Pally pulled herself from the dumpster. How was she to know there was an Aberrant in those Lost, who was four Threat Levels higher on the scale than her paltry Security Level Fifteen? Her head ached, but she remembered hearing them speak in spanish as they left, saying that she was nuts for thinking they were selling 'Dyne. Maybe it was just her, but it was almost like they thought it was a joke. Well, just because you're in a gang doesn't mean you're selling 'Dyne, so they had her there.
The Trolls didn't help much either. Yeah, they sold 'Dyne, but mainly a particular type, and usually amongst themselves and for their new recruits. She smirked to herself as she considered Barrier. She and Barrier weren't so different, except B was more Trollish, and Pally more normal looking. Both seemed to sport the powers attributed to 'Dyne, but if Barrier was as heavy of a user as her skin said, she shouldn't even be a she anymore! Maybe she could ask Barrier about it, sometime. Maybe.
Shaking her jacket off, Palilla made her way back to the school. She had been rude to Mis, and needed to apologize for it. He did, afterall come and try to make up with her. She could hear the joke there, but, Mis was seriously not her type. There weren't many who she would even start to consider, amongst the male population. Heck! The girls were just the same, really. And to think she was labled a lesbian! Ha!
The big question was still there? Who was selling this crap, and where? And, were there any students of St Joe's who were buying it? Stopping just inside the front gates, Pally laughed out loud, and loudly. Those were stupid questions, if you asked them in the right order. Why not find out who first, then the rest?
D.A.R.E.
Moderator: Student Council
-
Misericorde
- Posts: 1921
- Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2006 9:31 pm
- Location: Saint Joseph's School
- Contact:
Monday, August Seventh.
He sat impassively in the SERAPH waiting room, as stone-faced as the statues of fallen heroes that decorated these halls. Any person that knew him would be disturbed by this uncharacteristic stoicism.
Anyone who knew Michael Corde could not place a time when he was not in motion.
Would that his mind were as passive as his body today. There was a tension in his chest, as though he had suddenly been flung into frigid water. His tongue felt thick and alien in his mouth.
The vaguely soothing cinnamon smell of City Hall, the deep pile carpeting of the place could not ease the sense of...dread...that had settled over him. Michael hoped they could analyze the sample he had located in time, and confirm his suspicions. He had caught it in time, hadn't he? Of course he had surely there was still plenty of time to prepare. So why this anxiety?
Michael spent several minutes playing with the unstable molecular structure of his costume. Mask clenched in his hands, he flexed the retractors of his claws, causing them to extend slightly through the suit, then retracting into his arm. It was soothing, to watch the suit close over itself, heal itself each time the claws passed through.
Just like he did.
"Special Ag...?" the research assistant called, then paused, as he looked at her sharply. "Oh, sorry. I mean, Misericorde." He stood slowly, mask still clutched in his hand. "We have the results of the analysis of the canister you located."
Misericorde nodded. "And?" She smiled reasurringly, and placed a hand on his elbow, as she read from the notes of her analysis.
"The aerosol mutagen you find was fascinating, really, it was set to alter the baseline human genome. A marvel of genetic engineering and bio-warfare. This was not a standard Outbreak mutagen! This virus had an actual "timer" of sorts built into it! It would not alter the code of the host until noon today. Thank goodness that isn't for another ten minutes, so we were able to isolate it from the..."
The papers were torn from her hands by an unexpected gale, her pristinely starched lab coat and blonde hair whipping about her body and face. In the halls, several people cried out as the files and notes they carried were strewn about the hallway, some still fluttering and twisting in the air in circles.
Misericorde was gone.
Several researchers, and Doctor St. John-Smythe hurried into the room, in various states of undress from their bio-warfare suits. One of them carried a Crey Cryo Pistol. "What happened," Smythe asked, breathing heavily. His hair was a mess.
The researcher threw her hands up in disgust, and tried to fix her hair, clothes and papers simultaneously. "What the hell? I told him he had caught the mutagen in time. He brought the sample in, and it wasn't set to trigger for another nine minutes, now. Kids should not be given Hero Cards! They are all so impatie.."
Smythe held a hand up, cutting her off, hurrying over to the intercom. "Get me Vanguard and Longbow now, and secure the War Walls for Sector Eleven. Tell them to use Outbreak protocols. Nothing and no-one gets out."
He leaned heavily against the desk. They were out of time. "Doctor Hopkins, the canister of Outbreak Misericorde found was discovered on the grounds of Saint Joseph's School," he explained.
"It was leaking."
He sat impassively in the SERAPH waiting room, as stone-faced as the statues of fallen heroes that decorated these halls. Any person that knew him would be disturbed by this uncharacteristic stoicism.
Anyone who knew Michael Corde could not place a time when he was not in motion.
Would that his mind were as passive as his body today. There was a tension in his chest, as though he had suddenly been flung into frigid water. His tongue felt thick and alien in his mouth.
The vaguely soothing cinnamon smell of City Hall, the deep pile carpeting of the place could not ease the sense of...dread...that had settled over him. Michael hoped they could analyze the sample he had located in time, and confirm his suspicions. He had caught it in time, hadn't he? Of course he had surely there was still plenty of time to prepare. So why this anxiety?
Michael spent several minutes playing with the unstable molecular structure of his costume. Mask clenched in his hands, he flexed the retractors of his claws, causing them to extend slightly through the suit, then retracting into his arm. It was soothing, to watch the suit close over itself, heal itself each time the claws passed through.
Just like he did.
"Special Ag...?" the research assistant called, then paused, as he looked at her sharply. "Oh, sorry. I mean, Misericorde." He stood slowly, mask still clutched in his hand. "We have the results of the analysis of the canister you located."
Misericorde nodded. "And?" She smiled reasurringly, and placed a hand on his elbow, as she read from the notes of her analysis.
"The aerosol mutagen you find was fascinating, really, it was set to alter the baseline human genome. A marvel of genetic engineering and bio-warfare. This was not a standard Outbreak mutagen! This virus had an actual "timer" of sorts built into it! It would not alter the code of the host until noon today. Thank goodness that isn't for another ten minutes, so we were able to isolate it from the..."
The papers were torn from her hands by an unexpected gale, her pristinely starched lab coat and blonde hair whipping about her body and face. In the halls, several people cried out as the files and notes they carried were strewn about the hallway, some still fluttering and twisting in the air in circles.
Misericorde was gone.
Several researchers, and Doctor St. John-Smythe hurried into the room, in various states of undress from their bio-warfare suits. One of them carried a Crey Cryo Pistol. "What happened," Smythe asked, breathing heavily. His hair was a mess.
The researcher threw her hands up in disgust, and tried to fix her hair, clothes and papers simultaneously. "What the hell? I told him he had caught the mutagen in time. He brought the sample in, and it wasn't set to trigger for another nine minutes, now. Kids should not be given Hero Cards! They are all so impatie.."
Smythe held a hand up, cutting her off, hurrying over to the intercom. "Get me Vanguard and Longbow now, and secure the War Walls for Sector Eleven. Tell them to use Outbreak protocols. Nothing and no-one gets out."
He leaned heavily against the desk. They were out of time. "Doctor Hopkins, the canister of Outbreak Misericorde found was discovered on the grounds of Saint Joseph's School," he explained.
"It was leaking."
Origin: 1200–50; ME misericorde lit., pity, mercy, an act of clemency
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
Eshva stood over the sink in the girl’s washroom rubbing her hands together under the warm running water. Pausing a moment she looked at her self in the mirror. Instead of the brown orbs she was use to a pair of red eyes looked back at her. A small sigh escaped her lips. Great I look more like a demon now Sarcasm played about in her head. Lets give it a try..Eshva looked closer into the mirror as she thought of something to make her angry. Sure enough her red eyes slowly phased into an unnatural yellow.
A sound rang out as the door opened. Eshva using the mirror laid eyes on a new student she’d never seen before. The girl stood about Eshva’s height, her face was shaped by beautiful red curly hair, and freckles brought out her brilliant green eyes. In one hand she held an rosary in her hand along with a few books in her arm. The girl paused at the door clearly taken by Eshva’s appearance. The girl cautiously walked up to the sink next to her and put her books down. Eshva smiled warmly.
“Hi! I’m Eshva Dybbuk! I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Are you new?”
The girl smiled at the warmth in Eshva’s voice.
“I’m Sally Martin, I just transferred here. It’s a wonderful pleasure to make your acquaintance”
Extending a hand in friendship, Eshva held it out for Sally to accept. Just as Sally grabbed her hand, Eshva suddenly became uneasy. Did her eyes just change color? The Green eyes she had seen now appeared a bright yellow. The Sally pulled her hand back in fear.
“You’re not a demon are you!? I should have thought to ask that first!”
Eshva became tight lipped. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Sally had been so warm and cheery what happened? Sally’s eyes darted up and down studying Eshva, not taking her eyes off her she reached for her books and started feeling for something.
“I’m not a demon.. I won’t hurt you. Do your eyes change like that normally?”
Eshva took a step towards her. Sally backed into a corner still clutching her books her fingers finally warped around her rosary and grasped on it.
“Are you sure you’re not a Demon? You really look like one with those red eyes.. and those horns.. Are you really, really sure? …. No my eyes don’t change color. I’m just a normal girl, just a normal girl. You better not have done anything to me! My dad will here of it!”
Sally’s voice grew angry. She turned and glanced in the mirror. Her books slipped from her arms as her face grew pale with fright as she brought the rosary up and holding the cross she muttered a prayer. Turning her face towards Eshva and her face contorted with hate.
“What did you do to me?! You are a demon! Look!! Look at what you did!”
Sally pointed to her eyes and continued to scream at Eshva.
“I’m a freak now! My boyfriend back home will hate me! Did you possess me? What did you do! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
Eshva clenched a fist and her jaw tightened. Again, again I’m being judged by my appearance.. Eshva felt the anger grow.
“I didn’t do anything to you. I’m not a demon.”
Sally’s eyes went wide.
“You’re eyes! They just changed yellow too! You’re lying!!”
Sally slammed her fist down on the counter top. To Eshva’s surprise the entire thing detached from the wall and water sprayed from the sink closest to them. The water sprinkled on to both of them. It didn’t phase Sally but Eshva gawked at the counter top in utter disbelief. Sally threw a punch at the distracted girl sending her soaring into one of the bathroom stalls. Eshva felt the back of the toilet jab right into her spine. Oo that shoulda hurt…thank god for the lack of pain receptors.. Eshva placed her hand on the seat to attempt to get back up to find Sally on her again slamming the cross into her minds eye and putting Eshva’s head threw the wall.
“Go back to the hell you came from!”
Sally’s eyes wildly madden when she pulled the cross back to see the wound instantly heal. Oh wow.. Normal… I really don’t believe that now.. but .. I need to get out of here! Shaking her head Eshva let her claws out and a growl. Sally screamed and let go of Eshva backing up quickly. Now! Getting to her feet Eshva took off out the bathroom doors. Sally kicked down the door in hot pursuit looking madly around for a hint of were the demon had run off to.
A sound rang out as the door opened. Eshva using the mirror laid eyes on a new student she’d never seen before. The girl stood about Eshva’s height, her face was shaped by beautiful red curly hair, and freckles brought out her brilliant green eyes. In one hand she held an rosary in her hand along with a few books in her arm. The girl paused at the door clearly taken by Eshva’s appearance. The girl cautiously walked up to the sink next to her and put her books down. Eshva smiled warmly.
“Hi! I’m Eshva Dybbuk! I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Are you new?”
The girl smiled at the warmth in Eshva’s voice.
“I’m Sally Martin, I just transferred here. It’s a wonderful pleasure to make your acquaintance”
Extending a hand in friendship, Eshva held it out for Sally to accept. Just as Sally grabbed her hand, Eshva suddenly became uneasy. Did her eyes just change color? The Green eyes she had seen now appeared a bright yellow. The Sally pulled her hand back in fear.
“You’re not a demon are you!? I should have thought to ask that first!”
Eshva became tight lipped. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Sally had been so warm and cheery what happened? Sally’s eyes darted up and down studying Eshva, not taking her eyes off her she reached for her books and started feeling for something.
“I’m not a demon.. I won’t hurt you. Do your eyes change like that normally?”
Eshva took a step towards her. Sally backed into a corner still clutching her books her fingers finally warped around her rosary and grasped on it.
“Are you sure you’re not a Demon? You really look like one with those red eyes.. and those horns.. Are you really, really sure? …. No my eyes don’t change color. I’m just a normal girl, just a normal girl. You better not have done anything to me! My dad will here of it!”
Sally’s voice grew angry. She turned and glanced in the mirror. Her books slipped from her arms as her face grew pale with fright as she brought the rosary up and holding the cross she muttered a prayer. Turning her face towards Eshva and her face contorted with hate.
“What did you do to me?! You are a demon! Look!! Look at what you did!”
Sally pointed to her eyes and continued to scream at Eshva.
“I’m a freak now! My boyfriend back home will hate me! Did you possess me? What did you do! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
Eshva clenched a fist and her jaw tightened. Again, again I’m being judged by my appearance.. Eshva felt the anger grow.
“I didn’t do anything to you. I’m not a demon.”
Sally’s eyes went wide.
“You’re eyes! They just changed yellow too! You’re lying!!”
Sally slammed her fist down on the counter top. To Eshva’s surprise the entire thing detached from the wall and water sprayed from the sink closest to them. The water sprinkled on to both of them. It didn’t phase Sally but Eshva gawked at the counter top in utter disbelief. Sally threw a punch at the distracted girl sending her soaring into one of the bathroom stalls. Eshva felt the back of the toilet jab right into her spine. Oo that shoulda hurt…thank god for the lack of pain receptors.. Eshva placed her hand on the seat to attempt to get back up to find Sally on her again slamming the cross into her minds eye and putting Eshva’s head threw the wall.
“Go back to the hell you came from!”
Sally’s eyes wildly madden when she pulled the cross back to see the wound instantly heal. Oh wow.. Normal… I really don’t believe that now.. but .. I need to get out of here! Shaking her head Eshva let her claws out and a growl. Sally screamed and let go of Eshva backing up quickly. Now! Getting to her feet Eshva took off out the bathroom doors. Sally kicked down the door in hot pursuit looking madly around for a hint of were the demon had run off to.
Eshva 
Dearest Heavenly Father;
I know your awfully busy right now,
But all I ask is for one small thing now,
Please Heavenly Father,
Please take care of my friends at this time.
Dearest Heavenly Father;
I know your awfully busy right now,
But all I ask is for one small thing now,
Please Heavenly Father,
Please take care of my friends at this time.
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Eric Copper
- Posts: 569
- Joined: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:49 pm
- Location: Back in Paragon. Yay!!!!!!!
- Contact:
As usual, lunchtime seats in the cafeteria were in sparse supply, so Eric and Glacial found themselves sitting with a few students they were only vaguely acquainted with, Geoff and Tammy. Glacial had whispered to Eric before sitting down that he thought they were a couple, too. That had turned out to be a mistake, as Eric's first words after taking his seat was, "So you two are dating, too?" The two other students had looked startled and quickly denied that they were, but neither seemed upset about it. Glacial shot Eric a look that bordered on dangerous.
Glacial, Geoff, and Tammy had all opted for the cheeseburgers; they were usually safe enough. Eric had grabbed two corndogs and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Before eating, he split open the cornbread covering on the corndogs and scooped the peanut butter and jelly out of the sandwiches and into the corndogs. Tammy looked a bit disgusted by it, but Glacial only chuckled. Eric grinned widely as he began chowing down on his peanut butter and jelly corndogs.
Geoff started up a conversation with Glacial about the football team. Geoff was thinking about trying out for it next semester and was hoping for some pointers. The conversation was going well until Glacial mentioned that Geoff would probably want to start working out to slim down a bit.
"Are you trying to say I'm fat?"
Eric looked up warily at the boy. His tone was very sharp, which was a strong contrast to his previously pleasant demeanor. Geoff was scowling at Glacial. Eric frowned in confusion; he was pretty sure Geoff didn't normally have glowing yellow eyes.
"No, no, that's not what I was saying at all. You'll just be able to move faster on the field if you don't have extra weight slowing you down." Glacial was clearly surprised at Geoff's outburst and was trying to tone the situation down.
Geoff suddenly stood up, knocking his chair over. "Are you looking for a fight? I'll give you a fight, you fricking snowman!"
Tammy's burger fell out of her hands and onto her plate as she looked at Geoff in complete shock. Apparently this wasn't something she was used to either.
"No, that's not what I'm looking for... hey, Geoff, are you okay? Your eyes are looking kind of funny." Glacial remained seated and looked fairly calm. Geoff's mutant powers gave him the ability to manipulate and shape glass, and Glacial was pretty sure that wasn't going to pose a threat if things escalated.
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes!" Geoff swung a fist, slamming solidly into Glacial's jaw. Glacial wasn't phased much by it, he had worse on the football field on a regular basis, but Geoff's hand made a sickening crunch.
Seeing Glacial get slugged snapped Eric out of his shock. He quickly stood up, also knocking over his seat, and pulled, draining Geoff of his energy. Unfortunately, Geoff seemed to have a lot more energy than he should have. Eric's actions only served to anger him further. "You're not locking me down, twerp!"
Each carton of milk at the table froze and burst as Glacial stood up and shifted into full ice form. He grabbed Geoff's shirt and placed him roughly on the ground, then put a foot carefully on his chest. "Geoff, calm down. Tammy, get a teacher."
Eric kept a bit of distance as Geoff struggled against Glacial's foot. He didn't know what was going on, but he hoped Geoff would be okay.
Glacial, Geoff, and Tammy had all opted for the cheeseburgers; they were usually safe enough. Eric had grabbed two corndogs and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Before eating, he split open the cornbread covering on the corndogs and scooped the peanut butter and jelly out of the sandwiches and into the corndogs. Tammy looked a bit disgusted by it, but Glacial only chuckled. Eric grinned widely as he began chowing down on his peanut butter and jelly corndogs.
Geoff started up a conversation with Glacial about the football team. Geoff was thinking about trying out for it next semester and was hoping for some pointers. The conversation was going well until Glacial mentioned that Geoff would probably want to start working out to slim down a bit.
"Are you trying to say I'm fat?"
Eric looked up warily at the boy. His tone was very sharp, which was a strong contrast to his previously pleasant demeanor. Geoff was scowling at Glacial. Eric frowned in confusion; he was pretty sure Geoff didn't normally have glowing yellow eyes.
"No, no, that's not what I was saying at all. You'll just be able to move faster on the field if you don't have extra weight slowing you down." Glacial was clearly surprised at Geoff's outburst and was trying to tone the situation down.
Geoff suddenly stood up, knocking his chair over. "Are you looking for a fight? I'll give you a fight, you fricking snowman!"
Tammy's burger fell out of her hands and onto her plate as she looked at Geoff in complete shock. Apparently this wasn't something she was used to either.
"No, that's not what I'm looking for... hey, Geoff, are you okay? Your eyes are looking kind of funny." Glacial remained seated and looked fairly calm. Geoff's mutant powers gave him the ability to manipulate and shape glass, and Glacial was pretty sure that wasn't going to pose a threat if things escalated.
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes!" Geoff swung a fist, slamming solidly into Glacial's jaw. Glacial wasn't phased much by it, he had worse on the football field on a regular basis, but Geoff's hand made a sickening crunch.
Seeing Glacial get slugged snapped Eric out of his shock. He quickly stood up, also knocking over his seat, and pulled, draining Geoff of his energy. Unfortunately, Geoff seemed to have a lot more energy than he should have. Eric's actions only served to anger him further. "You're not locking me down, twerp!"
Each carton of milk at the table froze and burst as Glacial stood up and shifted into full ice form. He grabbed Geoff's shirt and placed him roughly on the ground, then put a foot carefully on his chest. "Geoff, calm down. Tammy, get a teacher."
Eric kept a bit of distance as Geoff struggled against Glacial's foot. He didn't know what was going on, but he hoped Geoff would be okay.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
Timothy was still getting used to Saint Joseph's campus. He'd been enrolled for a week, but since he hadn't moved into the dorms until today, he'd not bothered to explore very much yet. Some ditzy freshman had told him that the cafeteria was in this hallway but he'd yet to find it, much to his stomach's dismay. Seeing another student coming through the hall at him, he figured he'd try again.
"Hey, you! Where's the cafeteria at around here? Some dumb blonde sent me on a wild goose chase."
The other student, a short guy who also happened to be a blonde, stopped and glared at him with glowing yellow eyes. "What the hell's wrong with blondes? You got a problem, buddy?"
"Yes, I do. Nobody around here's competent enough to answer a simple question correctly. Are you going to tell me where the cafeteria is or not?" Timothy didn't have the patience for another stupid freshman's ineptitude.
Timothy suddenly found himself dodging the student's fists. "You watch your mouth, prick! I've had enough of you older students acting like you're better than us!"
Shocked, Timothy generated a bright flash of light, leaving the boy temporarily blinded and disoriented. He didn't know what his problem was, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out. Picking another hallway at random, he hurried off to search some more.
"Hey, you! Where's the cafeteria at around here? Some dumb blonde sent me on a wild goose chase."
The other student, a short guy who also happened to be a blonde, stopped and glared at him with glowing yellow eyes. "What the hell's wrong with blondes? You got a problem, buddy?"
"Yes, I do. Nobody around here's competent enough to answer a simple question correctly. Are you going to tell me where the cafeteria is or not?" Timothy didn't have the patience for another stupid freshman's ineptitude.
Timothy suddenly found himself dodging the student's fists. "You watch your mouth, prick! I've had enough of you older students acting like you're better than us!"
Shocked, Timothy generated a bright flash of light, leaving the boy temporarily blinded and disoriented. He didn't know what his problem was, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out. Picking another hallway at random, he hurried off to search some more.
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Renn Haven
- Posts: 188
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 5:23 pm
- Contact:
The equipment storage room was dim and cool, a great improvement over the sweltering heat outside. Renn had come down after her morning classes, hoping to dig up some way to get some solo practice in before the baseball team practice that afternoon. Sure, Pally had told her that she was a good batter, but she still hit the ball across the foul line more often than not. Kind of pathetic really.
After a few minutes, she managed to locate the cupboard full of baseball supplies. She grabbed a bat, then went to look for the faculty member in charge of the place. Maybe there was some sort of batting cage; the school certainly seemed decently well funded...
She heard a muttering of in one corner; a young man squatted in front of a cluttered pile of equipment that had yet to be signed back in and put away, mumbling numbers and other things that she couldn't quite make out. Renn recognized him as one of the juniors who helped out with the equipment, but she couldn't remember his name.
"Um...excuse me? Are-are you in charge of checking out equip-" she stopped, startled, as the boy turned to face her, eyes glowing an eerie yellow.
"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded. Renn stepped backwards, trying to sputter out a response, but he cut her off. "You're trying to steal that! Well, I'm not going to let you. I'll get in trouble if something gets stolen. Give it back. NOW!"
Renn felt her back hit the wall, and was shocked to realize that the boy had been backing her into a corner as he harangued her.
"I just wanted to borrow it," she managed to squeak out weakly. The boy yanked the bat out of her hands, and pushed her back into the wall. Renn looked around frantically for a way out, but she was trapped.
"Liar! You were gonna steal it. I'm gonna teach you a lesson, you rich little brat." He brandished the bat at her menacingly.
"Get away from me! GET AWAY!" Renn shrieked, as blindingly white power errupted around her hands, pushing the boy halfway across the room and into a stand of football padding. She didn't stop to take in her close call...she turned and ran as fast as she was capable of, barely noticing the students that the nearly ran into as she ran towards the infirmary.
Doc Sylvia. She had to tell Doc Sylvia. She'd know what to do...
After a few minutes, she managed to locate the cupboard full of baseball supplies. She grabbed a bat, then went to look for the faculty member in charge of the place. Maybe there was some sort of batting cage; the school certainly seemed decently well funded...
She heard a muttering of in one corner; a young man squatted in front of a cluttered pile of equipment that had yet to be signed back in and put away, mumbling numbers and other things that she couldn't quite make out. Renn recognized him as one of the juniors who helped out with the equipment, but she couldn't remember his name.
"Um...excuse me? Are-are you in charge of checking out equip-" she stopped, startled, as the boy turned to face her, eyes glowing an eerie yellow.
"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded. Renn stepped backwards, trying to sputter out a response, but he cut her off. "You're trying to steal that! Well, I'm not going to let you. I'll get in trouble if something gets stolen. Give it back. NOW!"
Renn felt her back hit the wall, and was shocked to realize that the boy had been backing her into a corner as he harangued her.
"I just wanted to borrow it," she managed to squeak out weakly. The boy yanked the bat out of her hands, and pushed her back into the wall. Renn looked around frantically for a way out, but she was trapped.
"Liar! You were gonna steal it. I'm gonna teach you a lesson, you rich little brat." He brandished the bat at her menacingly.
"Get away from me! GET AWAY!" Renn shrieked, as blindingly white power errupted around her hands, pushing the boy halfway across the room and into a stand of football padding. She didn't stop to take in her close call...she turned and ran as fast as she was capable of, barely noticing the students that the nearly ran into as she ran towards the infirmary.
Doc Sylvia. She had to tell Doc Sylvia. She'd know what to do...
Last edited by Renn Haven on Mon Aug 07, 2006 4:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Valerie Atwood, school counselor and psychic, smiles patiently at Jane, known to travel under the code name of Girlactic. Around the school, she was known as one of the "weird ones." You know the kind; the ones who always sat alone at lunch.
"Ok, Jane, let's try another one. Think of something that's bothering you, and we'll see what we can come up with!" Jane sat back in her plastic-backed primary colored chair, and tried, really tried not to allow the hostility of the day through.
Ms. Atwood's pen went to work as they talked briefly about the day. Although her "Automatic writing" trick was a wonder to behold, sometimes it was a little too vague for Jane's tastes. Her life was chaotic enough as it was. Even her physical form was in flux, shapechanger that she was.
Being a Kheldian was rough, she decided. Being a Kheldian with a spotty memory was even rougher.
Valerie held up her drawing, after a stifled laugh. It was a simple sketch; an angry looking caricature of a lobster in a plaid skirt, wearing a large white bib. "EAT ME," the bib read.
"So," Val giggled. "You don't feel like talking today? Well, that's alright."
Jane eyed the floor self-conciously, and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, it's just that..." She was interrupted by a loud verbal exchange from the hall outside Ms. Atwood's (Val, she said call her Val) office. Angry voices, male and female, and getting louder...closer.
Val stood, frowning, and headed for the door, though she stopped, pausing in the doorway. "Stay here, OK? It will only be a minute." Jane nodded mutely, and leaned forward, relieved to have some time alone. She eyed the counselor's drawing pad. After a moment, she checked to ensure the coast was clear, then spun the pad around to peruse it.
The voices were raised in the hallway; someone was yelling.
The Counselor had begun to draw again as the first yells issued from outside the hall. Jane wasn't even sure that Val had realized she had drawn anything. She peered at the drawing, and the color drained from her face.
Valerie Atwood had drawn a picture of two boys in uniforms vaguely reminiscent of those worn by sudents of SJS. Their faces were twisted with rage and anger, their posture almost bestial. Behind them, in the drawing, loomed the face of a Rikti.
She raced out into the hall in time to see two of the boys menacing Val. The school counselor had been knocked to the floor, and had a nasty "goose-egg" on her forehead. One of the boys had a pipe, and their eyes...my god, their eyes.
Just like the kids in Outbreak. The ones who had hit her with sticks, when she was...confused and lost, before SJS and everything that came after. Jane felt the old familiar anger at the injustice of the world flood her, and she pointed an accusing finger at the pair, as the boy raised his weapon above his head.
"Place the weapon at your feet. You are under arrest, pursuant to the Might for Right Act! You have the right to..."
Jane ducked the pipe as it sailed over her head, clattering and spinning along the hall, coming to rest at the base of the lockers.
The hallway exploded in white hot light as she became...something Else. The change was never painful, only mildly disorienting, as her human body transmuted into an armored body the size of a VW beetle. Three steps and she closed the distance separating her from her foes; the heavy footfalls of her superdense"White Dwarf" body rattling the glass in the windows of the doors in the hallway. Enormous three-fingered chitin hands the size of easy chairs grasped the two boys, pinning their arms to their sides, as they were lifted, cursing and struggling from the ground. Girlactic gave them a squeeze, to let them know she was serious.
"You have the right to remain silent; you have the right to..."
"Let me go, you alien bitch!" one of the boys cried savagely, he struggled ineffectively in her grasp.
"...eat me. Now let me finish! You have the right to an attorney..."
"Ok, Jane, let's try another one. Think of something that's bothering you, and we'll see what we can come up with!" Jane sat back in her plastic-backed primary colored chair, and tried, really tried not to allow the hostility of the day through.
Ms. Atwood's pen went to work as they talked briefly about the day. Although her "Automatic writing" trick was a wonder to behold, sometimes it was a little too vague for Jane's tastes. Her life was chaotic enough as it was. Even her physical form was in flux, shapechanger that she was.
Being a Kheldian was rough, she decided. Being a Kheldian with a spotty memory was even rougher.
Valerie held up her drawing, after a stifled laugh. It was a simple sketch; an angry looking caricature of a lobster in a plaid skirt, wearing a large white bib. "EAT ME," the bib read.
"So," Val giggled. "You don't feel like talking today? Well, that's alright."
Jane eyed the floor self-conciously, and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, it's just that..." She was interrupted by a loud verbal exchange from the hall outside Ms. Atwood's (Val, she said call her Val) office. Angry voices, male and female, and getting louder...closer.
Val stood, frowning, and headed for the door, though she stopped, pausing in the doorway. "Stay here, OK? It will only be a minute." Jane nodded mutely, and leaned forward, relieved to have some time alone. She eyed the counselor's drawing pad. After a moment, she checked to ensure the coast was clear, then spun the pad around to peruse it.
The voices were raised in the hallway; someone was yelling.
The Counselor had begun to draw again as the first yells issued from outside the hall. Jane wasn't even sure that Val had realized she had drawn anything. She peered at the drawing, and the color drained from her face.
Valerie Atwood had drawn a picture of two boys in uniforms vaguely reminiscent of those worn by sudents of SJS. Their faces were twisted with rage and anger, their posture almost bestial. Behind them, in the drawing, loomed the face of a Rikti.
She raced out into the hall in time to see two of the boys menacing Val. The school counselor had been knocked to the floor, and had a nasty "goose-egg" on her forehead. One of the boys had a pipe, and their eyes...my god, their eyes.
Just like the kids in Outbreak. The ones who had hit her with sticks, when she was...confused and lost, before SJS and everything that came after. Jane felt the old familiar anger at the injustice of the world flood her, and she pointed an accusing finger at the pair, as the boy raised his weapon above his head.
"Place the weapon at your feet. You are under arrest, pursuant to the Might for Right Act! You have the right to..."
Jane ducked the pipe as it sailed over her head, clattering and spinning along the hall, coming to rest at the base of the lockers.
The hallway exploded in white hot light as she became...something Else. The change was never painful, only mildly disorienting, as her human body transmuted into an armored body the size of a VW beetle. Three steps and she closed the distance separating her from her foes; the heavy footfalls of her superdense"White Dwarf" body rattling the glass in the windows of the doors in the hallway. Enormous three-fingered chitin hands the size of easy chairs grasped the two boys, pinning their arms to their sides, as they were lifted, cursing and struggling from the ground. Girlactic gave them a squeeze, to let them know she was serious.
"You have the right to remain silent; you have the right to..."
"Let me go, you alien bitch!" one of the boys cried savagely, he struggled ineffectively in her grasp.
"...eat me. Now let me finish! You have the right to an attorney..."
Last edited by Girlactic on Mon Aug 07, 2006 8:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)"
-Walt Whitman
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)"
-Walt Whitman
-
Jayden Mathews
Jayden was having a grand time exploring the hallways of the school. Feeling more comfortable then he did the night before about his surroundings and even speaking to people he didn't know. Eshva had taught him how to get in touch with her if he needed anything so he felt a lot more secure.
Jayden wandered aimlessly till he found the library. Looking astounded, Jayden rushed to the shelves looking for new things to read. Jayden in his whole life had never seen so many books. His Father had been an Evangelist as long as he could remember, and he had allowed Jayden to read the bible so he could understand his sins. Since then Jayden was addicted and read everything he could find.
Flipping his fingers through the books Jayden see's a glint of yellow deep behind the shelf. Reaching for it out of curiosity, the yellow glint disappeared and in its place were large hands that were no reaching for Jayden. Letting out a sharp "Eep!" Jayden stumbles back and runs out of the library. His large ears Pricking up he could now hear a large amount of commotion all over the school.
Running down a hallway Jayden see's a tail disappear around a bend. "Eshy?" Jayden whispers as he races down the hall to catch up. Hearing a noise behind him Jayden turns to see that it is just a student walking in the other direction.
Turning back around Jayden see's the tail disappear around the opposite corner. Running toward where he saw the tail last he looked over to the left to see what the tail must have been running from, 5 students with large yellow eyes. Standing his ground blocking the door that the tail had disappeared through. The students coming closer looked crazed and Jayden knew that they meant him harm. Concentrating hard Jayden wills fire to encircle them keeping them at bay. Focusing on each of them Jayden siphons their power until they fall down in a deep sleep.
Turning toward the door the tail disappeared through Jayden opens it and whispers "Eshy?" Looking down Jayden see's a girl that is wearing a bucket on her head and brandishing a plunger. Blinking twice Jayden slowly closes the door to the janitor’s closet and whispers "Not Eshy." Jayden decides he'd better go back to his box where things weren't so weird.
Jayden wandered aimlessly till he found the library. Looking astounded, Jayden rushed to the shelves looking for new things to read. Jayden in his whole life had never seen so many books. His Father had been an Evangelist as long as he could remember, and he had allowed Jayden to read the bible so he could understand his sins. Since then Jayden was addicted and read everything he could find.
Flipping his fingers through the books Jayden see's a glint of yellow deep behind the shelf. Reaching for it out of curiosity, the yellow glint disappeared and in its place were large hands that were no reaching for Jayden. Letting out a sharp "Eep!" Jayden stumbles back and runs out of the library. His large ears Pricking up he could now hear a large amount of commotion all over the school.
Running down a hallway Jayden see's a tail disappear around a bend. "Eshy?" Jayden whispers as he races down the hall to catch up. Hearing a noise behind him Jayden turns to see that it is just a student walking in the other direction.
Turning back around Jayden see's the tail disappear around the opposite corner. Running toward where he saw the tail last he looked over to the left to see what the tail must have been running from, 5 students with large yellow eyes. Standing his ground blocking the door that the tail had disappeared through. The students coming closer looked crazed and Jayden knew that they meant him harm. Concentrating hard Jayden wills fire to encircle them keeping them at bay. Focusing on each of them Jayden siphons their power until they fall down in a deep sleep.
Turning toward the door the tail disappeared through Jayden opens it and whispers "Eshy?" Looking down Jayden see's a girl that is wearing a bucket on her head and brandishing a plunger. Blinking twice Jayden slowly closes the door to the janitor’s closet and whispers "Not Eshy." Jayden decides he'd better go back to his box where things weren't so weird.
-
Stasis Kiss
- Supreme Commander of teh Intarwebs
- Posts: 2403
- Joined: Sun Jan 29, 2006 1:24 pm
- Location: just left of center
- Contact:
She'd been so absorbed in the daydream that when the bell rang, she nearly yelped in surprise.
She looked around guiltily but nobody seemed to have noticed; grabbing books, standing, talking. The Sister was saying something about whatever chapter they were supposed to read for next class but nobody was paying any attention to that either.
She looked out the window but saw only the manicured common grounds, statues that didn't move and trees that grew in proper orientation to their gravity. The sky was back to being relentlessly, boring blue again.
Just St. Joseph's, just another day of struggling to understand things that made no sense. Who cared to read about some guy that lived four hundred years ago? She didn't, that's for sure.
She swept her books into her arms and strode out of the classroom, feeling suddenly stupid.
She'd been daydreaming about Jai. She hadn't seen him in so long, with not even a note to say where he'd gone or why. Nobody would tell her either; he wasn't in any of his classes, his roommate Misericorde didn't know where he was. If anyone would know, Mis would and Mis would have told her. He was good about stuff like that, even the stuff that hurt. Maybe especially the stuff that hurt.
She didn't think he was... gone, gone. Just maybe missing. When somebody went missing nobody would say anything, that was how it worked and since nobody was saying anything, it sort of stood to reason. She'd tried to ask at the office but Miss Sinclair couldn't or wouldn't tell her anything. Jai Marchan had been given leave from the school and that's all that Gemini would say. She'd left more frustrated than when she'd walked in.
She hadn't realised how much she missed him either until Kali had taken them to Firebase Zulu the day before. Standing there, with a hundred years of ozone heavy in the air, pale lightning on the horizon... she'd suddenly wanted to cry.
Jai would have loved it. He would have stood with her on the upthrust fingers of stone, balanced and sure as he always was. They would have held hands and laughed.
She wanted so much to watch the suicide colors play in his eyes. So far down in Zulu that forever was meaningless. Jai would have understood. Kali and Seraph were good friends, but they didn't know, not all the way. Not the way her vaudun boy did.
Mis had laughed, of course, when she'd told him about it, about wanting to take Jai into that dangerous place. He's from Trinidad, Stasi, and Zulus are from Africa. He'd poked her in the shoulder and made her angry. Mis was like that too. Sometimes he could say the stupidest things.
The lock combination spun under her fingers and she dumped her books on the middle shelf. Maybe she'd go down to the cafeteria and buy a sandwich. It was nice outside; she could eat it on the lawn.
"Ready, Stasis?"
This time she did yelp, slamming the locker door shut.
"William! Don't.. don't scare me like that." Her eyes were wide, she could feel it. Her new friend had already taken a half step back.
William cocked his head to one side, unsure. "Did you forget we were going to study during lunch?"
She blinked and then groaned. "Oh, man! Was that today?"
And she had forgotten. She'd met William last week when she'd lost her homework and he'd stayed after class to help her look for it. They sat and talked afterwards and when she'd confessed she was terrible at math, he'd offered to help with that too. For a little bit she'd kinda hoped that meant he'd do it for her, but no, it just meant he was going to teach her to do it for herself.
Why didn't anybody offer to do her homework? She was stuck with Mimi's and it just wasn't fair.
William was still looking at her uncertainly though. She blew the hair out of her eyes and smiled weakly.
"I guess rescheduling is a bad idea, heyla?"
He smiled back though, his normally serious expression lightening. "Very bad. Passing grade by summer, remember?"
"Right." She sighed dramatically and was rewarded with a slightly bigger grin. "Okay, let me grab my stuff."
But her stuff wasn't there. She searched both shelves and started rummaging at the bottom, shoving aside the second set of boots, a broken umbrella and a backpack she never managed to take back to the quad.
"Stasis?" She tried the second shelf again. "Did you lose something?" She went back to the top shelf, but there was nothing there but an impressive set of dust bunnies. "Can I help?"
"Ayuh, William! I can't find my pencil case. I must have lost it somewhere." It had her calculator and stuff in it too, a pebble from a certain beach in Striga and a ticket stub for a movie. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the offending locker. "It's just not here."
"Where did you see it last?"
"In class. William! I must have left it in my last class. I grabbed all my stuff but maybe it fell on the floor. C'mon."
She banged the locker shut and took three steps. Turned around and went back to spin the combination closed and then charged off again, the bemused William in tow.
Chattering away, she took a corner at speed and actually barrelled into a trio of kids. "Sorry!" she said over her shoulder, not recognising any of them. "My fault!"
It was William that noticed that something wasn't quite right, maybe because he was following behind but probably more because he was just more observant than Stasi. The three guys were staring after the disappearing form of the tanker girl, but not in a good way. There was an intensity there he didn't like but they weren't moving or anything so he sidestepped around them, offering his own quiet apology.
He was never sure afterwards why, but he looked back when he got to the classroom door that Stasis had entered. It gave him a few seconds warning.
"Stasis!"
His friend was was bending over a desk, her plaid skirt a dangerous molecule away from overexposure but the crow of delight said everything.
"Found it, William! Stupid thing was under the radiator." She straightened up, cheek flushed and holding her pencil case triumphantly. "I rock."
"Stasis, this is not good!"
William was already backing away from the door, raising his hands defensively. He was just barely out of the way when the first of the kids that Stasis had run into came in behind him.
The guy was moving all funny, stiff legged and jerky. He walked into the class with his fists balled even as William backed up a little more. He wasn't even that big but he was acting like he was ten feet tall, starting to advance on the smaller boy. But it wasn't until his two friends came in behind him though that she realised something really wasn't right.
Their eyes were glowing, leaving tiny tracers of yellow as they swung their heads to orient on the two friends. It was eerie.
"Uh. Hey, guys. Sorry about bumping into you." She put her pencil case down carefully and brought her hands up in mimicry of William's hasty position. "I'm totally sorry. Lemme buy you a drink?" She grinned weakly as the movie line came up to her lips.
The answer was swift. The first guy picked up a desk and threw it at her.
She was on the ground before she realised it, shattered glass sprinkling her clothes.
"Stasis!"
She scrambled to her feet, ignoring a sudden pain in her shoulder. She'd caught at least part of it in the desperate dive to the floor. She had a brief glimpse of William dodging around the teacher's desk as two of them charged for his position. Bits of paper bounced off the surface as he tried to focus his telekinetic powers.
The first guy was still coming for her though and she lost track of her friend as she had to dive again to the side. She threw up a hand and tried to catch her attacker in ice. No go. The air swirled with frost but she'd missed and she had to scramble away again. Something crashed into a wall over her head.
"One is down!" William's cry of victory jerked her head up and she was treated to sight of him standing on the teacher's station, one hand still extended. One of the trio was out, she could only see his shoes.
"Behind you!" Too late. The second guy was on William, tackling him to the desk, punching. Paper and books flew everywhere as the smaller kid tried to fight off the larger. In horror she saw hands wrap around William's throat.
This time she had a clear shot. Ice flew from her fingers in razor shards.
Something large hit her in the back. She was on the ground again, trying desperately to breathe. She rolled over on her back.
He was standing over top of her, his face twisted in a rictus of rage. He grabbed another desk and brought it up, even as she tried pull the ice out of the air, encase him in it. She was near sobbing with the strain, her mind clumsy and slow. She almost had it.
A distortion ripped through the air, hit her aggressor in the chest. He stumbled back and then fell, howling. Impossibly William was there, grabbing her arms, pulling her up. She couldn't help the hiss of pain as he yanked on her damaged shoulder.
"Easy on!"
"We've got to leave!" William's face was scared. So was hers. They both looked around at the destroyed classroom. The one she'd pegged with the ice lance nowhere to be seen but the other two were already starting to get up again.
She grabbed William's hand and they ran for the door.
Chaos met their eyes in the hallway. There were kids running everywhere. One boy had another in a headlock, dragging him along. Stasis raised a hand, but then realised the one in control didn't have yellow eyes. She looked around in a daze.
"Stasis, we have to lock the door!" William's hand dropped from hers and he whirled, hanging onto the doorhandle. "We can't let them out!"
One of Mis' favorite phrases sprang to her lips. He was right. She looked through the glass, saw two pairs of eyes starting to advance and actually said it.
She put her hands on the door and called for ice. This time there was no haze to contend with and William yanked his hands away. The rime solidfied, inches thick, sealing the hinges and lock.
"You could have warned me!"
She blew the hair out of her eyes. "Ayuh. William, get your hands off the door. I'm going to make it all chilly." She tried to peer through the glass again but couldn't see anything more than a hazy shadow. A thick sound jolted the ice. Probably somebody trying to pound their way through on the other side.
Stasi turned and put her back to the door, sliding down to sit. After a moment William did the same, bracing himself on a locker. Together they watched the other kids running in the hallways. Distant yelling could heard.
She looked over. "Nice shiner."
"Shiner?"
"Your eye. You always start fights by putting your face into somebody's fist? Because that's the wrong way to do it, trust me." She grinned crookedly as her friend raised a tentative hand.
William smiled a bemused smile as his fingers explored his face, she smiled back and then they were both laughing hard enough to hurt. She wrapped her fingers around her ribs, letting the aftershock shake her body. Eventually though she wiped away the tears of release and settled herself more firmly against the door. The pain in her shoulder had settled to a dull throb. Probably just dislocated. Another thump jarred her between the shoulderblades.
"Pipe down in there!" she yelled.
"Oh. They'll just crawl out the windows when they figure out they can't get through the door. I'd better go... "
She leaned forward and snagged him by a leg as he tried to get up. "They're not going anywhere, relax."
"What do you mean?"
She rapped the ice with the knuckles of one hand. "Because I'm here. 'S my ice, this stuff and I'm channeling through it. They know I'm on the other side and they'll keep throwing themselves at this door until they can get to me. No worries." The door shook again as if in answer. William shook his head but sat back down again.
After a minute he said, "Do you think we should go help everyone else?" He was still touching his eye, as if he couldn't believe he'd been hit.
She pursed her hips and thought for a second. The guy in the headlock was long gone. "Neh. Let them catch their own. We've got ours."
When William looked at her in astonishment, she gave him the thumbsup.
"Better than doing math, trust me."
She looked around guiltily but nobody seemed to have noticed; grabbing books, standing, talking. The Sister was saying something about whatever chapter they were supposed to read for next class but nobody was paying any attention to that either.
She looked out the window but saw only the manicured common grounds, statues that didn't move and trees that grew in proper orientation to their gravity. The sky was back to being relentlessly, boring blue again.
Just St. Joseph's, just another day of struggling to understand things that made no sense. Who cared to read about some guy that lived four hundred years ago? She didn't, that's for sure.
She swept her books into her arms and strode out of the classroom, feeling suddenly stupid.
She'd been daydreaming about Jai. She hadn't seen him in so long, with not even a note to say where he'd gone or why. Nobody would tell her either; he wasn't in any of his classes, his roommate Misericorde didn't know where he was. If anyone would know, Mis would and Mis would have told her. He was good about stuff like that, even the stuff that hurt. Maybe especially the stuff that hurt.
She didn't think he was... gone, gone. Just maybe missing. When somebody went missing nobody would say anything, that was how it worked and since nobody was saying anything, it sort of stood to reason. She'd tried to ask at the office but Miss Sinclair couldn't or wouldn't tell her anything. Jai Marchan had been given leave from the school and that's all that Gemini would say. She'd left more frustrated than when she'd walked in.
She hadn't realised how much she missed him either until Kali had taken them to Firebase Zulu the day before. Standing there, with a hundred years of ozone heavy in the air, pale lightning on the horizon... she'd suddenly wanted to cry.
Jai would have loved it. He would have stood with her on the upthrust fingers of stone, balanced and sure as he always was. They would have held hands and laughed.
She wanted so much to watch the suicide colors play in his eyes. So far down in Zulu that forever was meaningless. Jai would have understood. Kali and Seraph were good friends, but they didn't know, not all the way. Not the way her vaudun boy did.
Mis had laughed, of course, when she'd told him about it, about wanting to take Jai into that dangerous place. He's from Trinidad, Stasi, and Zulus are from Africa. He'd poked her in the shoulder and made her angry. Mis was like that too. Sometimes he could say the stupidest things.
The lock combination spun under her fingers and she dumped her books on the middle shelf. Maybe she'd go down to the cafeteria and buy a sandwich. It was nice outside; she could eat it on the lawn.
"Ready, Stasis?"
This time she did yelp, slamming the locker door shut.
"William! Don't.. don't scare me like that." Her eyes were wide, she could feel it. Her new friend had already taken a half step back.
William cocked his head to one side, unsure. "Did you forget we were going to study during lunch?"
She blinked and then groaned. "Oh, man! Was that today?"
And she had forgotten. She'd met William last week when she'd lost her homework and he'd stayed after class to help her look for it. They sat and talked afterwards and when she'd confessed she was terrible at math, he'd offered to help with that too. For a little bit she'd kinda hoped that meant he'd do it for her, but no, it just meant he was going to teach her to do it for herself.
Why didn't anybody offer to do her homework? She was stuck with Mimi's and it just wasn't fair.
William was still looking at her uncertainly though. She blew the hair out of her eyes and smiled weakly.
"I guess rescheduling is a bad idea, heyla?"
He smiled back though, his normally serious expression lightening. "Very bad. Passing grade by summer, remember?"
"Right." She sighed dramatically and was rewarded with a slightly bigger grin. "Okay, let me grab my stuff."
But her stuff wasn't there. She searched both shelves and started rummaging at the bottom, shoving aside the second set of boots, a broken umbrella and a backpack she never managed to take back to the quad.
"Stasis?" She tried the second shelf again. "Did you lose something?" She went back to the top shelf, but there was nothing there but an impressive set of dust bunnies. "Can I help?"
"Ayuh, William! I can't find my pencil case. I must have lost it somewhere." It had her calculator and stuff in it too, a pebble from a certain beach in Striga and a ticket stub for a movie. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the offending locker. "It's just not here."
"Where did you see it last?"
"In class. William! I must have left it in my last class. I grabbed all my stuff but maybe it fell on the floor. C'mon."
She banged the locker shut and took three steps. Turned around and went back to spin the combination closed and then charged off again, the bemused William in tow.
Chattering away, she took a corner at speed and actually barrelled into a trio of kids. "Sorry!" she said over her shoulder, not recognising any of them. "My fault!"
It was William that noticed that something wasn't quite right, maybe because he was following behind but probably more because he was just more observant than Stasi. The three guys were staring after the disappearing form of the tanker girl, but not in a good way. There was an intensity there he didn't like but they weren't moving or anything so he sidestepped around them, offering his own quiet apology.
He was never sure afterwards why, but he looked back when he got to the classroom door that Stasis had entered. It gave him a few seconds warning.
"Stasis!"
His friend was was bending over a desk, her plaid skirt a dangerous molecule away from overexposure but the crow of delight said everything.
"Found it, William! Stupid thing was under the radiator." She straightened up, cheek flushed and holding her pencil case triumphantly. "I rock."
"Stasis, this is not good!"
William was already backing away from the door, raising his hands defensively. He was just barely out of the way when the first of the kids that Stasis had run into came in behind him.
The guy was moving all funny, stiff legged and jerky. He walked into the class with his fists balled even as William backed up a little more. He wasn't even that big but he was acting like he was ten feet tall, starting to advance on the smaller boy. But it wasn't until his two friends came in behind him though that she realised something really wasn't right.
Their eyes were glowing, leaving tiny tracers of yellow as they swung their heads to orient on the two friends. It was eerie.
"Uh. Hey, guys. Sorry about bumping into you." She put her pencil case down carefully and brought her hands up in mimicry of William's hasty position. "I'm totally sorry. Lemme buy you a drink?" She grinned weakly as the movie line came up to her lips.
The answer was swift. The first guy picked up a desk and threw it at her.
She was on the ground before she realised it, shattered glass sprinkling her clothes.
"Stasis!"
She scrambled to her feet, ignoring a sudden pain in her shoulder. She'd caught at least part of it in the desperate dive to the floor. She had a brief glimpse of William dodging around the teacher's desk as two of them charged for his position. Bits of paper bounced off the surface as he tried to focus his telekinetic powers.
The first guy was still coming for her though and she lost track of her friend as she had to dive again to the side. She threw up a hand and tried to catch her attacker in ice. No go. The air swirled with frost but she'd missed and she had to scramble away again. Something crashed into a wall over her head.
"One is down!" William's cry of victory jerked her head up and she was treated to sight of him standing on the teacher's station, one hand still extended. One of the trio was out, she could only see his shoes.
"Behind you!" Too late. The second guy was on William, tackling him to the desk, punching. Paper and books flew everywhere as the smaller kid tried to fight off the larger. In horror she saw hands wrap around William's throat.
This time she had a clear shot. Ice flew from her fingers in razor shards.
Something large hit her in the back. She was on the ground again, trying desperately to breathe. She rolled over on her back.
He was standing over top of her, his face twisted in a rictus of rage. He grabbed another desk and brought it up, even as she tried pull the ice out of the air, encase him in it. She was near sobbing with the strain, her mind clumsy and slow. She almost had it.
A distortion ripped through the air, hit her aggressor in the chest. He stumbled back and then fell, howling. Impossibly William was there, grabbing her arms, pulling her up. She couldn't help the hiss of pain as he yanked on her damaged shoulder.
"Easy on!"
"We've got to leave!" William's face was scared. So was hers. They both looked around at the destroyed classroom. The one she'd pegged with the ice lance nowhere to be seen but the other two were already starting to get up again.
She grabbed William's hand and they ran for the door.
Chaos met their eyes in the hallway. There were kids running everywhere. One boy had another in a headlock, dragging him along. Stasis raised a hand, but then realised the one in control didn't have yellow eyes. She looked around in a daze.
"Stasis, we have to lock the door!" William's hand dropped from hers and he whirled, hanging onto the doorhandle. "We can't let them out!"
One of Mis' favorite phrases sprang to her lips. He was right. She looked through the glass, saw two pairs of eyes starting to advance and actually said it.
She put her hands on the door and called for ice. This time there was no haze to contend with and William yanked his hands away. The rime solidfied, inches thick, sealing the hinges and lock.
"You could have warned me!"
She blew the hair out of her eyes. "Ayuh. William, get your hands off the door. I'm going to make it all chilly." She tried to peer through the glass again but couldn't see anything more than a hazy shadow. A thick sound jolted the ice. Probably somebody trying to pound their way through on the other side.
Stasi turned and put her back to the door, sliding down to sit. After a moment William did the same, bracing himself on a locker. Together they watched the other kids running in the hallways. Distant yelling could heard.
She looked over. "Nice shiner."
"Shiner?"
"Your eye. You always start fights by putting your face into somebody's fist? Because that's the wrong way to do it, trust me." She grinned crookedly as her friend raised a tentative hand.
William smiled a bemused smile as his fingers explored his face, she smiled back and then they were both laughing hard enough to hurt. She wrapped her fingers around her ribs, letting the aftershock shake her body. Eventually though she wiped away the tears of release and settled herself more firmly against the door. The pain in her shoulder had settled to a dull throb. Probably just dislocated. Another thump jarred her between the shoulderblades.
"Pipe down in there!" she yelled.
"Oh. They'll just crawl out the windows when they figure out they can't get through the door. I'd better go... "
She leaned forward and snagged him by a leg as he tried to get up. "They're not going anywhere, relax."
"What do you mean?"
She rapped the ice with the knuckles of one hand. "Because I'm here. 'S my ice, this stuff and I'm channeling through it. They know I'm on the other side and they'll keep throwing themselves at this door until they can get to me. No worries." The door shook again as if in answer. William shook his head but sat back down again.
After a minute he said, "Do you think we should go help everyone else?" He was still touching his eye, as if he couldn't believe he'd been hit.
She pursed her hips and thought for a second. The guy in the headlock was long gone. "Neh. Let them catch their own. We've got ours."
When William looked at her in astonishment, she gave him the thumbsup.
"Better than doing math, trust me."
"So pay attention to me; I don't talk for my health."
"I want you on my team."
"... So does everybody else."
"I want you on my team."
"... So does everybody else."
Football practice was held in the sun, the hot, scorching, beating down sun. All the players were sweltering in their pads and uniforms. For obvious reasons, Glacial Mass was an extremely popular guy, but even he had to admit that it was "warm". Oby shook his head during the short break, watching as his roomate brought drinks out to everyone. Oby grabbed a cup of water and splashed it over his head, and felt the cool trickle as it ran down the back of his jersey. No, make that COLD trickle.
"Sorry, Roomie, you looked like you could use the cool down." Glacial smirked, as the bit of steam that snaked off his hand around his arm before disappating was the only indication of his guilt.
Oby shivered a bit, and grinned "Just remember, I know where you sleep!" He said as he pulled his helmet back on.
Coach Waters blew his whistle, and players groaned. "Break time is over ladies, back at it! If I catch any of you dogging it, you'll be running till the sun goes down!" A chorus of grumbling followed the boys back to the huddles, along with several interesting theories on the coach's family heritage.
The play was called in. A quick dive, off tackle. The ball was hiked, and Oby took the handoff, and hit the hole behind the left tackle. Brian Cashtmeer, playing linebacker bore down on Oby, looking to bring the boy to the ground.
"Not this time, Cash!" Oby taunted, faked a step right and reversed direction left. Cashtmeer bit on the first move, and Oby delivered a shuddering stiff arm to the other boy's helmet, pushing him to the ground, as he danced out of reach, and headed for open ground. Krazy Katana wrapped Oby up and Coach Waters blew the whistle, ending the play.
"Nice juke, Obs." Katana said, giving the stone skinned running back a friendly cuff to the head, as Oby headed back to the offense.
"Bwahahaha...Oby went whoop, Cash went whoops!" Linebacker Bill laughed. The normal good natured chuckling erupted from the team.
Oby, still smiling walked over and offered a hand up to Cashtmeer, who was still lying on the ground. "C'mon Cash, I didn't hit you that hard. Get up. You'll have another shot at me later." Oby chided, "Maybe you'll even get a hand on me next time."
Cahstmeer grabbed Oby's hand, and rose slowly, as Brian's head shot up, glaring at Oby. Something was wrong. Brian was breathing hard, each breath punctuated by a slight growl. The grip tightened, locking onto Oby's hand. "C'mon Cash, we joke like this all the time, chill out." Oby tried to pull his hand loose, but Cashtmeer latched on.
"Joke! That's all I am to you isn't it? Some kind of joke!" White, foamy flecks of spittle flew from Brian's mouth, hitting and hanging on his facemask like some parody of an icicle. "I'll show you who's a joke!" A low growl escaped his lips.
Oby felt a sharp jerk, and his feet left the turf. For a moment he thought he was flying, until he felt another tug. Cashtmeer pulled him from his feet, but had never let go. If this was flying, it was coming to an abrupt stop as Brian threw Oby into the turf. Dazed, Oby tried to get up, but felt Cashtmeer's hand with its crushing grasp still locked onto his own. "Oh, shit." A sharp jerk yanked Oby back up, right at Cashtmeer, who's other hand was cocked back over his shoulder in a readied fist. The punch came, crashing through the protective facemask on Oby's helmet, deflecting just enough of the blow, so it glanced off the side of the helmet, instead of hitting Oby flush. Oby watched in curiosity as his helmet lay on the field in pieces. The ringing in his ears a sharp counterpoint to the vision that was swimming in front of him. As much as he wanted to he couldn't concentrate hard enough to trigger his powers. His lolled to the side, looking at Brian, and thinking that he'd never noticed that Brian had bright yellow eyes before.
Coach Waters concentrated on Cashtmeer after the boy had lifted Oby and dropped him on the ground. The normal feeling he got, like he was reaching around a flame and snuffing it out, when shutting a student's powers down, slipped around Brian like he was trying to grab a handful of mercury. Something was definitely WRONG. "Bill, Hannigan, take Cash down, NOW!"
"BLITZ!!" Bill yelled, crashing into Brian's side, hard enough to dent car doors. Biff Hannigan hit him lower, crashing into the boy's legs. Brian dropped Oby as he was toppled, reached out with both hands, grabbing Bill's helmet, and squeezing. Fissures stood out against the "Flying Friars" logo on the side of the helmet. Bill roared, his huge head tilting back in pain. Then it shot forward again, the crown of his helmet colliding solidly with Brian's. The smaller boy crashed to the turf, and Biff Hannigan jumped on top of him holding down an arm. Bill fell onto the other arm, both of them struggling to hold the much smaller boy down. The helmet had cracked in half under the force of Bill's headbutt, and the team looked down looks of disbelief, horror, and astonishment covering their faces. Brian Cashtmeer's face was a roadmap of rage. Eyes burned bright yellow, face reddened by the exertion, and spiderwebs of blue veins showed beneath the skin. Foam flecked around lips that cracked, and bled, barely holding the gnashing teeth back. Growls accentuated the thrashing about, transforming the boy into something more animal than human.
Alex ran over to his roomate, as Oby shook his head, and started to rise with the other boy's help, both of them looking over at Brian. Oby looked up at Alex. Oby stood, still bent over, hands on knees, "I'll be okay, just a little dazed. Wasn't expecting that. Go get some help for that." He indicated the writhing boy with a nod of his head, held to the ground by Hannigan, Linebacker Bill, and now a few of the other players.
The two roomates exchange a look. Something was definitely not right at St Joe's.
"Sorry, Roomie, you looked like you could use the cool down." Glacial smirked, as the bit of steam that snaked off his hand around his arm before disappating was the only indication of his guilt.
Oby shivered a bit, and grinned "Just remember, I know where you sleep!" He said as he pulled his helmet back on.
Coach Waters blew his whistle, and players groaned. "Break time is over ladies, back at it! If I catch any of you dogging it, you'll be running till the sun goes down!" A chorus of grumbling followed the boys back to the huddles, along with several interesting theories on the coach's family heritage.
The play was called in. A quick dive, off tackle. The ball was hiked, and Oby took the handoff, and hit the hole behind the left tackle. Brian Cashtmeer, playing linebacker bore down on Oby, looking to bring the boy to the ground.
"Not this time, Cash!" Oby taunted, faked a step right and reversed direction left. Cashtmeer bit on the first move, and Oby delivered a shuddering stiff arm to the other boy's helmet, pushing him to the ground, as he danced out of reach, and headed for open ground. Krazy Katana wrapped Oby up and Coach Waters blew the whistle, ending the play.
"Nice juke, Obs." Katana said, giving the stone skinned running back a friendly cuff to the head, as Oby headed back to the offense.
"Bwahahaha...Oby went whoop, Cash went whoops!" Linebacker Bill laughed. The normal good natured chuckling erupted from the team.
Oby, still smiling walked over and offered a hand up to Cashtmeer, who was still lying on the ground. "C'mon Cash, I didn't hit you that hard. Get up. You'll have another shot at me later." Oby chided, "Maybe you'll even get a hand on me next time."
Cahstmeer grabbed Oby's hand, and rose slowly, as Brian's head shot up, glaring at Oby. Something was wrong. Brian was breathing hard, each breath punctuated by a slight growl. The grip tightened, locking onto Oby's hand. "C'mon Cash, we joke like this all the time, chill out." Oby tried to pull his hand loose, but Cashtmeer latched on.
"Joke! That's all I am to you isn't it? Some kind of joke!" White, foamy flecks of spittle flew from Brian's mouth, hitting and hanging on his facemask like some parody of an icicle. "I'll show you who's a joke!" A low growl escaped his lips.
Oby felt a sharp jerk, and his feet left the turf. For a moment he thought he was flying, until he felt another tug. Cashtmeer pulled him from his feet, but had never let go. If this was flying, it was coming to an abrupt stop as Brian threw Oby into the turf. Dazed, Oby tried to get up, but felt Cashtmeer's hand with its crushing grasp still locked onto his own. "Oh, shit." A sharp jerk yanked Oby back up, right at Cashtmeer, who's other hand was cocked back over his shoulder in a readied fist. The punch came, crashing through the protective facemask on Oby's helmet, deflecting just enough of the blow, so it glanced off the side of the helmet, instead of hitting Oby flush. Oby watched in curiosity as his helmet lay on the field in pieces. The ringing in his ears a sharp counterpoint to the vision that was swimming in front of him. As much as he wanted to he couldn't concentrate hard enough to trigger his powers. His lolled to the side, looking at Brian, and thinking that he'd never noticed that Brian had bright yellow eyes before.
Coach Waters concentrated on Cashtmeer after the boy had lifted Oby and dropped him on the ground. The normal feeling he got, like he was reaching around a flame and snuffing it out, when shutting a student's powers down, slipped around Brian like he was trying to grab a handful of mercury. Something was definitely WRONG. "Bill, Hannigan, take Cash down, NOW!"
"BLITZ!!" Bill yelled, crashing into Brian's side, hard enough to dent car doors. Biff Hannigan hit him lower, crashing into the boy's legs. Brian dropped Oby as he was toppled, reached out with both hands, grabbing Bill's helmet, and squeezing. Fissures stood out against the "Flying Friars" logo on the side of the helmet. Bill roared, his huge head tilting back in pain. Then it shot forward again, the crown of his helmet colliding solidly with Brian's. The smaller boy crashed to the turf, and Biff Hannigan jumped on top of him holding down an arm. Bill fell onto the other arm, both of them struggling to hold the much smaller boy down. The helmet had cracked in half under the force of Bill's headbutt, and the team looked down looks of disbelief, horror, and astonishment covering their faces. Brian Cashtmeer's face was a roadmap of rage. Eyes burned bright yellow, face reddened by the exertion, and spiderwebs of blue veins showed beneath the skin. Foam flecked around lips that cracked, and bled, barely holding the gnashing teeth back. Growls accentuated the thrashing about, transforming the boy into something more animal than human.
Alex ran over to his roomate, as Oby shook his head, and started to rise with the other boy's help, both of them looking over at Brian. Oby looked up at Alex. Oby stood, still bent over, hands on knees, "I'll be okay, just a little dazed. Wasn't expecting that. Go get some help for that." He indicated the writhing boy with a nod of his head, held to the ground by Hannigan, Linebacker Bill, and now a few of the other players.
The two roomates exchange a look. Something was definitely not right at St Joe's.
Sometimes the only way to see the light, is a journey through darkness
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FrancisCross
- Posts: 1224
- Joined: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:18 am
- Location: Quad 1 Room 2
The soft scratch of a pencil was the only sound in the room. The usual metronome of the clock had long since been silenced by a well placed shock to the face.
She chewed on a lock of her hair in absent-minded irritation. The lengthy list of math problems didn’t seem to be getting any shorter no matter how many hours she spent in the empty classroom.
Francis picked up the offending sheet of paper and read, “Sylvester has a problem. He needs to list 10 possible combinations you could get with 4 darts. The numbers on the targets are 7-5-3-1. How would he try to establish a logical method of doing this?”
She raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Sylvester’s got a problem all right.”
A crash out in the hallway caused her to look up. In the frosted glass of the classroom door she could make out movement, but what exactly was happening was impossible to tell. The crash was soon followed by a gruff voice and the peal of someone crying.
Furling her brow Francis kicked her desk out to the side and got up. Several papers fluttered to the floor but the marred, black, combat boots had little mercy. She got to the door and cracked it open, the smell of tile cleaner and chalk dust wafted in with the cool, hallway air.
She saw a girl curled up in the middle of the floor, her sobs muffled against her arms which were thrown defensively over her head. Francis looked up the hallway and down.
No one.
Confused, she stepped out.
“Hey, kid. You ok?” She knelt down next to the girl, she caught the glimpse of a bloodied nose and a small cut above her eye. Francis shook her shoulder lightly.
“Hey, what happened? Somebody hit you?”
The girl looked up, tears brimming around the edges of her eyes.
Francis froze. The girl’s eyes shifted color, she knew she had not imagined it, but it had been almost a year since she had seen that look. The look of the sickness.”
“Oh shi…” It was all that she managed before the girl grabbed her, forcing her to the floor in a wrestler’s twist. The voice that came from her was strained and congested, muttering in hoarse syllables.
“Non dolet.” The voice hissed. (Latin: It does not hurt)
Francis struggled, twisting and rolling in an attempt to break free.
“Non dolet.” The voice coughed again.
Francis tried to think quickly, but all that came out was rash and tinged with fear. She fought again, this time tightening her fingers in the girl’s jacket. She brought the words of her magic to her lips..a spell not meant to kill, only to stun and incapacitate; as only electricity can do.
“Vis unita fortior!” (Latin: Strength through Unity)
The blue crackle of energy arched from her fingertips across the pained look of the girl. But to Francis’ horror, it was not nearly enough. The blow that had laid low countless foes in her path, had barely scratched this girl. She nearly screamed as she saw the eyes of the young student suddenly go cloudy, as though she were rendered blind without cause.
The thing struck. Hard.
Francis could feel the warm trickle of blood down her temple and her vision began to darken. This didn’t make sense…what was happening…who could…what…but it couldn’t….
Everything fell into darkness.
Francis did not hear the strange voice that cut through the yells and resounding fights in the halls of St. Joe’s, dripping from the lips of a stranger without a name.
“Non mihi, non tibi, sed eum.” (Latin: Not for you, not for me, but for him.)
She chewed on a lock of her hair in absent-minded irritation. The lengthy list of math problems didn’t seem to be getting any shorter no matter how many hours she spent in the empty classroom.
Francis picked up the offending sheet of paper and read, “Sylvester has a problem. He needs to list 10 possible combinations you could get with 4 darts. The numbers on the targets are 7-5-3-1. How would he try to establish a logical method of doing this?”
She raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Sylvester’s got a problem all right.”
A crash out in the hallway caused her to look up. In the frosted glass of the classroom door she could make out movement, but what exactly was happening was impossible to tell. The crash was soon followed by a gruff voice and the peal of someone crying.
Furling her brow Francis kicked her desk out to the side and got up. Several papers fluttered to the floor but the marred, black, combat boots had little mercy. She got to the door and cracked it open, the smell of tile cleaner and chalk dust wafted in with the cool, hallway air.
She saw a girl curled up in the middle of the floor, her sobs muffled against her arms which were thrown defensively over her head. Francis looked up the hallway and down.
No one.
Confused, she stepped out.
“Hey, kid. You ok?” She knelt down next to the girl, she caught the glimpse of a bloodied nose and a small cut above her eye. Francis shook her shoulder lightly.
“Hey, what happened? Somebody hit you?”
The girl looked up, tears brimming around the edges of her eyes.
Francis froze. The girl’s eyes shifted color, she knew she had not imagined it, but it had been almost a year since she had seen that look. The look of the sickness.”
“Oh shi…” It was all that she managed before the girl grabbed her, forcing her to the floor in a wrestler’s twist. The voice that came from her was strained and congested, muttering in hoarse syllables.
“Non dolet.” The voice hissed. (Latin: It does not hurt)
Francis struggled, twisting and rolling in an attempt to break free.
“Non dolet.” The voice coughed again.
Francis tried to think quickly, but all that came out was rash and tinged with fear. She fought again, this time tightening her fingers in the girl’s jacket. She brought the words of her magic to her lips..a spell not meant to kill, only to stun and incapacitate; as only electricity can do.
“Vis unita fortior!” (Latin: Strength through Unity)
The blue crackle of energy arched from her fingertips across the pained look of the girl. But to Francis’ horror, it was not nearly enough. The blow that had laid low countless foes in her path, had barely scratched this girl. She nearly screamed as she saw the eyes of the young student suddenly go cloudy, as though she were rendered blind without cause.
The thing struck. Hard.
Francis could feel the warm trickle of blood down her temple and her vision began to darken. This didn’t make sense…what was happening…who could…what…but it couldn’t….
Everything fell into darkness.
Francis did not hear the strange voice that cut through the yells and resounding fights in the halls of St. Joe’s, dripping from the lips of a stranger without a name.
“Non mihi, non tibi, sed eum.” (Latin: Not for you, not for me, but for him.)
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Misericorde
- Posts: 1921
- Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2006 9:31 pm
- Location: Saint Joseph's School
- Contact:
Slow motion.
Despite his intense velocity, Michael felt as though he were moving in slow motion as well. He knew full well he had been out of time two minutes ago; pushing the thought aside, he knew all that could be done now was damage control. His mask was forgotten, clenched tightly in one hand.
He hurtled through the streets, the force of displaced air in his passing tearing newspapers from hands, leaves tearing and spinning from trees. Faster. The heliotropic figures on the streets slowed to a crawl, as his feet carried him towards the final War Wall Gate that enclosed the relatively serene streets and residences surrounding Saint Joseph's School.
Slow motion.
Michael squinted, enhanced sight picking out the lights slowly blinked on and off atop the PPD Barricade. A Longbow Flyer was parked nearby, and agents were spilling out. It appeared they were beginning containment protocols, directed by men in black suits and shades...Crey? No, those would be Vanguard.
Seconds later, he was among them, and the world suddenly picked up speed. His stomach lurched as the world seemed to shift almost to fast forward, then regained its normal speed.
"Stay where you are! This Area is Quarantined!" Some hero in Longbow colors stated. Apparently he was some sort of kineticist. Government-sponsored, to boot. A heavy grinding noise filled the air, as the Gate began to rumble shut. The assembled Longbow, Federal, and Municipal authorities all sized up his costume.
"Listen, I have got authorization..." A heavy hand grabbed at his arm roughly, and his fists clenched. Another Warden. Michael assumed he was a Tanker class.
"ID, please," the green-skinned Tanker rumbled.
Michael pressed his lips together in a thin line as he noted the Gate was already mostly closed. "Ok, ok. Let me get my mask on so you can ID me." The Tanker complied, though with obvious hesitation. Michael pulled his mask on, and watched the Gate slowly grinding shut.
"Misericorde, Security Level Forty...Five?" After a slow whistle, The Tanker sized Misericorde up, then relaxed his posture. "Well, regardless, you can't go in. Quarantine, you know how it..."
Misericorde sprung over the Tanker, grabbing his cape in a tight grip, then accelerated into a hypervelocity quarter-turn, slinging the Tanker around in a tight arc. He felt tendons separate and reknit; the simultaneous sickening pop of both arms dislocating with the strain of moving the massive Warden.
"Sorry, we are out of time."
The Kineticist was fast, but not fast enough; he sapped the momentum of the Tank enough to absorb the brunt of his velocity, but not enough to prevent himself from being pinned beneath the larger man.
Misericorde sprang forward towards the Gate, ignored the twin pops of his arms resettling themselves, the beestings of rubber bullets as the Longbow and Paragon SWAT brought riot-control weapons to bear on him. A beanbag caught him in side, threatening to throw him off balance as he landed atop the SWAT truck, toes and feet poised at the edge of the heavy vehicle.
The Gate was almost completely closed now. The wedge od sunlight was shrinking by the second. He used his momentum and the heavy vehicle as a springboard, and executed his leap, willing himself as tight as possible. It was going to be close. He wondered if he could regenerate being sandwiched between the heavy gate doors of the War Wall.
Misericorde closed his eyes as he sailed through the ever-shrinking space between the immense steel doors, felt the smooth edges of the gate scrape lightly across his back and chest as he slid through; his safe passage through punctuated by the dull bell-like sound of the gates sealing behind.
He landed in a shoulder-over-shoulder tumble a hundred meters beyond the PPD Response team on this side of the War Wall, regaining his feet nimbly. Misericorde sprinted off in the direction of the school, the world slowing again to a crawl.
It was maddening. The faster he moved, the slower everything became. Knowing that the Virus had already activated itself in those who were infected made everything worse. Misericorde could only do two things at this point; curtail the damage, and find whoever was responsible.
He managed to arrive before PPD and Longbow had completed securing the perimeter of the school. An easy leap, and he cleared the hedge row surrounding the Athletic field. Most of the teachers and Sisters had assembled their classes outside in the Staging Area, per their disaster drill. Mis figured everyone finally knew why we kept doing those, even after the Rikti had been defeated years ago.
He picked Doctor David Conrads out of the crowd, and made his way towards the school counselor. A few kids and teachers eyed his "working clothes." He almost removed his mask, then thought better of it. "Everyone accounted for?"
Conrads lay a hand on his shoulder gently. "Now, Michael, it's good that you are here. Most of the infected children are restrained. Let the authorities handle the rest." Michael searched Conrad's face, eyes narrowing. David altered his posture slightly, sensing the change in personality. "Michael..."
Misericorde held up his hand. "You can't find Franky, can you?"
Conrads shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "Michael, I am sure she is..." His eyes opened, and the cries of startled students and a rush of displaced air signalled that Misericorde had gone.
Despite his intense velocity, Michael felt as though he were moving in slow motion as well. He knew full well he had been out of time two minutes ago; pushing the thought aside, he knew all that could be done now was damage control. His mask was forgotten, clenched tightly in one hand.
He hurtled through the streets, the force of displaced air in his passing tearing newspapers from hands, leaves tearing and spinning from trees. Faster. The heliotropic figures on the streets slowed to a crawl, as his feet carried him towards the final War Wall Gate that enclosed the relatively serene streets and residences surrounding Saint Joseph's School.
Slow motion.
Michael squinted, enhanced sight picking out the lights slowly blinked on and off atop the PPD Barricade. A Longbow Flyer was parked nearby, and agents were spilling out. It appeared they were beginning containment protocols, directed by men in black suits and shades...Crey? No, those would be Vanguard.
Seconds later, he was among them, and the world suddenly picked up speed. His stomach lurched as the world seemed to shift almost to fast forward, then regained its normal speed.
"Stay where you are! This Area is Quarantined!" Some hero in Longbow colors stated. Apparently he was some sort of kineticist. Government-sponsored, to boot. A heavy grinding noise filled the air, as the Gate began to rumble shut. The assembled Longbow, Federal, and Municipal authorities all sized up his costume.
"Listen, I have got authorization..." A heavy hand grabbed at his arm roughly, and his fists clenched. Another Warden. Michael assumed he was a Tanker class.
"ID, please," the green-skinned Tanker rumbled.
Michael pressed his lips together in a thin line as he noted the Gate was already mostly closed. "Ok, ok. Let me get my mask on so you can ID me." The Tanker complied, though with obvious hesitation. Michael pulled his mask on, and watched the Gate slowly grinding shut.
"Misericorde, Security Level Forty...Five?" After a slow whistle, The Tanker sized Misericorde up, then relaxed his posture. "Well, regardless, you can't go in. Quarantine, you know how it..."
Misericorde sprung over the Tanker, grabbing his cape in a tight grip, then accelerated into a hypervelocity quarter-turn, slinging the Tanker around in a tight arc. He felt tendons separate and reknit; the simultaneous sickening pop of both arms dislocating with the strain of moving the massive Warden.
"Sorry, we are out of time."
The Kineticist was fast, but not fast enough; he sapped the momentum of the Tank enough to absorb the brunt of his velocity, but not enough to prevent himself from being pinned beneath the larger man.
Misericorde sprang forward towards the Gate, ignored the twin pops of his arms resettling themselves, the beestings of rubber bullets as the Longbow and Paragon SWAT brought riot-control weapons to bear on him. A beanbag caught him in side, threatening to throw him off balance as he landed atop the SWAT truck, toes and feet poised at the edge of the heavy vehicle.
The Gate was almost completely closed now. The wedge od sunlight was shrinking by the second. He used his momentum and the heavy vehicle as a springboard, and executed his leap, willing himself as tight as possible. It was going to be close. He wondered if he could regenerate being sandwiched between the heavy gate doors of the War Wall.
Misericorde closed his eyes as he sailed through the ever-shrinking space between the immense steel doors, felt the smooth edges of the gate scrape lightly across his back and chest as he slid through; his safe passage through punctuated by the dull bell-like sound of the gates sealing behind.
He landed in a shoulder-over-shoulder tumble a hundred meters beyond the PPD Response team on this side of the War Wall, regaining his feet nimbly. Misericorde sprinted off in the direction of the school, the world slowing again to a crawl.
It was maddening. The faster he moved, the slower everything became. Knowing that the Virus had already activated itself in those who were infected made everything worse. Misericorde could only do two things at this point; curtail the damage, and find whoever was responsible.
He managed to arrive before PPD and Longbow had completed securing the perimeter of the school. An easy leap, and he cleared the hedge row surrounding the Athletic field. Most of the teachers and Sisters had assembled their classes outside in the Staging Area, per their disaster drill. Mis figured everyone finally knew why we kept doing those, even after the Rikti had been defeated years ago.
He picked Doctor David Conrads out of the crowd, and made his way towards the school counselor. A few kids and teachers eyed his "working clothes." He almost removed his mask, then thought better of it. "Everyone accounted for?"
Conrads lay a hand on his shoulder gently. "Now, Michael, it's good that you are here. Most of the infected children are restrained. Let the authorities handle the rest." Michael searched Conrad's face, eyes narrowing. David altered his posture slightly, sensing the change in personality. "Michael..."
Misericorde held up his hand. "You can't find Franky, can you?"
Conrads shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "Michael, I am sure she is..." His eyes opened, and the cries of startled students and a rush of displaced air signalled that Misericorde had gone.
Origin: 1200–50; ME misericorde lit., pity, mercy, an act of clemency
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
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Misericorde
- Posts: 1921
- Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2006 9:31 pm
- Location: Saint Joseph's School
- Contact:
Misericorde made his way through the abandoned hallways towards the Math and Sciences wing. Everything appeared almost normal, making the events almost surreal. The golden light of late afternoon spilled through the high windows, illuminating tiny specks of dust that danced and spun in the currents of air. Some of the windows were open in the classrooms, allowing the scent of freshly cut grass to mingle with that of chalk dust and old wood.
He was hurried. His chest felt tight, his heart beating heavily in his chest, a drum sending out signals of his anxiety. Michael remembered to unclench his jaw once his teeth began to hurt.
Still, it was best to move cautiously. Misericorde knew full well the intent of biological and chemical weapons; to delay and confuse the enemy. To allow your own forces a chance to mobilize. This incident was one of two things; a distraction, or a test. Whether it was aimed at SJS or a student in particular, he had not known before.
Now Franky was the only student not accounted for. Michael had little faith in coincidence. This was not the first time a school he attended had been targeted.
Mis cursed himself. He should have known better; he certainly had suspected something. Knew it was worse than he had surmised when he had finally found the canister, attached to the watering system below the athletic fields. Glacial Mass probably never realized that his accidental rupture of the system had inadvertently prevented a much larger disaster.
Franky had mentioned she had some studying to finish up this afternoon. Mis was close to the hallway junction near the classroom she usually secreted herself away in for privacy, when he heard someone crying out; a young female. The cool smooth surfaces of the hallway and lockers distorted her voice, but whoever this girl was, it wasn't Franky. He couldn't see her yet, but she was babbling, completely incoherent.
Flattening himself along the wall, Misericorde craned his head around the corner. His fingers tightened on the corner, heart sinking into his gut when he saw Francis crumpled unnaturally on the floor, unmoving. A girl with amazingly kempt hair stumbled blindly along the lockers, banging and shrieking, alternating between what sounded like Latin and animalistic shrieks that almost sounded like words.
Mis secreted himself behind the corner again, and exhaled slowly, relaxing. The infected girl was making too much noise for him to listen for the sounds of Franky's breathing...if indeed she was. If her head or neck was injured, he couldn't risk a high-velocity rescue either.
"No choice," he stated grimly. "Gonna have to." He was in the process of double-checking all his gear for the run, when Francis suddenly moaned in pain; she was apparently not only alive, but regaining conciousness.
The infected girl heard it too, and spun, fingers crabbing into a locker door, tearing it free from it's moorings, and stumbling towards the source of the sound. "STOP TALKING, STOP TALKING, STOP TALKING!" she shrieked, like broken record.
Misericorde rounded the corner at breakneck speed; if he could not remove Franky from danger, he would have to put himself in her place. The familiar stomach-sinking lurch of sudden acceleration to superhuman speed was replaced by the dull metallic sound and muted explosion ofpain as the locker door impacted his back and ribs, shattering bone and warping the door. Shrieking shrilly with rage, the Infected brought it up to swing again.
If she had been blind before, she was not now; her eyes obscured by the putrid amber glow of the Blight. The girl brought the door back and down again and again, hammering away at his body, nearly taking him to a knee with the sheer inhuman force of each blow. His body repaired most of the damage quickly, but he could endure this punishment forever.
Francis stirred below him, as he crouched above her. He threw an arm up to ward off the piece of warped metal that the Infected swung at his head, allowing it to rebound heavily from the denser bone structure there. Mis needed to finish this quickly.
"Vandalism of School property...Sister Moltar is gonna be pissed."
As she reared back and swing the metal at him again, his claws made short work of the makeshift weapon, bisecting it neatly. The force of her swing altered, the Infected girl was thrown off balance. Misericorde turned and gracefully planted a foot in upon her posterior, propelling her head-first into the lockers. She screamed and spun, then was silenced as several web grenade pellets impacted upon her face and torso, sticky steely strands sealing her to the wall of lockers. She kicked her legs brutally, until a handful of tranq darts (he was amused, it took twelve) put her out.
He removed his mask, and stretched, his spine and ribs making a terrific racket as they slowly reassembled themselved fully. Michael pushed long fingers through his hair, then rubbed at his eyes with the back of a forearm. It came away wet.
The Longbow and Vanguard quarantine units found him kneeling next to a groggy Francis Cross, trying to remind her not to move. She wouldn't sit still, she was always so damn stubborn.
"She says she's thirsty," Michael said, reluctantly allowing the medics to attend to Franky.
If this was just the diversion, Misericorde was not sure he wanted to see the finale. Things were spiralling out of control fast, almost faster than he could run this time. He wondered if he could stay in front of the game again.
One of the medics asked him how much tranq he had pumped into the Infected girl, and he welcomed the distraction.
He was hurried. His chest felt tight, his heart beating heavily in his chest, a drum sending out signals of his anxiety. Michael remembered to unclench his jaw once his teeth began to hurt.
Still, it was best to move cautiously. Misericorde knew full well the intent of biological and chemical weapons; to delay and confuse the enemy. To allow your own forces a chance to mobilize. This incident was one of two things; a distraction, or a test. Whether it was aimed at SJS or a student in particular, he had not known before.
Now Franky was the only student not accounted for. Michael had little faith in coincidence. This was not the first time a school he attended had been targeted.
Mis cursed himself. He should have known better; he certainly had suspected something. Knew it was worse than he had surmised when he had finally found the canister, attached to the watering system below the athletic fields. Glacial Mass probably never realized that his accidental rupture of the system had inadvertently prevented a much larger disaster.
Franky had mentioned she had some studying to finish up this afternoon. Mis was close to the hallway junction near the classroom she usually secreted herself away in for privacy, when he heard someone crying out; a young female. The cool smooth surfaces of the hallway and lockers distorted her voice, but whoever this girl was, it wasn't Franky. He couldn't see her yet, but she was babbling, completely incoherent.
Flattening himself along the wall, Misericorde craned his head around the corner. His fingers tightened on the corner, heart sinking into his gut when he saw Francis crumpled unnaturally on the floor, unmoving. A girl with amazingly kempt hair stumbled blindly along the lockers, banging and shrieking, alternating between what sounded like Latin and animalistic shrieks that almost sounded like words.
Mis secreted himself behind the corner again, and exhaled slowly, relaxing. The infected girl was making too much noise for him to listen for the sounds of Franky's breathing...if indeed she was. If her head or neck was injured, he couldn't risk a high-velocity rescue either.
"No choice," he stated grimly. "Gonna have to." He was in the process of double-checking all his gear for the run, when Francis suddenly moaned in pain; she was apparently not only alive, but regaining conciousness.
The infected girl heard it too, and spun, fingers crabbing into a locker door, tearing it free from it's moorings, and stumbling towards the source of the sound. "STOP TALKING, STOP TALKING, STOP TALKING!" she shrieked, like broken record.
Misericorde rounded the corner at breakneck speed; if he could not remove Franky from danger, he would have to put himself in her place. The familiar stomach-sinking lurch of sudden acceleration to superhuman speed was replaced by the dull metallic sound and muted explosion ofpain as the locker door impacted his back and ribs, shattering bone and warping the door. Shrieking shrilly with rage, the Infected brought it up to swing again.
If she had been blind before, she was not now; her eyes obscured by the putrid amber glow of the Blight. The girl brought the door back and down again and again, hammering away at his body, nearly taking him to a knee with the sheer inhuman force of each blow. His body repaired most of the damage quickly, but he could endure this punishment forever.
Francis stirred below him, as he crouched above her. He threw an arm up to ward off the piece of warped metal that the Infected swung at his head, allowing it to rebound heavily from the denser bone structure there. Mis needed to finish this quickly.
"Vandalism of School property...Sister Moltar is gonna be pissed."
As she reared back and swing the metal at him again, his claws made short work of the makeshift weapon, bisecting it neatly. The force of her swing altered, the Infected girl was thrown off balance. Misericorde turned and gracefully planted a foot in upon her posterior, propelling her head-first into the lockers. She screamed and spun, then was silenced as several web grenade pellets impacted upon her face and torso, sticky steely strands sealing her to the wall of lockers. She kicked her legs brutally, until a handful of tranq darts (he was amused, it took twelve) put her out.
He removed his mask, and stretched, his spine and ribs making a terrific racket as they slowly reassembled themselved fully. Michael pushed long fingers through his hair, then rubbed at his eyes with the back of a forearm. It came away wet.
The Longbow and Vanguard quarantine units found him kneeling next to a groggy Francis Cross, trying to remind her not to move. She wouldn't sit still, she was always so damn stubborn.
"She says she's thirsty," Michael said, reluctantly allowing the medics to attend to Franky.
If this was just the diversion, Misericorde was not sure he wanted to see the finale. Things were spiralling out of control fast, almost faster than he could run this time. He wondered if he could stay in front of the game again.
One of the medics asked him how much tranq he had pumped into the Infected girl, and he welcomed the distraction.
Origin: 1200–50; ME misericorde lit., pity, mercy, an act of clemency
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
-
Misericorde
- Posts: 1921
- Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2006 9:31 pm
- Location: Saint Joseph's School
- Contact:
Michael indicated the location in which he had located the canister to the Vanguard Intel boys. They were in the tunnels beneath SJS, the ones that had been mapped out, anyway. Michael Corde, Coach Waters, and the Vanguard Intel team.
"I found it after Frosty...er...Glacial Mass accidentally froze the field. Timer on the canister was set for the big game against Korvus last Saturday," he stated, rubbing at his lower lip with one hand.
Something was nagging at him, at the back of his mind. Something about the whole damn deal was sour. He may be a kid with serious issues about social interaction, but he was far from stupid.
"Yeah, but how did you know it was right here, Mis?" One of the Intel techs asked, taking notes for his report.
Michael opened his mouth to speak, and finally realized what had been bothering him since the attack. He stood there silently for a moment, staring at the space where the container had been attached to the sprinkler system.
"Anybody home? The Vanguard agent asked, lightly poking Mis in the shoulder with his pencil.
"I knew where to look because...this is where I would have put it," he answered dully.
Silence answered Michael's last statement. No one said anything for awhile. "Does that mean something to you, Corde?" Coach Waters asked.
"Nah," Misericorde lied, pasting a smile onto his face. But it did. It most definitely did.
"I found it after Frosty...er...Glacial Mass accidentally froze the field. Timer on the canister was set for the big game against Korvus last Saturday," he stated, rubbing at his lower lip with one hand.
Something was nagging at him, at the back of his mind. Something about the whole damn deal was sour. He may be a kid with serious issues about social interaction, but he was far from stupid.
"Yeah, but how did you know it was right here, Mis?" One of the Intel techs asked, taking notes for his report.
Michael opened his mouth to speak, and finally realized what had been bothering him since the attack. He stood there silently for a moment, staring at the space where the container had been attached to the sprinkler system.
"Anybody home? The Vanguard agent asked, lightly poking Mis in the shoulder with his pencil.
"I knew where to look because...this is where I would have put it," he answered dully.
Silence answered Michael's last statement. No one said anything for awhile. "Does that mean something to you, Corde?" Coach Waters asked.
"Nah," Misericorde lied, pasting a smile onto his face. But it did. It most definitely did.
Origin: 1200–50; ME misericorde lit., pity, mercy, an act of clemency
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
-
Misericorde
- Posts: 1921
- Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2006 9:31 pm
- Location: Saint Joseph's School
- Contact:
"Where?" The kid growls. At first you think he was asking about the tip. Or maybe he was pissed when you unloaded that shotgun in his chest. Either way, he ain't happy. Turns out it was neither.
One minute you think your pizza was half an hour late and you get it for free. The next thing you know, turns out the delivery boy has knives in his knuckles and shrugs off two barrels of double-ought buckshot, center mass. Pizza on the table getting cold, and the kid is threatening to give you the closest shave of your life, or your money back.
"Where is the Mad Monk?"
The kid looks pissed, and rightly so, if he is who you think he is. The Red Hood, the last one, the one that broke. Problem with Knives is, even after they break? They're still sharp, and twice as dangerous as before.
You consider lying, telling the kid you don't know how to reach him. Feed him the party line about CODENAME: Mad Monk being dead. Maybe crack a Rasputin joke, prove you aren't just some dumb Lieutenant. Longbow must not have very good encryption on their Witness Protection Program. Rumor had it the Hood had turned Hero, disappeared off the map for awhile, resurfaced at some school for Freaks in Paragon.
Of course, the kid knew Mad Monk wasn't any more dead than he was. The kid was the one who had "killed" the Mad Monk. That was the deal Longbow made with the kid. Revenge all you want, but Mad Monk lives. Wyvern had chomped at the bit on that one, but a couple private entities with CIA backing threatened to pull some funding and the leash grew tight and that was that.
So, you turned your back on the Hood after that night. Night of the Long Knives (that was the kid's codename for that Op, when he turned his back on the Hood, like you had. Or said you had.) Scuttlebutt (a minor telepath and notorious fixer) mentioned the kid had killed the other Red Hoods. The remaining loyalists, five girls, cute as kittens, but with sharper claws.
You had been feeding information back to Hood's Malta backers almost since day one. Longbow was big, and big needed bureaucracy. Easy to plant moles in there, keep tabs on the metahuman threat from within their own ranks. Longbow did a lot of good work, Wyvern too. Easier to seed info about villainous threats to both organizations, let them do the dirty work. False information in the right ears could even take care of unwelcome eyes.
Unfortunately, high school had not dulled the kid's espionage training. So, here he was inside your crappy one-bedroom and so much for a quiet evening at home. Demanding to know where to find the Mad Monk. You try the mercy angle ("He'll kill me") and it doesn't work. Oops. Just confirmed you knew where he was.
"I'll kill you," the kid utters, and his eyes are hidden below the brim of his Cincinnati Reds baseball cap. You can't see his eyes, but his voice...well, let's just say something about it makes you want to let your bladder go.
You tell him you don't know where to find him, which is true. Then you tell him you know someone who does, and how to find them.
The kid leaves, tossing your shotgun back to you. Says something like "you'll probably need it," and then he's gone, like a ghost, or your mom's cat when she used to ask you to feed it.
One minute you think your pizza was half an hour late and you get it for free. The next thing you know, turns out the delivery boy has knives in his knuckles and shrugs off two barrels of double-ought buckshot, center mass. Pizza on the table getting cold, and the kid is threatening to give you the closest shave of your life, or your money back.
"Where is the Mad Monk?"
The kid looks pissed, and rightly so, if he is who you think he is. The Red Hood, the last one, the one that broke. Problem with Knives is, even after they break? They're still sharp, and twice as dangerous as before.
You consider lying, telling the kid you don't know how to reach him. Feed him the party line about CODENAME: Mad Monk being dead. Maybe crack a Rasputin joke, prove you aren't just some dumb Lieutenant. Longbow must not have very good encryption on their Witness Protection Program. Rumor had it the Hood had turned Hero, disappeared off the map for awhile, resurfaced at some school for Freaks in Paragon.
Of course, the kid knew Mad Monk wasn't any more dead than he was. The kid was the one who had "killed" the Mad Monk. That was the deal Longbow made with the kid. Revenge all you want, but Mad Monk lives. Wyvern had chomped at the bit on that one, but a couple private entities with CIA backing threatened to pull some funding and the leash grew tight and that was that.
So, you turned your back on the Hood after that night. Night of the Long Knives (that was the kid's codename for that Op, when he turned his back on the Hood, like you had. Or said you had.) Scuttlebutt (a minor telepath and notorious fixer) mentioned the kid had killed the other Red Hoods. The remaining loyalists, five girls, cute as kittens, but with sharper claws.
You had been feeding information back to Hood's Malta backers almost since day one. Longbow was big, and big needed bureaucracy. Easy to plant moles in there, keep tabs on the metahuman threat from within their own ranks. Longbow did a lot of good work, Wyvern too. Easier to seed info about villainous threats to both organizations, let them do the dirty work. False information in the right ears could even take care of unwelcome eyes.
Unfortunately, high school had not dulled the kid's espionage training. So, here he was inside your crappy one-bedroom and so much for a quiet evening at home. Demanding to know where to find the Mad Monk. You try the mercy angle ("He'll kill me") and it doesn't work. Oops. Just confirmed you knew where he was.
"I'll kill you," the kid utters, and his eyes are hidden below the brim of his Cincinnati Reds baseball cap. You can't see his eyes, but his voice...well, let's just say something about it makes you want to let your bladder go.
You tell him you don't know where to find him, which is true. Then you tell him you know someone who does, and how to find them.
The kid leaves, tossing your shotgun back to you. Says something like "you'll probably need it," and then he's gone, like a ghost, or your mom's cat when she used to ask you to feed it.
Origin: 1200–50; ME misericorde lit., pity, mercy, an act of clemency
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3
misericordia pity, equiv. to misericord- (s. of misericors) compassionate
(miseri-, s. of miserēre to pity + cord- s. of cor heart) + -ia -y 3