TheAbsurdist

Even in Spaaaaaaaaaaaace there is need for a Telepath, just ask Bester. Better yet, ask Errant!

Clarify he was knocked into her apartment.

Watching her as she leaned in, he didn't respond or flinch away. He could see she liked pushing buttons, liked playing, liked messing with him. Probably because he was baited by her frequently. "Alright, I understand." Casually snatching up his napkin, and putting it into his breast pocket of his jacket. "I felt a little insulted, only three paparazzi followed me today. See you there, I am certain you have my number so you will be able to contact me via a text when I get there." His smile broadened, and he took her hand and kissed the back of it gallantly, as he rose to his feet smoothly, playing the audience he knew he had. "Now if you will excuse me, I have an appointment elsewhere, I will take care of the cheque."

He looked at her for several moments after she said that, and he took the cup when it arrived, and offer Gail a small smile and an appreciative nod, and then he looked back to her. Not noticing that he was leeching off the heat from the coffee. when he spoke again, he was glossing over things, she knew he could talk, that he liked to talk, but this he was skipping over things, and was in no hurry to revisit what had happened. "I just got back a little over a month ago, and then there was the doctor visits and the psychiatrist visits and the therapists visits... and other things. I am not here to smooth things over and pretend it did not happen, I came to apologize. No expectations."

Initiative.

Setting the glass down and on the corner of his desk he folded his arms across his chest, his brows knitting together as he looked directly into Jube's eyes. "I will answer the religion part first, as I am not going to dignify the baggage part with a response. I am not particularly concerned about people liking me or disliking me because I happen to have a belief structure. I have no interest in proselytizing anyone. A bullet never stops to ask your creed or ideology before it hits you. Ms. van Cleef has gone on record as being a paranoid agnostic, and I have not asked Lady Winter's affiliation in that regard." He stopped for a moment, his gaze never moving, it was not an unnerving thing as he never tried to be intimidating, but the force of his personality was there, along with a flat look that acknowledge that he saw Jube playing a bit of a coy game. "Shall I paint this in starker terms for you, then, Jay? I think your math is wrong, and even if it is then I am willing to make that gamble, because you are motivated to make a change. If you were not so inclined, I doubt you would do anything but be cashing it in for an easy buck for those two years. I doubt you would be superheroing. Mr. Xavier, despite your presented front I know you actually care about the welfare of others. I am offering you the chance to do that on a greater scale."

OOC for this. So he is Mind Reading the whole of the area... sooo they are included it. (for the sake of bookkeeping we'll just do the people here, if we look at the range it is... um... scary?) DC17 Will

And he blinked. People crowding on him, or what he felt was crowding. Used to gulfs of space with minimal contact outside of his mother and Uncle. He could feel them, tremors on the web, and his eyes closed, sensitive even to the lights right now. He slowly edged away from them and back against the wall. Elias didn't immediately lash out, he wanted to, but recognized he was confused, but it was hard to sort it out now. Of course they came on him as he was tentatively reaching out with his mind, and so his scan swept over them. Trying to find hostile intent among them. Hands falling from his head, his eyes still closed, and he drew a deep breath to steady himself, despite the lancing pain behind his eyes.

viewtopic.php?f=31&t=6802 She is live.

October 23rd. 6:30 PM He staggered a couple steps, disorientated. There was no explanation, no words, and his mind was reeling. So used to the relative silence he was getting crushed under the oppressive tide of humanity on his head. He could not filter them all out, so sudden was the shock, that he was reeling and then falling to the rooftop as blissful darkness descended on him. She screamed. He screamed with her. Experiences shared when the veil of the self was as pierced as a pincushion. Shock and forgetting to breathe, then remembering. Waking as the dreams and fears and presence of them all around him was still surging. It hurt so much, and it wasn't all his. But it felt like his, and separating it out was not a skill he had worked out yet. Coming awake with a start, pain surging and throbbing he pushed himself to his feet, and looking down at himself, his mind acclimating and organizing and sorting. Staggering to the edge of the roof he looked down at Southside, seeing people in larger numbers than he had ever been used to. Drawing in a slow breath, and shuddered he closed his eyes and this time and slowly reopened his his mind, knowing the sea of humanity was there, and instead he touched the thoughts of those around him, carefully, making sure that he was just skimming the surface, trying to get his bearings as Uncle Corso hadn't given him much information before he went back for his mother.

Glancing to them and smiling reassuringly. "When they get into place. They are a little like spoiled kids, because they over inflate their personal importance, you will see them settle, and when the camera men are done then we do it. It is overstating the issue a bit, perhaps but that is the nature of these things. But I can nudge them along a little bit. Places everyone, I am going to, in the vernacular 'straight P.T. Barnum up in this joint.'" Flashing a wink to Catherine as he stepped from them to the podium, covering his mouth with a hand and coughing, just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up. Looking at the assorted members of the press, he swept that winning, red carpet smile over them all. His compatriots may not be comfortable with this kind of attention, this kind of scrutiny, but here, now, Asad was as powerful as when he fought supervillains. "We would like to get this under way, mostly because, as you can see, I made sure the event was catered and I would like everyone to be able to dig in while everything is fresh." And he shot the reporters a conspiratorial glance, chuckling softly. True to his word, they started to stop milling and focused on their jobs, because Amir al Misri was generally a good source for a story, even if it was just additional speculation. The make up of the reporters indicated that, with tabloid journalists, who no doubt took pictures of Asad giving Catherine a bit of extra attention.

OOC thread for this Starring Asad and Rabbit. Versus! This dude! Her too! Also this lady!

October 22th 3pm Asad had been having an interesting bit of time recent, what with some very odd, very random things seeming to pop up at unique intervals. It looked like was after him, and from what the mercs were saying someone wanted him, for whatever reason. They were not specific, and he really didn't know what to make of all of it. He coasted through midtown letting these distractions play out, trying to work out who could be throwing the cash to get heavies after him. It was not a pleasant thought to really ponder over your list of enemies. Unfortunately he didn't notice that plans had been set into place for this occasion. Otherwise he might have been ready, he might have dodge what came next, or at least be aware of it. Instead, he felt himself getting jerked about, and thrown in midair into a glowing disk, as he passed through it, his environment had changed, having been swooping over South Freemdom was now it South Freedom, and the momentum of the throw kept him going flying back right through the windows of the one of the upper-scale, stylish loft style apartments here. Landing somewhat heavily and then skidding on the floor with the momentum. After a frown, he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

"Oh... Ohh! Yes, I had heard about you." He didn't immediately judge, as for whatever involvement he had in religion, it was something that had come to him later in life, and he admittedly phased out a bit after the command to be righteous. "Mmm I see, I get why they put you to one corner, I am sorry for that." He didn't trump up his fame, either people knew him or didn't, he did not sweat over the matter, it was what it was. Of course, he didn't feel like he could question the Imam about this, he knew that she would likely unsettle people, still what he had heard of her was good, and it made him feel more than a little ashamed of his community.

A smile was still on his face as he looked at the cheetah, nodding, and then looking a little confused for a moment, and he lifted his arm to check the time. "Hmmm a little early for most Americans," he chuckled and shook his head a little bit. "Spend enough time in Europe and these sorts of things becomes a bit acceptable. How does a vodka tonic sound?" And he moved to the bar cabinet to the side, getting together two high ball glasses and mixing the drinks. "I thought about doing a slide presentation but that just came across as too... oddly prepared, even for me." Turning back to him he carried the glasses over and offered him one. "There are two explanations for all of this: one, I need a technological adviser who is more of a generalist. Two, I am trying to band together the public ID heroes who are are not possessing any affiliations. Simple proposal, you get a steady job, and a support, which can be useful." Turning a bit and still smiling a little as he looked out the windows of his office. "Now the question as to why you would do this, as you are making good money... Well I offer better than good money, I also has an extensive support system, and you get myself, plus my allies and other heroes I have banded together." He paused taking a sip of his drink then, and his smile became sly, before he turned back to Jube. "Of course, you have every to be suspicious that maybe, just maybe I am trying add a roster of superpowered people for my own interests. My retort to that is simple, I do not need you to keep my interests going, to keep my profits coming in. Will I use your abilities to be a benefit? Yes, I am not an idiot. And I can recognize the need for help. There is no grand mission statement with this, I was here when the Gorgon arrived, and I knew I could not sit up in my ivory tower if I have the ability to help, allowing my resources to be used to support other heroes is not just a wise decision it is the correct one."

He blinked a little bit, and looked to the Imam. "Lucy?" Then his brows knitted together, as the Imam gave him that odd aside. "Really, I cannot speak on people being weird. You should see the people I talk to on a day to day to basis. I will go help her, so I will, hopefully, stop making mistakes." Another smile on his face and he moved to where the truck was tugging at his gloves as he looked at the woman. "Hello, I am Amir, I am here to help you with unloading the truck. I think they sent me hear because I will do the least amount of harm here..." And he grinned at her as he made the self-deprecating remark. Clearly happy to take the air out of himself, while not drawing attention to who he was. Time and place for such things like big formal and flowery introductions, hefting bricks around was not that time.

"Ms. Silhouette, before you go... Nevermind, I am not inclined to argue against the prejudices of others. And not to worry, after this, I do intend to swan dive into my huge pool of money, and cuddle up with my lucky nickel." It was rare that it happened but she had gotten under his skin, and rather completely with that offhand comment, he shoved himself into the air and quickly accelerated away. This was not going to be a good working relationship, he knew that, she had all but spit into his outstretched hand. It was a rebuff he was used to, 'Give us your money for our needs, now go away you colossal twit.' It irked more than stung, but it couldn't be helped, his reputation was what it was, and people were more inclined to gloss over his successes as a hero and play it off that he had no hand in it, as that would go against the zeitgeist's view of him.

She offered him that ghost of a smile, and then pushed the close button on the elevator. The waiting area was exquisitely appointed, but understated, which was a surprising thing for one such as Asad. No rare and exotic wood for the receptionist desk or the door. And he heard something muffled, and then footsteps that grew louder, until the door was opened by Amir al Misri, a phone in one hand, the other leaving the door handle and waving him into the room, as he spoke rapidly in French. He looked slightly rumpled, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his forearms, his slacks black, to match the leather shoes and the suspenders he wore, absently brushing his fingers through his hair. The conversation went on for a few moments before he spoke, "Oui, oui, je dois y aller, j'ai une réunion importante. Toujours pour mardi prochain. Adieu mon ami." Hanging up, he put the phone into his pants pocket and managing a sheepish expression. "I am sorry Mr. Xavier, that was rude, I was not expecting that call, and I had to take it unfortunately. You would be amazed how delicate the egos of successful business men are, or I suppose you wouldn't be. Come, come... I am certain you have questions." And Amir flashed him such an easy, winning smile, it didn't even look practiced, and he ushered him into the well appointed office. There were many fine leather bound books, as well several screens scrolling through the global stock markets, and news channels. In fact that was the biggest thing to notice was just how many sources of information was in this office. The tablets, an actual desk computer, the wall mounted monitors, a couple televisions, the stacks of journals and newspapers. "May I get you an apertif Mr. Xavier? Wait... let me guess, you want to get down to business?" Holding a hand up, a forefinger extended up and a knowing smile on his face as he made his way to his desk. His English was flawless, but then Xavier would know that he was born in New York City, and not abroad. Facing the cheetah, he looked at him expectantly, waiting.

"One way of looking. But I do not believe in the existence of failure, just setbacks." A small smile, and his gaze was far off for a moment, and then a shake of his head as he dismissed whatever thoughts had intruded. "I can make that happen Silhouette, given a long enough timetable." Taking the card from her he tucked it into his pocket then. "No, I think I shall look into some things first before I have you come look around, and poke holes into the changes made. Rather break something before it becomes a fixture, and to see if someone tries to subvert those changes to their ends." He held out his hand back to her for take. "I will drop you off where you need to go, I think I am going have to introduce myself properly to the Fens."

Well, he is gonna stagger off, and I wonder what will happen when he gets exposure to someone bad. So all three could work. Just click-ity the link the sig to get an idea. While not overtly unfriendly, he is gonna be confused and frazzled. And when he senses the nearest baddie... PSYCHIC HAMMA!

Second character is live, would like an Intro thread, with him having appeared on a roof in FC. Would like a fellow Claremonter, or a veteran to shepherd him to the school.

He laughed a little then, and shook his head. "I am here for the day, I took the day off for this, besides I could use a little bit of humble pie, and I brought extra supplies in the back of the truck." A flash of his winning smile, and he moved, along with the Imam to place the special cornerstone down, and then managed to somehow drift off to the side, and let someone else take the spotlight as he set about working like this was a normal day to day thing. Except he wasn't too skilled, but fortunately, he was good natured, and took his lumps well enough, along with criticisms about how he was doing things. It helped that he could banter with them Arabic, those that knew it, and he was very big into the philanthropy with the local Muslim community, and just so gosh darn approachable.

GM The mercenary's eyes went as wide as saucers as she stared at the hammer, it's proximity to her face starting to turn the sheen of sweat on her brow to frost, her breath coming out in puffs. "I don't know who she is! Me... and my co-worker, someone put some money into our escrow accounts from a Cayman Island account, and arranged some dead-drop cellphones and told us the job. They even had someone to drop us in on you! We asked for a name, they called themself a huge fan of yours, and they just kind of rattled things off, they were nuts, okay! We didn't see a face, they used a voice modulator... please just, it wasn't worth the cash! I mean, I don't even know if my partner is okay... please... I gave you everything!" She was all but whimpering now.

Of course Asad found Jube's protests silently hilarious. But part of the reason was to get the idea of Jubatus as being associated with him, and him associated with Jubatus. Fortunately Lady Winter was able to handle herself, and frankly most of the press types tended to be distracted by her, just like they were by the cheetah. It was a carefully constructed image, that he seemingly chose these people based on the persona they presented, and not their abilities, that was entirely untrue, but such was what he wanted them to think. "Catherine, may I call you Catherine? Just breathe deep, and relax. I am sure you will be able to handle yourself well here, just remember to smile as today's event is a good one, your father is putting some roots in the United States. If you want, I will happily stumble over a few lines, while glancing at you, the press knows I get distracted by a lovely woman." His smile changed to be sly, before glancing to Jubatus. "Do not worry Jay, we are not going to ask you stand in front of everyone, well... actually there are a few reporters I am not fond of... can you smile at them maybe?" His eyes drifted over to pointedly to the journalists who had been more than a critical of Asad thus far. "Or... conversely if they come bother us after the announcement I would not protest if it got colder." Despite the idle implication of threatening reporters, his tone was light he was bantering, fully aware of the timing of the event, especially since some of the camera men were still positioning to take shots.

"That was considered, and we are looking into that. And I do have a top dollar security, what I have is a perspective different from that, and for potential gaps they wont think of, or I have not considered." A frown on his face as he leaned against the ledge, his hands pressed to it. "But, we will double check and look for things we might have missed." Nodding at her words and smiling softly. "And I had not considered blackmail. I will have to hire a cynical consultant. As an aside, I am sort of forming a team, mostly I am hiring public identity heroes. It is more a confederation, either way it would be a group you can call on, and I will need your continued support to help guide me in the money I spent in this neighborhood, you know this place better, and I would rather defer to your judgement then blunder along and make things worse."