The Evolutionist's Stone (RP Reboot)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

==Roswell, New Mexico (December 21, 2012)==

With the first beep of the alarm clock, a hand came down to kill the infernal sound. Professor Maxwell had no need for it; his fear of waking up late had kept him from sleeping at all. A frustrated groan, a hand through his dark brown hair, and he reached for his glasses so he could start his evening off right.

A quick shower would do wonders to wake him up, but not nearly as much as a hot cup of coffee, black. And then, he would be off to the college; the class he met with on Fridays were always a bit more impatient than most, and they would be especially so if he there wasn't enough class time to go over last week's test answers.

Now, if he could just find his wallet--

The phone rang.

"Maxwell speaking."

"Professor Maxwell, I'm glad I caught you." a young male voice replied, "You remember that blip on the radar that we observed last time you visited us?"

The professor paused a second, "You mean, the one that you couldn't be sure was actually anything at all?"

"Yes, sir. That's the one." the young male continued, "I think you might want to let your class out early today. We couldn't be sure it was something before, but now, it certainly looks like it's something."

And that was all the professor needed to hear. A quick call in to the college, and his stand-by would be more than happy to take over his Friday evening class. He was on his way to the institute.

His attention fixed on the huge screen before him, he could barely muster the question forming in his mind.

"Am I looking at...what I think I'm looking at?"

"That's right. A meteor." the lab assistant nodded, "From what we can tell, it keeps blipping on and off the monitor because of the radiation it gives off. The energy it's giving off seems to be similar to kinds encountered on other worlds, but nothing that's ever come this close to Earth."

The professor frowned, "That looks more than just close. It looks like a head-on collision course."

And indeed, it would be. In less than an hour's time, it would collide with the world. The world would be forever changed by the chance encounter.

Yet, as unbelievable as it might sound, the meteor's influence was far less one of meteorology, or geology, or even really to the planet itself at all. True enough, the radiation, as the meteor plummeted through the atmosphere in what would later be called the Australis Event, was not to be taken lightly.

The more immediate effects, though? The more immediate effects, undoubtedly, happened directly to the people. The meteor's energy colliding with the energy of the atmosphere fried the power grids, leading to worldwide blackouts, the likes of which would not be remedied for about three years, and longer in some places. In the meantime, some of particular sensitivity would not fare well with the sudden uptick in radiation that the meteor's impact brought; a few thousand cancer deaths could be linked back to no other life choices or life events besides the meteor's arrival.

Still, the most drastic changes had yet to come. When the meteor arrived, the energy it brought with it had an unprecedented effect on the people. They began developing superhuman abilities; superhuman strength, the ability to see the future, to read minds, to speak with animals, to fly. Yet more amazing, their emergence provoked the emergence of more familiar beings, beings the human race had long thought mythical, imaginary.

These sort, aliens, mages, werebeasts, vampires, zombies, ghosts, had all been present in small pockets, since before anyone had been afforded safe refuge and free time to record information about them. And along with them, demons would even make themselves manifest, though their appearances were thankfully few.

At least, the supernatural sort were few, anyhow. On the other hand, among humans, other monsters would make themselves quite obvious in the times to come. Cults would arise to announce the Doomsday at hand, or to proclaim their opinions on the newly-revealed superhumans, reviling them as unnatural monsters, or hailing them as gods to be loved and feared; anarchists would show their faces to revel in the political chaos, while rioters would surface to complain about the very same; looters would raid the rich and the poor; gangs would metastasize to unthinkable size and power.

Then came the Warlords and the Overlords.

What started off as simple debates about politics and religion, did not take long after The Event to devolve into outright power grabs. Some without power sought power, and those with power sought more power. Overlords staked out as much land, as much social and political influence as their abilities and skills and connections would allow them to claim; they truly thought they had the best ideas for what would make their lands great. On the other hand, Warlords would go to battle for the simple sake of battle; they just loved having enemies to go up against, to prove whatever point needed proving.

And lands were claimed and reclaimed with frightening speed. What might belong to someone one day, might go to his worst enemy in a coup, or his best friend in a coup, the next. By the year 2062, many maps looked very much the same, but the workings within were anything but. Lands were caught between some surreal mix of feudal, futuristic and outright fantastic.

Though, in the midst of this new land of monsters, both human and superhuman, the people still held out hope of heroes. It is unknown who first began the trend, but before long, there arose a rumor: while most of the meteor was consumed on entry during the Event, a single piece was said to remain. Within the fabled Evolutionist's Stone (as it would later come to be called), it was said that enough energy would be left to empower a living being beyond their wildest imagination.

And with that power, an Overlord could hold influence unrivaled by any adversary, but a hero of noble heart and mind could arise to take down the enemies, and with that, set right so many wrongs which had been perpetrated in the world before The Event, and since.

GV: We start off with Wayne meeting in a San Diego bar with Josef Jokov, who has a tip about a job he could pick up in Arizona. You can dictate both parts of the convo, or do Wayne's part, and let me do the other guy. Either way is fine, but let me know, please.
Everyone else: Please don't respond to the story until GV has played out his first post as Wayne. This part is very important.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

==San-Diego, California (December 21, 50 A.A.)== 

==Beach side bar, 11:00 p.m.==

"Hello, my name is Wayne Cobane and I'd like to register a complain. If anyone up there could find the leader of our little cabal and pull his head out of his ass that would be great! It'll take a lot of work though, he must have it wedged pretty far up there not to see what a huge mistake this is."

This angry tirade overcame the salty wind and the relaxing crashes of the ocean waves from the beach, and the pleasant chatter of the few customers in this little faux-straw hut bar stopped momentarily as everyone looked at the man responsible.

He was out of place among the casually dressed 20-somethings regulars. A man in his late 30s, immaculately dressed in the sort of tailored suit you didn't see very often after the Australis Event. He was sitting on the edge of the bar, fuming over an old laptop computer open in front of him. His dark glasses reflected the screen as he spoke into his cell.

Rankings. He'd hardly believed it when Archer had called to tell him, but there it was on he website. They were officially ranked.

"I know you're listening Jack, so I really have to ask, is this a game to you? Do you have any idea the sort of infighting this is going to lead to, especially considering all the psychopaths you hire? And don't give me that "we'll police ourselves" crock of bull. We're assassins, we know how to kill someone without somebody knowing it's us."

The regulars suddenly had somewhere else they desperately needed to be.

"I'm just saying." Wayne continued, paying no heed to the the people who were trying very hard to leave casually. "The first time some upstart little shit with a chip on his shoulder kicks in my door while I'm on the john or something, swinging a sword and looking to up his pay grade, I'm going to find you and beat you until you can't think conscious thoughts anymore. This will cause nothing but problems. Ciao."

Wayne clicked his cellphone off and sighed, placing the old thing back in his pocket and laying his head on his hands. Wayne Cobane, man of means and taste, country traveling assassin extraordinaire, a cog in an origination he didn't care about and working for a man he hated. Wayne eyes widened as he had a realization.

"Good god." he said in shock. "It's the day labor all over again. Barkeep!"

The girl behind the bar jumped, and stopped trying to sneak out the back.

"Strongest thing you've got. Leave the bottle." He said, dejectedly.

She left the bottle. Then she left. Wayne was alone. All he had to do now was wait.

It wasn't long before another man came walking down the beachfront, plopping himself down next to Wayne, who chuckled and slightly slurred. "Well well, hello there Insomniac. To what do I owe the pleasure of being called down to San Diego?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The Insomniac scoffed, as he reached behind the bar to pour himself a drink, "Anybody who knows me, knows I hate San Diego. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be caught dead here. It's the perfect cover."

He lifted the beer mug up from behind the bar, and set it down with a heavy thud.

"So, here's the deal. A friend of mine says Arizona is on the up-and-up right now. Huge construction projects are underway, the quarry business is booming and there's plenty of other physical labor that needs overseeing. That would be where you come in; well, sort of. See, the resident Overlord, a real hard-ass named Gorak, has no problem hiring folks and bossing them around. What he does have issues with, though, is knowing a traitor when he sees one. So, seeing how well he pays his son's security detail, my guess is, he'd much appreciate your expertise in picking out the rats and, uh, exterminating 'em."

"Oi, this place's got rats?"

Wayne and the Insomniac turned to face the Cockney British accent that interrupted them; its source was tall, muscular, with blond hair shaved into a crew cut. Still, big and imposing though he was, his posture was much less like the menace of a bruiser, and much more like the awkward first arrival to a high school party.

"I mean, not that I'd tell nobody." he continued, "I'm really just lookin' t'get a drink wif me mates, when they show up. This place...it is open, right? I saw the girl out back, havin' a smoke, but nobody's in here 'cept you two. So, izzat bar open or what? I'm Ivan, by the way. Ivan Fisk."

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"He can get a mind reader for that, ea-" He says, going for a swig straight from the bottle before stopping, bottle top hovering just above his lips. He puts it down on the bar, hard, before turning to Josef. "My expertise, huh? My traitor expertise? I swear to god if this is about that shit in Chicago-"

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by Ivan's entrance. Wayne side-eyes him, more thrown by the accent than anything. Jesus, a real cockney accent. An real life, honest to god, Brit. He'd always heard that crossing the pond was really dangerous. Any other time he'd have invited him over just to hear his story, but right now he was technically doing business.

"Barkeep's on her break, mate." He said. "Come back in 30 minutes. Or, hell, go join her. She looked like she could use the company."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Ivan's face curled into a small grin, "I been 'er company before, and if the look she gave me on the way in is any clue, I think am quite done bein' 'er company, thanksverymuch."

And with a chuckle, he slipped over into the seat next to Wayne.

Pulling a small pink phone out of his pocket, he began texting, and addressed present company, "So, uh, you guys hear about Arizona? Turns out the ruler--Dammit, how does Tessa work this stupid thing? Oh, there it is--Yeah, I hear the guy down there's lookin' to draw in assassins. Some sort o' false advertisement gig. He draws 'em in with promise o' big money, treats 'em real good for a little while, and then WHAM! They drop dead, from cyanide in their tea, or a death-kissin' stripper. That's just as much 'is business, as that quarry and whatnot he's been workin' on. Helpin' keep assassins away from other rulers, helps him keep those rulers outta his hair, too."

The Insomniac perked up, exchanged glances with Wayne, and turned back to Ivan, "I...but you...where did you hear that? You can't possibly be an assassin. No offense, dude, but a big-ass guy like you, the target would hear clompin' in his direction a mile away. So--still, no offense-- I think I'm gonna have to call bullshit on that."

Ivan shrugged, "Suit yourself. Ain't like I'm an assassin' or nothin'. Ain't my head he's after. Not to mention, really...how likely is it some assassin'd be dumb enough to fall for that kinda trick, anyhow? I mean, that's about as dumb as that bollix they've been spreadin' about Arizona's Overlord bein' on the trail of some 'special stone' what can increase powers. Hehehe...ain't that wild? What kinda dumb-arse d'they take me for?"

GV: "Stone? What stone?" or something to that effect. Wayne is interested with Ivan's off-hand mention of the Stone, and his interest gets Ivan to take the off-hand rumors he's heard more seriously. I like your idea, and so I'm trying to build off of it. Also, hopefully including the traitor-rumor element, as well.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"I'm going to have to second that 'bullshit.'" Wayne says, taking a drink. " He may not look it, but my friend here," he tips the bottle to Josef, "is pretty well connected with most of the black market gossip. Now if you could back this up I..."

Wayne trails off, eyes flicking unseen to Josef, then down to the list of names on his still open laptop. He had a funny feeling. Someone knocking off assassins was trouble for the organization and, though he didn't spare a care for the website as a whole, he hated to admit that a few friends of his were counted among it's numbers. And, if Gorak wanted an assassin, why didn't he just use the website? Why rely on word of mouth when you could scroll down a list and pick the guy you needed?

There was no real harm in checking, just to be safe.

He hovered his hands over the keyboard and really turned to Ivan for the first time. "These morons that fell for this scam Gorak's running? You got any names?"

(First thing is to verify whether Ivan is on the up and up.)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Ivan looks up from his phone. What were the names he'd heard? He had only heard the names off-hand.

And more importantly, what was it to these two?

At the somewhat accusatory question, Ivan reached over the bar for the ginger ale he'd been eying. Pouring himself a drink, he answered as best as he could recall, "Aster So-and-so, if I remember right. Got shot dead in the forehead; survived, but got shot still. Damn lucky the freak could recover brain damage; when the shooter left, he got up and went after 'im. And Kate Shoemaker, Shumacher, somethin'. She got damn-near nicked, too. They mighta got Marcus Stone, dunno, I forget."

He looked back to his friend's pink phone; if the text was to be believed, he could expect his friends to arrive any minute now.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Wayne logged into his account on the Hierarchy website. He had to admit, even if he found the whole thing sort of dumb, the site was well designed. To a perspective client, it was just a long string of codenames. His was Sweeper, and he noted with some small degree of satisfaction that he was listed at Rank 4. Next to the codename was an indicator telling the client if the assassin was available, a simple N/A if they were somehow indisposed. Clicking on on of the names led to a profile telling the client what they could expect from that assassin, but not in any way that reveled exactly what they could do. For example, his mentioned, among other things, stealth expertise, professionalism, and that camera and laser security was no issue. Nothing explicit about his transparency ability. There were no photos, no physical descriptions, no addresses. If a client wanted a specific killer, they went through Jack. If they weren't picky they just sent the target information and sent it to Jack, who would post it on the Killboard. If you weren't a member, this was all you saw.

Wayne was a member, and he could see quite a bit more. Real names, photos, the Killboard itself, and additional statues for everyone. Instead of just N/A, he could see the reason. OA meant "on assignment," and listed next to it was the amount of time they had been and where that assignment was taking place. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the woman right above him, Nalia Isotov, "Charmer", had been "on assignment" for six months in New York. There were other designations. VA meant "Vacation" AKA "I'm not taking work right now for personal reasons." WR "Work Related", meant they were doing something on their own time to benefit the organization. UB, "Unofficial Business," meant they were working on a different job that killing people.  Then there was MIA. Missing In Action, "you haven't checked in in a while and we have no idea what happened." Someone had to be out of contact for two months before being assigned MIA status.

Marcus Stone, when he searched the name, was listed as such. MIA. He tried again with with other two.

Kate Shumacher, "Lucky Love". MIA.
The only Aster in the organization was an Aster Penderghast, "Dragon Tomb." MIA.

Wayne leaned back on his stool, thinking. He decided to hit the forums, another perk member status afforded him. There was a dedicated MIA thread, so he asked there.

Sweeper wrote

Did anybody notice the prior status of three specific MIAs? "Moral" Marcus Stone, "Lucky Love" Kat Shumacher, and "Dragon Tomb" Aster Penderghast?

While he waited for an answer, he absentmindedly decided to check the Rumors forum. He wasn't expecting to find anything, not really, but the first thing Ivan had said looked like it had weight. Maybe that other thing wasn't so full of it. Imagine his surprise when one of the topics on page one was "Something Big going down in Arizona." He hurriedly clicked on that one, leaning closer to the screen.

Vinegar wrote

I'm working deep cover in Vegas as a dealer in Kings personal High Rollers lounge, and something is fishy. Alton King has but really paranoid about Arizona lately. And I'm not talking in the normal Overlord way, I mean really. He's been talking to a few others Overlords about sending Hand down there to crack open the whole state, but they think he's just being crazy or something. Maybe Gorak is doing something for them, I don't know. Thing is though, I've never heard King talk about doing that to even California, at least not preemptively, and that man hates California. He keeps going on about how Gorak is digging up a "Gamechanger," (his words, not mine) and that he's "not playing fair" and a bunch of other game metaphors.

Anybody got any more info on this?

Shigen wrote

i was working in goraks part of arizona a while ago. he's definitely beefed up security down there.

Hindenburg wrote

Some of my old merc buddies have said that they're getting contacted under the table by guys claiming to be Arizonan.

Whitecat wrote

Gorak's found The Stone.

Shigen wrote

bull. stones a myth

Whitecat wrote

Not so! Think about it, what else would make someone who's got the Controller breathing on his neck so worried? Gorak is a Geokinetic, if he found The Stone then Kings ace in the hole is useless against Arizona if Gorak decided to expand, and it sounds to me like he's gearing up to do just that.

Shigen wrote

conspiracy bull. youre full of it. you always are.

The thread spiraled down into a heated debate about the existence of the stone. Still, it was something to think about. He tabbed back over to the MIA thread. He hit paydirt, courtesy of an old friend.

Kurosawa wrote

Last I saw, they were all UB before they went missing. Why, got a lead Wayne?

Sweeper wrote

Maybe. Hold on a second.

Wayne looked up from his laptop at Josef. "Do me a favor and stay right there, would you pal?" he says, amicable in everything but expression. he then turns to Ivan. "Turns out there might be something to all that, even the stone bit. Where do you get your information?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Ivan blinked.

Was this guy serious?

He thought for a moment; the conversation had gone quickly from an off-hand crack about how easy the barmaid was, to something of an interrogation. Just what were these two up to?

"Well, it was a mate I met some time back." Ivan replied, "A teleporter, Torres. Sure, 'e ain't no merc or no killer, but 'e gets around. Runs into folks every now an' again; 'e hears things."

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." Wayne says, nodding. "So, just a drifter? Just heard it from people? That's really interesting. Isn't that interesting, Joe?" He says, slowly standing up and staring dead at Josef. "Because I think that's really interesting. I'd be really interested in knowing how this information made it back to Ivan here, but not a noted rumor monger like yourself."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Josef stood slow, brushing off imaginary dust.

He set down his drink, and gave the blithe reply, "Well, shit, dude; I gotta admit, you are good."

Looking to Ivan, he seemed approving, even impressed. When Ivan turned to stretch, though, the Insomniac's look over Ivan's shoulder toward Wayne was more than worried. He hurried to his friend's side, and put a chummy arm around his neck, but pulling him close, his demeanor was anything but friendly.

"Ho-lee crap. This guy knows way to much to be civilian." he rasped, just above a whisper, "You want to do him here? I swear to Christ, we can put a bullet in his head, right here. The barmaid out back, too. Tell me, dude; what're you feeling?"

He looked back; Ivan slouched on his bar stool, texting who-knows-who.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Yeah, he does know a lot. That's the whole point." Wayne says in a hoarse whisper before throwing back his head and laughing as if he had just been told a really good joke. He returns Josef's gesture, throwing his arm around his neck. Except tighter, his arm pressing right up against Josef's neck. He keeps whispering. "He knows things that, by all rights, I would expect you to know. Isn't that your nickname, 'the man who knows.' And those rumors he shared? Those check out. Those assassins he mentioned really are missing, and Gorak really is close to finding something over there."

"So I have to ask myself, Joe," he says, tightening his arm so that man couldn't get away. "As a prudent professional you understand, is if you walked in here intending to screw me or if you're just an ignorant victim of circumstance acting on a bad tip."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Josef recoils a bit, seeming taken aback, "What? I...I got no reason! You're good people! And so what, this guy knows what he's talking about? He's not me! You know me. I've never screwed you over before; I'm not about to start now."

He looked to Ivan.

A chill ran down his back, but he wouldn't dare let Wayne catch wind of his building nerves. This situation was the worst possible scenario to give off the wrong impression.

His attention turned back to Wayne, "So, you're gonna follow his lead, then? I...I can't really blame you, I guess. Still, beware of Greeks bearing gifts, y'know? I got your back. This guy, you can't be so sure about. If you take him up on his offer, I gotta say, I still want details. Keep me posted. And I'll try to do some more diggin' myself. Maybe even hunt down this Torres guy he sounds so up on."

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"It is only because you've never screwed me before that I'm even asking." Wayne whispers back. "Most anyone else would have been dragged off for a mind probe by this point, just to be on the safe side."

Wayne lets up the pressure, but doesn't let go. "And you can never rule out mind control. But yeah, I'm going to run with this and see what I find. It's too fishy not to. So I think I'll be taking that job in Arizona after all."

Wayne lets go and returns to his seat next to Ivan, falling into it heavily and motioning Josef over. "So, what else did the teleporting man mention about this special rock Gorak trying to dig up?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Torres had only mentioned the thing in passing, but now that Ivan thought about it...

"It sounded a bit whimsical for 'is taste." he replied, "I mean, 'e ain't the sort what just up an' talks about Bigfoot an' conspiracy theories an' the Easter Bunny an' whatnot. The Stone, though--the Evolutionist's Stone, I think 'e called it--'e made it sound just as important as whatever else Gorak was plannin'."

He lifted his drink to his lips slow, as though truly pondering the information he'd received for the first time; after a deep swig of ginger ale, he added, "From what 'e says, the Stone can amplify powers a hundred-fold, way better than any run-o'-the-mill power booster. Said it could even give powers to normals."

He eyed Wayne and Josef's expressions, a feeling growing in his gut that he'd hit something, struck some nerve. In return, though, their attention seemed to have turned. Ivan turned around to see what had caught their attention--

Making his way through the bar door was a tall, lean, athletic figure, his eyes bright and aware, his blond hair streaked white; at his side was a beautiful blonde, looking thoughtful, seeming entertained by the man whose arm she held; following them, a brown haired man, timid, shorter than the blonde man by a couple inches; at the back of their group, stood a moody Latina, turning a wry face at the bar's crude attempt at ambiance.

"Ah, right then." Ivan's expression brightened at the sight, "There's me mates."

The blond man turned to meet the sound of his voice, and his jocular call revealed that he was another Brit, "Oi, Ivan, if you don't give the most shit directions in the history o' mankind!"

"You're such a dick, Petey." Ivan laughed as his friends made their way over; putting his arm around his friend's neck, he turned back to Wayne and Josef, "Oi, these here's me mates, the ones I mentioned. This blond 'aired bigmouth is Pierce Dary. His lovely girlfriend is Tessa Mand. The sexy, mean one over there is Nadia Gonzales. And that there with the brown hair is Toad--eh, Fitz Tanner. And guys, this here's, uh...hm. That's strange, I never did catch either o' your names."

That seems to register with Pierce; in a calm but fluid motion, he relieves himself of Ivan's arm, and backs up a half-step. As much as he might be trying to hide it, he tenses, and his bright expression falls a bit into accusatory suspicion, as though, just that quick, he might be making a pair of enemies...

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"No, you didn't." Says Wayne, before shouting to the backdoor. "Hey, barkeep!"

As she nervously pokes her head in Wayne takes out his wallet and lays a fat wad of bills on the table. "For the distress, and for these guys." he say, nodding his head toward Ivan's party. "That should cover anything they want tonight."

He gets up, closing his laptop and tucking it under one arm, before nodding toward Josef. As they make their way onto the street Wayne absently waves without turning around. "Treat 'em well." he yells casually. "That big guy saved my life tonight."

Then they vanish around the corner, mingling with the other people out for a good time tonight. When Wayne is sure they aren't being followed, he looks at Josef. "If you get anything about this scam Gorak's running, that Torres guy, or even this special rock, you know how to contact me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see a man about a job."

They separated there, and Wayne made his way to his car. Before pulling out and making his way to Arizona he took a moment to change his status. BR. Business Related.

Jack could never say he'd never done anything for this organization.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

==Phoenix, Arizona==

==Gorak & Son Quarry, 11:30pm==

The young boy stood at the bottom of the quarry in which he hoped to work; an upward look, and images of the Roman Coliseum rushed to mind (especially with some of the workers gathering around to watch). A cool breeze passed the young boy, but he knew that wasn't what had sent that chill down his spine.

The man who stood before him was massive. And he was getting more than just a little impatient.

"Take your stance, kid." came the man's gruff command, "I ain't gonna ask twice."

A shallow breath escaped the boy, and with some effort, his stance was not as shaky as he expected. Still, to the man, it seemed more entertaining than intimidating.

"Okay, then." he smirked, "If that's the best defense you can muster."

With that, the man slid into a crude cowboy quickdraw stance, and swept his right foot forward in an arc, sending a ten-foot wave of rock in the boy's direction. The boy would have responded, if not for the sudden outcry of hooting, cheering quarry workers in the rocky tiers above him.

His distraction would cost him.

He would take the full brunt of the rock and dirt aimed at him, and the recovery from being knocked on his back would be a shaky one. Still, his own subconscious defenses had lessened the impact; it could have been much worse. That in mind, it was time to take this confrontation much more seriously. Stumbling back to his feet, he improvised something of a better stance, and waved a hand forth, sending his own rocky attack back at his opponent.

The man held firm.

As the pillar drew nearer and nearer, he held firm still. And when, at last, it was within range, he leaned forward with barely an effort, taking it into both his hands. It resisted him no more than an instant, before stopping dead in its tracks.

The man wrenched his hands upward, and the pillar grew to twice, three times its original size. The boy's expression fell into further dismay, and the man's smirk grew a tad wider.

"Don't look so shocked, kid; we had a deal." the man chuckled, "No job until you land a blow. Whack-a-Gorak; every geo that works here knows the game. And goin' easy ain't my style."

With that, he sent the pillar gliding back across the quarry floor, like the fin of some giant earthen shark.

"Oh, shi--"

The boy was able to dodge the pillar’s first time around, but even at twenty-five feet away, the pillar remained under Gorak’s command, doubling around now at greater speed. Hurling back little bolts of rock and dirt did nothing to even slow the fast-advancing pillar down, and the boy’s evasion tactic was embarrassing. At first, his speed was enough, but soon, he had to dodge over equipment, around machines, past entertained workers…at last, there was no more room to run. He hadn’t expected it so quick, but the boy had been run into a corner. At one side, a stack of metal sheets blocked his way; at the other side, there sat a bulldozer, the one that had been set aside for the mechanic to have a look at.

The pillar slid nearer, backing the boy up more and more, and following his movements to whichever side he dodged. No more running. His back touched the wall.

“You sure you want this job, kid?” from behind the pillar, Gorak’s voice rang out, “Cause, to me, it looks like you’re scared of rocks. And we can’t have you hesitatin’ and runnin’ away when the shit hits the fan. So, what’s it gonna be? Tick tock, kid, I ain’t got all day.”

The boy’s only response was vacant silence, which would only be broken by an annoyed groan from Gorak. His patience had reached its limit. Slowly shaking his head in disgust, he raised his hand, speeding the pillar forward for the KO, and turned to head back to his office.

WHUM.

Gorak stopped in his tracks, turned on a dime and called over to one of his assistants, "See that he gets to the hospital--"

A loud crunch came from behind the rock, and Gorak was silent, observing. He wasn't sure if he had seen it the first time, but the second movement was far more sure. The pillar shook, trembled for a moment, and then more rock rose up to join it, turning the pillar into a wall.

Intrigue grew in Gorak's expression; finally, this kid was starting to respond. Gorak slid into his quick-draw stance again. Though, this time, he would not be met with the boy's wimpy attempt at an intimidating stance; instead, the wall would do the talking for him. And what it had to say would be quick, and to the point. An assistant standing closest to the wall noticed it first; the wall seemed to be growing little bumps on it; uneven in size and shape, some sharp, some blunt, but little rocky bumps nonetheless.

By the time anyone thought to question what they were, their purpose was made known. They weren't bumps; they were bullets. They fired out of the wall in a hateful barrage, the likes of which none of them had seen before, from anywhere but a machine gun. Spewing out at an unreal rate, the kid's rocky wall seemed to regenerate a whole new stock of ammunition before the last round ran out. In a continuous spray, the rocky projectiles hit nearly everything in their wake, the walls, the equipment, and whatever other thing had the misfortune of getting in their way.

With the way the wicked little rock pellets were sent flying, occasionally ricocheting off of rigs and other heavy machinery, even the workers in the upper tiers took cover, for fear of the kid's newfound weapon.

The boy could hear the ground grumble from behind his wall defense, and at last came the bellowing outcry, "ALL RIGHT, KID! STOP ALREADY!"

And stop it did. A moment's hesitation, and the kid lowered his wall, just in time to notice that Gorak had erected one of his own. Gorak's lowered, and the large man looked over at two of the assistants who had gone hiding from the boy's rocky onslaught.

As he picked rocky shrapnel from his own skin--which, to his fortune, had been toughened by his ability--Gorak remarked, a sort of new respect coloring his voice, "You, uh...damn, kid. I said touch me, not take me out. D'you know that if I didn't have this tough skin, you'd be under arrest right now for assassinating a Head of State?"

The boy stepped forward, running a hand through his hair, and replied, "I...I just sort of reacted. I knew I wasn't putting you in any real danger, though. I did my research."

Gorak blinked, and stopped picking out the projectiles which had been lodged in his tough flesh. His expression widened into a grin again, then a chuckle, at last an outright laugh, deep from his gut. As his assistants came out slow and cautious from their hiding places, all pretense had gone from Gorak's face and his posture. He could barely believe it.

"Research! Hahaha! Now there's a word we don't hear a whole hell of a lot, down here!" Gorak held his aching side, and wiped a tear from his eye, as he tried to regain composure, "Hehehe...say, kid, I like you. You're a smart one; we could always use a smart one around a place like this. You're a bit shaky, and it sorta takes a bit to draw the fight out o' you, but when you come around, you really do come around. You said your name was, uh, Shye Natanel, right? I could show you a thing or two, if you still want the job. So, uh...whaddya say, kid?"

Shye looked down at his feet for a second, and then looked back up, with a sly smile growing, "I...I would like that a lot, sir."

[Ericus Europaeus (Bug)]

CONTENTS DELETED

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[Philote]

Nadia takes a seat at the bar one over from the rest of the party, an agitated look already growing on her face. She makes the point of pulling out part of her sum of cash and laying it on the bar before the man made his way of the bar.

"I'll be buying my own set of drinks" she says icily to the barkeep.

She would not be letting some stranger put her in there debt and the act was to make sure that was clear to all. Waiting a moment and downing her first drink, she rotates in her chair and looks over at Ivan at his table.

"So, do you want to tell us what your friend's deal is? They where eying us ever since we walked in this bar."

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Behind the group, a thin and pale, young man slipped quietly into one of the open seats nearby. He sat hunched over the table, staring at the worn surface and tracing small patterns idly into it with his index finger. He sighed quietly to himself before taking a timid glance at the rest of the group before resting his gaze on Nadia and Ivan at the bar. Nadia was being her usual forward self. She wasted no time in giving Ivan the third-degree.

 "So, do you want to tell us what your friend's deal is? They where eying us ever since we walked in this bar."

Fitz risks a quick interjection.

"T-they looked really dangerous....and that one guy dressed pretty nice," he mumbled, just loud enough for everyone to hear as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.