a head-shot image of Double Fire. As he read the information he nodded, pursed his lips. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it. “She’s young,” He closed the file and looked up to Joe Pierce seated behind the desk. “Why did she leave Garston?”

“Personal loss, her mentor died in action.” Joe sat forward and pushed another file across his desk. “We’re lucky to have her.”

Jonathon took up the second file and skimmed over the cover page inside. He raised a brow and took back to Joe. “Sally’s daughter,” He set his attention back to the file. “I should have been here.”

“Don’t go there.” Joe cautioned. “You were doing your job. What happened was unexpected.”

“I should see Sally,” He closed the file and stacked it on his lap with the first one. “Where can I find Amanda?”

“At this hour,” Joe looked at his watch. “She’ll be at the sports complex; probably the batting cage."

“All right, I’m in.” He stood and reached out to shake Joe’s hand. “Let’s hope she’s not as much of a pain in the ass as the last one.”

“And as the father of that pain in the ass, I’m grateful.” Joe laughed as they stepped from the office.

At the front door, Jonathon slipped on his blazer and then his sunglasses. “You’ll have my first report in a week.”

He moved down the steps of the house and across the lawn to the drive. There he got behind the wheel of the beige ’66 Mustang convertible. He placed the files into a briefcase that rested the passenger seat and then drove off.

At the sports complex, he parked near the baseball field. There was a class game in progress at the first field. He found Mandy at the batting cages. She wore the blue on white baseball shirt for the Consortium Kinetics. The number 7, her number, made him smile. He took it as a good sign.

She was practicing her swing with a robotic pitcher. As he watched her he could see the haze that surrounded her. And he knew what it meant. Jonathon had seen it before with other pyrokinetics. The heat of their energy radiated like an aura.

Mandy missed three balls before he spoke up. “Your swing is too low.”

She looked over her should to him. “Excuse you?”

He mimed swinging a bat. “You’re too low.” He stepped into the cage and approached her. “Take your stance and let me show you.”

She took her position as the robot loaded another ball.

“You’re lean in is just slightly too much. Trust me with this?” With a hand on her shoulder, he urged her to straighten back and adjust her position. “Now try it.” He stepped back.

The robot released the ball. Mandy swung and whacked the ball. The buzzer sounded when the ball hit the back wall. She nodded with a smile. “Nice, thank you,” She stepped back from the plate, tucked the bat under her arm, and then pulled off her batting gloves. “You must be Pyroclastic.”

“That I am- is now a bad time or should we schedule something?”

“No, we’re good,” She stuffed her gear into a duffle bag, removed a set of keys and then slung the bag over her shoulder. “My car’s over here.”

At the white Jeep Wrangler, she dropped her opened the passenger door, dropped her bag into the back. She retrieved two bottles of water from the cooler and then locked the door. And then they just walked.

“I’ve read some of your file.” He accepted one of the bottles. “I think I can help you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She took a seat on a picnic table. “Blaze speaks highly of you.”

He sat on the table next to her resting his forearms on his thighs with his fingers laced together. He watched the activity before them. People move about, teenagers played, some studied, and others were clustered together just talking. “I want to be upfront with you. Sally and I are old friends. I just found out about Sharon today.”

“Did you know her too?”

He noticed the change in her tone. She sounded quiet, soft-toned, mournful. He understood the feelings. “In her early years yes but not as well as I would have liked.” He set his eyes on the group of teens lounging under a grand oak tree. He could see the energies wafting around them. “Sally was changed by what happened to her. Giving Sharon up wasn't an easy choice. Watching her grow up from a distance was just as difficult.”

“You still love her.”

Her words took him by surprise and made him smile. “Yeah I do- we're going to get along just fine.”
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Ice
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Re: Return

Post by Ice »

Ice’s heart was pounding against her chest; her breathing was rapid as the scene played out before her sleeping mind’s eye. The flames in Mandy’s apartment were flowing like a river over any surface it could consume. Ice was curled up, trapped in a corner her body a mass of blisters. She could almost feel her skin melting from her body. Every time Ice tried to force the temperature down enough to shield herself from the flames as she normally would; the fire would melt them into steam that would, in turn, cause more burns on her nearly dead body already. Just as Ice could feel her body dying, being burned alive she jerked awake.

Blue eyes darted around Mandy’s living room taking in all the furniture Ice would have never picked, but, beggars can’t be choosers. Ice moved slightly; sitting up on the couch feeling and hearing the crunching of a thin layer of ice over the couch cushions. Her face scrunched up in worry, what would Mandy say. Not much Ice could do to fix it but to let it melt and dry.

Ice stood and found her small bag and walked to the door that seemed to lead to the bathroom. She went through the careful motions of showering under the coldest setting in the shower, brushing her teeth, and getting dressed. Walking out of the bathroom wearing a pair of extremely short and very worn out jean cut off shorts with a faded obviously old black Harley Davidson t-shirt towel in hand rubbing it against her hair in an attempt to dry it before it froze. Frozen hair meant brittle hair, and brittle hair had the horrible possibility to break off; it took too long to grow her hair out this long to lose it now.

Walking over to the table where she had put her cellular phone down and set to silent; Ice picked the slim black object up and unlocked the screen with a quick slide of her finger across the touchscreen. Her thumb moved quickly over the screen finding her email, quickly sending a note to Mandy.

“Where are you?” She typed, “Need a tour guide.”

Looking at Mandy’s cat and quickly back to her phone Ice started sending all necessary emails to have her things in storage boxed up and sent fed ex to the apartment she would share for now with her friend. Maybe Ice could be of use here, without having to steal to live. That was no life anymore, even if it was fun; something new was in the works she could feel it. Or, maybe that was just the heat from the cat rubbing on her bare leg leaving her pale skin looking red as it walked away. She really had to work on a way to protect herself. Hopefully, all of those answers could be found here.
The bi*** is back!
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Re: Return

Post by Cleric »

As Jon rounded the corner, he spied the campus in the distance. It looked the same as he remembered; but he also remembered how big the grounds were, so who knew what new building Pierce had put up after all this time.

He made another turn to head for Pierce's when he noticed the man in question walking down the sidewalk. Jon parked the car and stepped out to greet him.

“Out for a little stroll, are we?” Jon asked as he walked up to him.

“Well this is a surprise,” said Joe, as he held out an open hand.

Jon gladly shook it, as he said, “How've things been for ya at the Consortium?”

“Busy,” Joe chuckled, as he raised a questioning eyebrow. “And how's business?”

Jon shook his head but kept a crooked smile. “I know ya don't really approve of the whole killin' for the money thing, but a man has to make a livin'. Besides, ain't like before. The people I take care of have it comin'; I make damn sure of that.”

“Just be careful, Jon,” said Joe, as he continued his walk and motioned Jon to join him. “Your questionable work aside, I don't want to have anyone coming to me asking questions about a former Consortium member hiring himself out as an assassin.”

“Hitman,” Jon clarified. “Assassin's sleep on rooftops for days n' can split yer wig from miles away.”

“Tomato, Tamato.”

“Aye, whatever ya say. Look, I'm here 'cause word is there may be trouble brewin', here at the campus.”

Joe paused in his tracks. “What kind of trouble?”

“That's what I asked; not a clue. Just chatter a pal o' mine tossed my way. Could be somethin', could be nothin'. Just thought ya should know.”

“I appreciate that, Jon. I'll be sure to let the staff know; no need to unsettle the students, just yet.”

“Understandable. Speakin' of which, how goes the whole teachin' gig?”

Joe couldn't help but smile. “I let the professors and trainers take most of the brunt, but I try to make myself available when I can.”

“Would drive me insane,” Jon sighed, “Glad I didn't have ta' go through all that rigmarole; never was good with the whole academic thing.”

“Couldn't have hurt.”

“You can just go n' kiss my ass.”

Both men had a hearty laugh, before Joe asked, “So, where are you staying?”

“Now, what makes ya think I'm stayin'?”

“Because I know you,” answered Joe, as he continued walking.

“Yer a real pain in the ass,” said Jon, as he rejoined him. “Passed a little B n' B on the way. Thinkin' of rentin' a spot there for a while.”

“There's no need for that, Jon. I'm sure we can find you a place here.”

“Err, I dunno,” Jon seemed uncomfortable. “Sure it won't be a little odd, havin a fella like me around yer kids?”

“Trust me, some of these kids have witnessed things that would leave most men a crying mess. A gun-toting Robin Hood of Hitmen doesn't even compare.”

“Aye, I guess not,” Jon looked at the campus. He knew Psionics had to grow up faster than normal kids; otherwise, they'd end up dead. “Fine, ya' twisted my arm.”

“Good,” Joe gave him a single pat on the shoulder. “Come on, let's see where we can put you.”

“Just nowhere near yer kids. I don't feel like bein' woke up in the wee hours of the mornin' by whatever they listen to nowadays.”

“Careful. You're showing your age.”

“Look who's talkin'.”

They continued on their way, as they went on making bad puns and pseudo-insults at the other's expense. All the while – behind smiling faces – both men were worried about what potential danger could be headed their way.
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Vortex
Psionics Millennium
Posts: 3
Joined: April 3rd, 2009, 10:01 am
Location: East Coast

Re: Return

Post by Vortex »

On the second floor of the main building, Eddie ‘Vortex’ Phosphor sat on the corner of the desk. With his arms folded across his chest, he stared out the window watching the trees sway in the early autumn wind. He thought back to the morning romp with his fiancée Shalimar ‘Blaze’ Pierce.

There was innocence in the moment with a playful pillow fight. Her giggle lightened his heart. And that smile of hers could make him forget the issues he dealt with every day. Just being with her, knowing she wanted to be with him, made life so much easier.

A knock on his desk and Torque stepping in front of him, waving her hand, brought him from thought. He blinked and looked at her.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Just daydreaming- what’s going on?” He moved to resume packing a box of books.

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

“Are you kidding me?” He almost laughed. And then he sighed with a wag of his head. “I wish I could express how bad I feel about Clash. He was a good agent. And we haven’t taken the time to talk about what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” She picked up several small books and placed them in the box.

“Yes, sure, you gave him the assignment. That was your job. What happened though- that’s on the ISR. Karma may be taking her time but she’s making a list of their crimes.”

“You are incredible,” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t deserve you as a sister.”

She giggled and smiled. “Too bad, you’re stuck with me.”

He returned to packing the personal effects of his office. “So, how are you doing?”

“No complaints,” She leaned against the desk and folded her arms and crossed one ankle over the other. “I’m taking a trip to Nevada to see Tech. I was thinking that I could hand deliver his invitation.”

“That’s a great idea; do you want to take a shortcut?”

“Not this time.” She shook her head. “Brenda is flying out there for a new visor, so I’ll hitch a ride on the jet with her.”

“That sounds good,” He nodded. “Give Dr. Baylen my regards.”

“Will do,” She hugged him with a pat on his back. “And you’ll do fine as Magistrate, just control the daydreaming.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“That’s what sisters are for.” She winked at him. “I have to go, Eric’s holding the plane.”

“Have a safe trip.”

“I’ll call when we land.”

“Right, okay,” He sealed a box and started on another.

Torque chuckled and closed the door on her way out.

OOC: another unassuming individual- it 'seems' like their guard's down.
Agent: Eddie Phosphor
Magistrate
Security Class: Alpha 1
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There are no extraordinary men... just extraordinary circumstances that ordinary men are forced to deal with. -Adml. William Halsey
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