Dariusprime
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Inside: Room 102 Nick listened quietly, taking deliberate efforts not to broadcast feelings or thoughts while she was talking. The reasoning for this tangent may or may not, probably may, have been for his benefit. Regardless he would have been a good and appreciative audience. The more he heard the more pained he felt, and the more difficult keeping the feeling to himself became. Nick didn't rate himself as the most emotionally self-aware person. Sure reading people came easily enough. Introspection was a different matter. Lulu's admission was heart breaking enough on its own. Circling her story back to his predicament hit right in the feels. Honestly, he didn't really know how to process something that raw and honest. A couple of minutes passed in silence. What started as ragged breaths relaxed and turned into a sigh. The sniffles were subsiding as well, and he silently thanked his luck that Claude had stepped out. He was still there, slumped against the wall, now cradling his guitar. I am so very, very happy that you are doing better. I hope your healing continues and these dark places are fewer and farther between. You have been nothing but kind to me, a stranger. I cannot thank you enough for your generosity. Silence followed. In Room 102, Nick blinked in surprise and rubbed his eyes.
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Probably to socialize you. You're obviously smart and capable, but you're still a kid. Those however were her private thoughts. Outwardly, an incredulous look crept onto her face. She blinked a few times at Selena and looked at Claude. He seemed enthusiastic enough, and she was curious to know details herself. "A succubus? Sexy-demoness succubus? Huge-tracts-of-land demon? Okay, I'm game too." She leaned back in her chair and waited. Before the story could commence, her phone buzzed and she checked it. "Would either you mind if my partner in crime dropped by?" "Thank you, Duncan. You're always good to me," she added as he delivered their goodies. She grinned at her cup of inky black coffee.
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Nick's expression softened at Summers use of sign language. His frown didn't turn upside down, but she couldn't miss that he appreciated her efforts. Forcing his hands to stop, several signs started only to be abandoned. Finally, he signed, "Thank you. Thank you. I hope you have a good night." With his message articulated, the snack table didn't stand a chance. The distance was closed in excellent time and the harvest began. If anything Nick looked annoyed at the small snack plates and grabbed two of them. The cookies were bypassed in favor of hors d'oeuvres. Quite a metabolism for his size. He didn't so much ignore the goings on around him as appear to. That was just about impossible given the nature of his powers. Yes, he was listening to the conversations and politics but politely playing dumb. One for his own sanity and two so no one would notice him listening. What the Atlanteans (really? Altlantis is real? Talk about mind blowing.) were saying dovetailed with what information he was able to find. Yes, he actually agreed with that General Dalekos fellow: this would be an interesting "show". One plate was heaping full when Octo-Ben made his entrance. The other however went flying. Bite-sized nibbles bounced all over. Nick stood ramrod still, looking mortified, but remembered himself when Ben greeted him. Sitting down the other plate, he signed a quick, "Hi, Ben," before cleaning up his mess. That was going to use a lot of napkins.
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Nicholas "Vox" Brown drifted in behind Heroditus, hands stuffed in his pockets. Whether deliberate stealth or not, the small teen had a way of blending into the crowd. Spotting authority figures ahead, Nick kept his eyes down and did his best to maneuver around them. That may have worked on the faculty, but the ever mysterious Summers turned out to be hawk-eyed. It was his own fault, really, for giving the snacks a hungry glance. Nick froze like a deer in the headlights and turned toward Summers. He looked about the same as usual. His clothes were clean if casual jeans and a band t-shirt. His hygiene looked presentable. The listless frown was normal now though. As were the dark circles around his eyes and the fidgeting. Swallowing slowly, the super-powered teen waved meekly and signed, "Good evening, Headmistress Summers." At least his sign language showed improvement. Although the semester was young, course work so far suggested final grades in the B range. Although not a super genius like some classmates, he was a very smart young man and obviously doing the bare minimum. His Squad work was likewise adequate if uninspired. According to Dr. Marquez, some improvement had been made, but opening up during therapy had proven difficult. He was, for now, maintaining. Seeing him at a voluntary event came as a good sign. He had a habit of hiding in his room or wandering less traveled areas on campus. In this case, an actual kick in the butt from Claude pushed him out the door. If he was honest, he was interested in meeting Aquaria and seeing what she had to say. In the moment, Nick shifted under Summers' scrutiny and wrung his hands.
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The telepathic connection was quiet. Finally, Sure, I guess. That sounds good. You pick up thought 'noise'? Seems to work judging from how level-headed you are. When is... A burst of static and a mental 'flash' drowned out the message. The next reply wasn't a message but a echo of his internal thoughts. What the heck was that? In the real world, Nick was laying on his back and rubbing the back of his head. The shout-shriek in the hallway made him jump and tumble backward with the amp. Doing everything in his power not to grumble, the young man slowly picked himself up. Sorry. Just a sec...someone shouted or something. He peeked out the door. Almost subconsciously, his mind generated a profile of the shout, deconstructed the layers of contemporary sounds, and triangulated the position based on sound diffusion and echoes. The data seeped through the link, and felt like some sort of computer program running. I think some guy was just pranked. They're upstairs so I can't understand them, but everything sounds fine. Nick picked up his guitar and sat down on the floor. He continued staring off in concentration. Nothing to apologize for. Going to a dark place. And I appreciate your confidence...advice... Warm guitar notes drifted in behind the thoughts. In the real world, he was sitting quietly. ...do you want to talk about it? The dark place?
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Mona nodded at Claude's explanation. It wasn't satisfying, but she wasn't exactly picking up menace so much as cagey-smartass vibes. But hey, she worked with the Espadas. Those were nothing new. The previous statement though, about the contents of the device, drew a slightly confused glance at Selena. A device was news to her let alone the mechanics thereof. "Do you want the truth or the bold-faced lie?" answered Mona as she shot a glance to Selena. "My take: it's a high school for metahumans. Lots of powerful players in the background, and it acts as a feeder to other gigs. Think of it as superhero ivy league. So along with normal classwork, you'll have power training, team building, and enough drama to last you a lifetime. Mind you this is from an outsider's perspective." She shot Selena another glance. "Am I close?" As she spoke, Mona pulled out her phone, looked at it for a moment, and put it away. Looked like it sent a text, although she didn't appear to type anything. "Excuse me. I may have to use the phone a moment." Indeed she did send a text: To: Snugglypuff (Viktor Archeville) Sweetie, what can you build with psitanium, daka crystals, eridium (iridium?), gromril, and quintessence? Super Science curiosity. Thanks!
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Nick is game for several reasons.
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Mona returned the grin and set aside the selected pattern. "Of course, I'll make the arrangements. Assuming my information is still current. I may have to check with the Interceptors." A sly smile inched its way across her face at the mention of Oktoberfest. She tried hiding it by continuing to sort patterns. "That sounds wonderful! Now that is a case for waiting. I'll find that lovely dirndl dress Carrie made for me. You remember? I wore it to Oktoberfest with you." Left unspoken was the little fact that Mona had attended Oktoberfest most years since 2010. Ostensibly, she was mastering her love's native language via cultural immersion. The most famous photograph of her attendance implied she was taking her studying quite seriously. She was wearing the aforementioned dress and juggling three hogsheads of beer. Which according to the internet caption, she later consumed all by herself. Now whether Viktor knew that or not was left to the imagination. Penny meowed quietly at the eye contact and stretched long and thin. Once situated she meowed again that he may continue. Mona turned to Viktor and smiled, "I'm so happy you want to attend again. You've come so very far. This will be like a new first visit for us!" "Hmm...," she fell silent for a moment, "No, nothing really that big. I'm sure something will come to me though. Anything major on your end?"
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Room 102, Kord Dorms Nick leaned forward on his guitar and nodded to no one. An unfocused gaze fell on the floor. When Lulu didn't continue, Nick waited politely until the silence became awkward, and creeping anxiety began trickling through the connection. After all this was a new experience for him, and he really didn't have a filter so to speak. Finally, he thought, and broadcast by accident, that maybe answering her question would put her at ease. She was kind enough to volunteer the information after all. Sounds, electromagnetic radiation, things that don't make sense. If it's a wave, particle, or something in between, I hear them. All the time... But...yeah...my powers revolve around sound. The things I hear...they're translated, amplified, no one is sure yet...into destructive things when I speak. He hesitated, then continued. My powers kicked in a few months ago. I destroyed an area bigger than this campus. So I can't talk. I'd...probably bring down the building if I screamed. I don't know if I have much control to learn. A sense of relief tinged the words, at being able to talk to someone.
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The young man from Iowa slumped limply on top of his amplifier. The battered blue-and-white guitar sat across his lap, and he slowly ran his fingers along the strings. The motion was rhythmic and judging from Claude's data catalog, a soothing mechanism to stave off a full-blown panic attack. Fortunately, his breathing and heart rate both looked to be dropping. Nick loathed being like this. Keeping himself quiet, managing his 'sensory inputs', navigating the school, and dealing with new people had been too much. To his Midwestern mindset, you accepted problems and dealt with them. This was needless stress and self-pity. He wondered what he could possibly do to manage. To top it off, he felt rude for running off. They were his future classmates. Maybe they could use his help. He knew one did. Ben's music snapping off brought Nick back to reality. The volume had bothered him, yes, but he'd also half-consciously been analyzing and appreciating the music. The speaker brand he couldn't pick out yet, but they were quite good, and the syncing with the smartwatch and phone were nice touches. Likely a very techie guy that one, and one he'd like to meet. Several deep breaths steeled him for another trip outside. Maybe even introduce himself to the group. With all the background chatter in his head, he almost missed Lulu's telepathic message. Which meant the initial response Lulu received was a riot of images and sounds pulled from nearby radio and television sources. The synesthesia lasted only a second or two before Nick pushed the Cacophony into the background. In the real world, he was still and looking around the room blankly. Uh, hi, Lulu. Yeah, you sound different, came Nick's mental whisper. A background static hiss was noticeable, and for a moment he broadcasted a comparison of Lulu's real and mental voice, complete with graphs. Sorry. I kind of automatically quantify and analyze sounds. Oh, yes, I found my room, thanks. This feels so weird, like I'm thinking to myself. Sorry, didn't mean to imply you or your powers are weird. Sorry. So...yeah...questions. Is...is this sort of the normal around here? Worry permeated the question.
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Nick returned Leroy's greeting with a timid wave of his own. He then redistributed the weight of his cargo and took one last look around. Normally, he'd be transfixed by the variety of people. Especially this many metahumans. The confrontation with Ashley, however, took a lot out of him. Shoulders still slumped, Nick looked at that fine line between anxiety and exhaustion. Nodding to Leroy and Heroditus as they passed, the small teen followed them inside and looked around. Room 102 shouldn't be difficult to find. He pinched his eyes closed for a moment. The Cacophony of electromagnetic and acoustic signals, cellphones to music to radioactive decay, receded into the background. Like a form of tinnitus, the Cacophony was ever present. It could be ignored when he really needed to concentrate. With a clearer head, he checked for signage and faced the appropriate hallway. Only to see the tentacled teen and what appeared to be an extended family. Thankfully, Judy and Ashley were just passing through. Nick stopped in his tracks. Again the amplifier played the role of shield as he attempted to disappear in plain sight. Intellectually, he knew his current moods were volatile. That's why he had ongoing therapy and training. Yet he couldn't explain why he was wracked with near panic. The family and, he assumed, Claremont student did factor somehow. With his head down, the short kid in the cowboy hat walked stiffly into the hallway. The shuffle was a poor attempt at stealth at best. His pace quickened as he approached 102. Small favor at least his room was before the crowd. Fate is fickle however. The amp thumped against the door frame as the weight finally got to him. He fumbled for the key and dropped it. A long sigh.
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The temperature wasn't what made Nick sweat bullets. He was so sure there would be fight. His muscles were winding up. Then Lulu intervened and Ashley reversed gears as quickly as she started. The whole thing only took a few seconds, but in that time Nick's face furrowed in surprise. This wasn't a normal situation. Was this some sort of tough guy, er, gal, act? What exactly was her relationship with Judy to elicit such a reaction? Those questions though were nothing compared to the initial huh? Nick looked at Claude, then back to the trio of Judy, Ashley, and Leroy. Then to Lulu. Once the yelling really started, he moved from confused to complete fish-out-of-water. As if that wasn't his default state that is. So he just watched Judy storm passed. Electromagnetic senses were brought forward from the Cacophony and he listened to her for signs of that strange energy. Then he focused on Ashley, ignoring the subtle bio-electromagnetic aura for anything of interest. For the first time since he arrived, a genuine smile graced his lips for a second or two. Now having had a moment to center himself, Nick turned back to the group. Given the excitement, he had more-or-less been ignored by Adam and the others. But he didn't seem to mind. Being invisible had its advantages. Claude caught his attention as he was heading for the door. He flinched before facing the Bostonian. His sullen demeanor soften a bit, and shifting the goods to his off hand, he returned the fist bump.
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Nick backed away at Ashley's approach. Oh yes, he looked frightened and angled his cargo as a shield. Not once did he take his sight off her. That the teen was on guard was a safe bet. A swirl of emotions played across his face. Fear was the obvious, but more so he was upset. Not angry so much as a mix of disappointment and confusion. He'd officially been at the school less than, what, 30 minutes, and already the illusion of Claremont as a safe place was gone. It was just a preppy high school for kids with powers. He wanted to go home, and that thought was punctuated by a silent sigh. What to do then? The safe thing would be to stay out of the confrontation. Claude's joke was sorta out of line, but the response felt disproportionate. Which took Nick's thinking down familiar and unpleasant roads. The memories galvanized him. If he had to choose, he'd pick the mouthy kid over some leather-clad bully. His shoulders slumping, as if he knew this was a bad idea, Nick sidled up beside Claude as the other teen spoke. A tightly-wound ball of nerves, yes, and trembling, but he stood his ground. His stare down was determined if nothing else.
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Nick stopped dead in his tracks. The music had drawn his attention, but no sooner had his triangulation started then another source caught his attention. He reversed gears and walked outside backwards. Thankfully, the crowd outside was good company to blend with. Much like Micah, he stood stock still, amp and guitar in his arms. His eyes though darted about to gauge the reaction of the bystanders. A quick analysis of Judy's vocal pattern suggested she was, in technical terms, royally pissed. The glowing eyes though...now those were interesting. In the bright morning light, the glow was initially missed, but its sound was like chiming bells. Analyzing that energy threw up strange readings. Nick visibly cringed. I wonder what her powers are... So focused was he on the energy signature and the couple's conversation that he missed Claude's opening. What he did hear though was enough for him to ever so calmly take two steps away from the Bostonian. Why? Death Rays. Metahumans favored eye beams. Her eyes were glowing. Simple math. Did he feel bad for rubbernecking? Nah, not really. He wanted to see if the male's courtship display would appease the female's ferocity.
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Claremont Academy - The Play's The Thing
Dariusprime replied to Avenger Assembled's topic in Archives
Nick is all about the sound and lighting. Both assembling and running the show. -
Nick joined Adam at blinking at the tentacled boy. He waved weakly before turning back to the group. He'd been listening. In fact that seemed to be a quickly noticeable habit. No matter how zoned off he seemed, he was still aware of them. Analyzing. Up he looked at Adam, the over one foot height difference rather striking. He offered him the same handshake offered the others. But he didn't bother looking disappointed. Whatever enthusiasm he exhibited earlier was gone by the time he faced them. His face was the same uncomfortable neutral from which he started. That wasn't anyone's fault really. His initial surprise had been as much from Lulu coming up beside him as anything else. Yes, a part of him was flustered at talking with a pretty girl. Pretty standard geeky teenager response, he mused, if a bit embarrassing. Moreover though, she seemed like a genuinely kind person, and Nick wanted friends like that. Perhaps in time. Breaking off his musings, Nick nodded to Adam and Claude's offers of assistance. Without fanfare, he hefted up the guitar and amplifier and shuffled inside. All that remained were a large plastic tub and a backpack.
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ic Scene: Fulcrum and Miracle Girl (IC)
Dariusprime replied to Avenger Assembled's topic in Sol System
Fulcrum couldn't help but laugh at the scene. It was a boisterous, good-natured laugh that racked her entire body. Very seldom did Fulcrum find someone who could even lift her, let alone spin her around. She was over 700 lbs after all. Once the initial shock passed, the giantess engulfed Casey in a Mona-sized bear hug as the two spun. "Congratulations, Miracle Girl! You've earned it!" and she meant every word, topped with a toothy smile. Beyond that she just laughed along with Casey's refrain. Privately, Fulcrum still felt some doubts. While she'd never met Bolt, his performance during the interview seemed a bit off. Which raised alarm bells to her, but she had no idea how the League would approach something like this. Maybe he really didn't want to be here, this was part of the test, or he was pushed into service for some reason. Which meant her typical tact would likely be her first choice. In time their revelry spun down, pun intended, and the two separated. Fulcrum gave a Miracle Girl another quick shoulder hug. Landing she shook Bolt's hand, or at least offered a handshake if he'd given up waiting. "Aw, no more? I could go on for hours." She chuckled again and grinned to Miracle Girl. Her tone still light, she added, "Seriously though, Bolt, would you level with us please? This whole exercise feels odd to me. What was the point of this interview?" -
Oh, that's tough. All three would sound good to Nick too. I would say order of preference would be: Fight Club, Birdwatching, and Guest Lecturer.
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Truth be known, Nick had a dossier on his roommate as well. Although the term was a bit generous. Ms. Summers had been cagey about the particulars. Primarily, it expounded on Claude having "special circumstances", and directed Nick to communicate with him sooner rather than later. For an inquisitive soul, that wasn't much to go on. Still if he had learned one thing about Claremont, the place was full of secrets. More concretely, Claude knew ASL. Which probably had something to do with the pairing. Thus his face lit up at the older teenager's arrival. He waved to Claude before turning to Lulu. He gave a thumbs up to her first question and shrugged at the second. As she started her speech, his eyes drifted around the area. He seemed to be listening, judging from his posture and face further relaxing. He even nodded at a couple of people in passing, and waved at the trio chatting by the bench. The efforts looked a little wooden, but probably meant he was giving it the old college try. Lulu's change of tone drew his attention. The expression on his face was priceless: a mix of slack-jawed confusion and awe. He mouthed the word 'telepath'. Which elicited a noticeable tremor through the nearby window glass and ripples through the water cups. His mouth snapped shut, and he looked around with wide eyes. With no obvious damage, he turned to his cart and dug through a backpack. Tablet and stylus in hand, he wrote out, "Good to meet you, Lulu, Claude. I am willing if you would like to please, thanks," and turned the screen toward them. A handshake was offered to Lulu and Claude in turn. About halfway through shaking Claude's hand, his eyes drifted toward the dorm doors and the sound of dance music.
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Nick jumped at Lulu's introduction and shrank away. After a moment's hesitation, he seemed to relax a bit and returned the wave. The accompanying small smile didn't reach his eyes. He didn't reply, opening his mouth only to close it with a clack of teeth. So he waited. Fidgeting with his cup, he pointed to his name on the clipboard as she passed it. Nicholas E. Brown, 16, Junior; Assigned roommate: Claude Jergens, Kord Room 210; Notes: American Sign Language. His face softened at reading, upside down even, the entry. After looking down in thought, he sat down his cup and gestured, "Cannot talk." His ASL technique was awkward and slow, but intelligible to those familiar. A shrug followed before he retrieved his cup.
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Vox A small teenager emerged from the crowd. He was so short comparably that he seemed to appear out of nowhere. Unlike those alongside him, he was alone, and shuffled long with his head down. Trailing between him was a half-loaded cart with an electric guitar on top. Along with cargo shorts and once-white sneakers, the young man was wearing bulky headphones and a straw cowboy hat. A Neurosis t-shirt looked like the only relatively new item. He stopped at the bifurcation of the sidewalk and gazed at each dorm in turn. Then he looked at an open binder in one hand. Then back up at the buildings. After a minute or so, he approached one of the dorms. Up close his eyes were darkly circled, and his round baby face was creased with worry. He flinched at every loud noise. For that matter, anytime someone used an electronic device. He just sort of lingered there near the entrance. His eyes darted around, taking in the people and surroundings. He avoided eye contact. Calling his posture stiff or withdrawn was an understatement. Perhaps realizing his position, he made way for others and ended up by the water cooler. His mood brightened as he snagged a cup of ice water.
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Mona leaned back and raised an eyebrow as Claude spoke. Her eyes were watching him, ignoring the hand movement, and focusing on his overall body language. A spectrum of skepticism, disbelief, and curiosity crossed her features. When he finished, the paragon nodded and made a waving gesture over the table. "Fair enough, Claude. Fair enough. I give you the benefit of the doubt." She glanced at Selena, then back. "Are these 'things' dangerous or potentially so?" The giantess sounded all the willing to let the time traveler keep his secrets. Though judging from her expression, she was still curious. Particularly from a safety perspective. She turned to the magnetokinetic, "What do you think, Selena?"
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In celebration of new school year, I'm setting up an open thread for students and visitors. The move-in date is Wednesday, August 28th. The goal is a straightforward meet-and-greet thread. Feel free to drop by! I will be frank that my information on our version of Claremont is pretty basic. I plan to keep the opener fairly general and go from there. Please let me know of any changes needed, and feel free to add your own touches! Gentlebeings, behold!
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Claremont Academy 10:30 am, August 28th, 2019 Weather: Sunny, 77 F, Wind E 15-20 mph The visitor's parking lot was packed. A sea of people bustled amidst vehicles and toward open, shining gates. Belongings, often with grunts of effort, were loaded onto carts. Laughter echoed from caravans trickling through the main entrance and the Quad. Hand-drawn signs pointed the way, each adorned with student messages. In time, the shadows of the twin dormitories provided respite to travelers. Staff and peer counselors dotted the trail, assisting overwhelmed students on their journey. Vice-Principal Dugan was the first new face to arrivals. Her table near the gates kicked off the journey. Mr. Marquez wheeled the circuit and kept visitors on course. Mr Kuzkin and Ms. Harcourt paced about the Kord and Carter dorms, respectively. Their task, to organize the move-in, appeared to have some success. At the very least, weary travelers could partake of cold refreshments and treats outside the main doors. While outside was organized chaos, the dorm halls were like herding cats. A din permeated the air. Dozens of students, parents, and guardians wandered in search of rooms. Boxes and bags transformed the hallways into obstacle courses. The excitement of new memories and old friends contrasted with worried hugs and goodbyes. If nothing else, the dorms were places of beginnings and endings. What are you doing this beautiful day? Moving into the dorm? Helping new students?
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NEW STUDENT Name: Nicholas Brown Codename: Vox Year: Junior Pronouns: He/his Prospective Roommate: Claude Jergens aka Gnomon Goal: Nick isn't thinking very far ahead right now. If he had his druthers, he'd master his powers so he could talk again and possibly move home. Favourite YA Fiction Novel: Animal Farm by George Orwell. For a sheltered Midwestern kid, reading Animal Farm was a real awakening. He credits it with sending him down the rabbit hole of social consciousness.