Russoboo

Darren gave Subito a sidelong glance, but said nothing to him. He focused on Grace's story instead, tracing out letters like a machine and flipping pages without a sound. When she paused, he looked at her until she continued. At the end, Darren touched his lips and stifled a giggle. "Man-Scorpion? That's getting a Google." He double-tapped his pen for punctuation and gave Subito another brief look. "Let's see...how about, what do you consider your greatest accomplishment in costume? And why did you decide to retire?"

“Master Stelzer!†Darren Stelzer, otherwise known as the minor league superhero Adamas, stopped mid-stride and turned his head. He lifted a hand to run his hair back over his ear, then curled his fingers around one arm of his sunglasses and pulled them away from his face in a smooth motion. Over there, across the sparkling lobby of the hotel, a man behind the reception counter was waving at him. A few of the guests looked up at him, whispered under their breaths and behind their hands, but he just strode over to the counter. He set his elbows on it and leaned forward. “Yes, Harry?†He didn't need to read the nametag, since a year of living out of the hotel had gotten him well-acquainted with all the permanent staff. Instead, Darren propped his head up with one hand and held the other open, index and middle fingers apart. “Mail? And you know you don't, like, have to call me master. I'm not my father.†“It's part of the job.†Harry smiled and fished for something under the desk. He held out a purple envelope, sized for a card, and let Darren snatch it away. “Well, there's the usual, too, this just seemed-†“Actually important? You know what to do, Harry, just throw the junk in the furnace and, like, leave the fan stuff for the end of the week and I'll pick it up.†Darren looked over the front of the envelope; it was addressed to Darren Stelzer / Adamas on a printed label. When he turned it over in his hands, he let out a quiet gasp. The envelope was sealed with candy apple red wax pressed with the imprint of a pair of lips. “This is...I'm not really sure what this is. Thanks, Harry.†“Part of the job.†The receptionist was already leaving, sliding down to the other end of the counter to take care of booking. Darren made it all the way to the top floor with the envelope still intact, just staring down at it and listening to the elevator hum beneath the dull music. As soon as he stepped out on his floor, he slid his school bag off his shoulder and kicked it away, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a single folded sheet of paper buried under a veritable cloud of sharp perfume: jasmine and citrus. He wiped a tear from his eye as he fumbled the letter open with one hand. As he read it, he froze, his whole body going rigid.

Gather Information (1d20+9=22) Here we go, a Gather Information check to figure out what's happening on campus.

Darren clicked his tongue and grimaced as he rose up from where he'd been kneeling. The building around him was perfect crystal, though he had kept it all a bit cloudy. High clarity diamonds didn't make walking around too easy and the last thing he wanted at the moment was to go through a hall of mirrors. He stepped into what remained of the office and waved his hand through the smoke. Darren stood away from the green flames and watched them with a frown. "I'm running at max holding the building together at the moment, so this is as contained as you're getting." He held out his hands and looked down into the light that radiated out of them - it seemed a lot brighter than normal. "And I'm glad you caught on. Just get up here and put this out."

"Ugh, stop yelling at me, I'm fine." Darren huffed and a little cloud of plaster escaped his lungs. He brushed bits of wood off his shoulder and out of his cape, but a quick once over proved that he really was fine. "Takes a little more than high explosives to kill me. Tsunami needs to come up here and put this out, though. In the meantime..." He knelt and placed his hands against what remained of the hallway floor. Smoke had started to crowd around him, but as long as he remained transformed, he didn't need to worry about breathing. Darren concentrated and his hands and eyes began to glow. The office building was falling apart, but it was still huge, a lot bigger than the things he normally transformed. But if he couldn't stop Young Freedom from leaving, and he was fairly certain that was a lost cause, then he could at least keep the building from collapsing. In a rush, energy started to pour out of him, the hallway warping into foggy white crystal that spread faster than the flames. Darren could feel it draining him. "I can try to hold it together, but, like, I'm not making promises about how long."

Here's that save for me: Tou vs Explosion DC25 (1d20+12=27) Power Stunt: Transform 10 (Inanimate to diamond; Flaws: Range [Touch]; PFs: Progression 10 [2.5 million lbs]) This should be sufficiently to completely transform the building into diamond.

"Conflict is fine. Any relationship worth having has conflict. Doesn't easy bore you?" Darren grinned down at Elias. He put his foot on the seat he'd been using and leaned on his knee. "Besides, if you're going to change the questions, I'll just change the answers. No hate, just an equal and opposite reaction." Darren jerked his thumb towards the textbook. "I guess that would have sounded cooler if you were, like, actually studying physics instead of chem, huh? Whatever." He tipped his head up at a clock on the far wall. "I gotta run, but I guess, like, we can hang out later. You do that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Darren floated away from Giang, still fully crystalized. He supposed they were still technically on the best case scenario, since no one, besides Summers, had died yet. It wasn't a great deal of comfort, but he held onto it as he sped up an elevator shaft connecting the vault level to the administrative building. When he landed on level of Summers' office, he wedged the doors open and hovered on through. He rapped his knuckles against Summer's door. "Hello? If any of you Young Justice guys are still conscious, I'm going to have to ask you to, like, stand down. Violence is not the answer, but it's always a pretty good substitute, you know?"

Darren sat, quiet, while he transcribed Grace's answers into his notebook. His handwriting was fine and fluid, his letters tall and narrow; his time in private schools had certainly left a mark. He dotted one more eye and placed a period, then set his pen down diagonally across the page and moved to lift his cup to his lips. After a drink, he replied "The preliminaries, yes, thank you. The Hand of Apep, snake-men, it all sounds, well, pretty incredible. I guess that kind of thing is a little more common when you're dealing with magic, though." He tapped his fingers against the notepad. "This isn't, like, strictly on our recommended questions list, but it's something I'm curious about, so please excuse me. Why come back to Freedom? I mean...Egyptian cult of Egyptian monsters after an Egyptian artifact? Did you just defeat the Hand there or force them to disband?"

Darren tilted his head and stretched his neck until he was looking down at Elias like an insect. He tried his best at impassive, but it came out as harsh. "Artless? Whatever. Just means you know it's a problem, but you either can't or won't fix it. Or even fake it." He clicked his tongue behind his teeth and grimaced. "It's been a long time since someone's tried to call me out with any kind of, like, real argument, maybe I'm getting upset over nothing." Darren twisted the toe of his shoe against the floor. "And even if you're weird and combative and you've got a messed up past, I can't, like, say that I don't still think you're interesting. But...that's just me being selfish, since you haven't told me what you want. Not really." He scratched his ear. "So, Elias, philosophies aside, would you want to? Like, do the friend thing with me?"

"Ooh, a money joke, how clever." Darren didn't flinch when Elias leaned over to him, but his nostrils flared regardless. The idea that a psychic might try to play headgames neither surprised nor intimidated him. Well, he thought, maybe it intimidated him a little, but he had no intention of admitting it. "You know how I said I don't like dealing in absolutes? It's cause of stuff like this. Once you start trying to argue philosophy or ideology or ethics, blanket statements just don't work well. There are such things as fringe cases and extenuating circumstances. Basically, I can't say that you're wrong, but I can't say you're right. But we could talk circles all day." He took a slow breath and let his shoulders fall back down. "I like my image. I like being able to control my image. There aren't a lot of aspects of my life over which I actually have control." Darren flashed Elias some teeth in a smile. "I suspect you may understand feeling like that. Or maybe not. I'm not, like, psychic or anything. But, to be honest, I'm not really interested in a 'facts or feelings' debate with you or anyone else." He stood up and made sure his bag was looped over his shoulder. Darren shrugged. "You're only as free as you think you are. Just another trick of perception."

Darren stayed quiet. His jaw tightened, his teeth threatened to grind, and his eyes narrowed just enough to be a glare. Elias' own eyes were closed, so there was hope that the telepath couldn't notice, but Darren sort of wished he would anyway. Usually, a bit of bluster and a verbal sidestep was enough to dodge any question thrown Darren's way - he didn't know whether to be angry or impressed. He dragged a finger down his lip and tapped his chin. "Because." His expression relaxed and neutralized until a little smile broke across his face. "Just because. Do you want me to feed you some, like psychoanalysis here? How about 'it's mine'. That's more than enough reason to care about it." He splayed one hand over the table top and drummed his fingers. "It'd be a bad idea not to think it's important. Sometimes perception is more important that reality."

Adamas Like Acids and Bases (17) Ace in the Hole (3) Bright Days Gone By (12) War of the Worlds (8) Disco Inferno (3) Cut, Color, Clarity, and Crime (3) Best Frenemies (11) HellQ and Reputation Block

"Different rules is cheating." Darren closed his eyes a moment and smiled. "But...it's the kind of cheating I can appreciate." He wagged a finger in Elias' direction. "You're making me reconsider flirting with you, better watch it." Darren spread his fingers and placed the tips against his chest, over his heart. "Everyone has an image, mine just happens to be a bit more visible. I'm kind of a celebrity." He dropped his hand, looked about the cafeteria, and shrugged with a smirk. "Admittedly, not much of one here, specifically, but enough to worry about the world outside campus or Freedom. And you're hardly compromising anything, Elias, jeez, you're not, like, a leper or anything. Give yourself some credit." Darren beamed, excitement as clear as Elias' own. "That's kind of hard question to answer, though, it's more like it depends on the exact situation. I wouldn't, like, do something dangerous or immoral just to protect my follower count, I'm not that shallow." "But, it's like, people who see me, but don't really know me, they don't let me get mopey. They see this drop dead gorgeous rich kid with visually appealing powers, think about how easy that kind of life must be, and they convince themselves that I am beneath sympathy. If I were to look like I needed something, with everything I already have, well..." Darren rolled his eyes. "It's easier to be an object of envy than one of contempt. I'd rather play the part I was born into, most of the time."

"I'm not-" The blush that had been breaking over Darren's face receded and vanished. He crossed his arms and puffed up a little. "I'm not flippant, okay? I just, like, I don't have the benefit of being able to act serious all the time. I'm not allowed to mope, not out here where people can see it, anyway." He deflated. "I have an image to protect. But I'm not flippant. Not really." Darren sighed, quiet, and went back to normal breathing. "I'd never haul off and punch a guy I just met, particularly when I'm the one who started talking to him. That'd be, like, way rude, come on." He scratched between his lower lip and his chin, his mouth twitched to resist a smile. "If it makes you feel better, I totally roll my eyes at everyone, all the time, for everything, so don't feel too self-conscious about it. And if people skills interest you, well, I'd say there aren't too many people here who could teach you better than I can. This particular conversation maybe isn't a good example, but, like, I know social stuff. I can play the game, which is kind of a bad metaphor for being so accurate."

"Did he really say that? Poetry and everything?" Darren snorted, but regained his composure as the door opened. Subito handled introductions, but Darren added his own "Hello, nice to meet you, ma'am." He followed Subito and their host into the house while he tried to take everything in. The Egyptian paintings made sense; Grace Sobczak had been Sekhem, after all, though Darren noticed the rod hanging on the wall and thought she probably still could be Sekhem if she wanted or needed to. He sat in one of the chairs left for the boys and unstrapped his bag so it sat comfortable next to him. When he spotted the tea set, Darren let out a low "Oooh, yes, perfect." He pawed through the various teas before dropping a bag of Darjeeling into a cup and pouring himself some hot water. "Thank you, Mrs. Sobczak, getting a good cup of tea can be, like, a complete chore at Claremont." With his tea cooling to a manageable temperature, Darren retrieved a small notebook and a ballpoint pen from his bag. He opened the pad up to a blank page, jotted down the time and ate, then held his pen at the ready. "I guess, like, our first question should be who are you and how did you get into the super heroics thing? Like, where did the sceptre come from and how did it come to you?"

"Visually appealing?" Darren laughed, a real laugh that had his eyes scrunched shut and a hand across his stomach. After a moment, he pulled himself back, though a few more low giggles escaped him. "You could say that, I guess. I can do some pretty things with them, but, like, it's hard to get people to take me seriously. Not very intimidating or whatever." He rolled his hands in the air and shrugged. Darren propped his chin up in a palm and smiled. "Ah, yes, incidents and disciplinary action. Always a lot of fun, though I don't really know how Claremont does that stuff. I've been trying to behave since I transferred." He raised an eyebrow at Elias' trailing off. "Elias, this isn't flirting, this is me being friendly. Granted, maybe my friendliness looks like other people's flirting, but it's not like I'm trying to seduce you in the cafeteria. I can try to tone it down if you'd like, but I'm try not to make promises either." Darren worried his lip. "As for what I want, that's maybe sort of complicated, but I'm going to explain it and hope it doesn't blow up too badly." He drew in a deep breath that swelled up in his chest, then exhaled. "I don't really, like, have anyone here, besides the sister, I mean. So when I saw someone sitting here alone, I thought, like, that I could use them for some company. And to be honest, I'm not exactly the easiest person to get along with either, so maybe there's some subconscious ego resonance going on here, I don't know." Darren stopped and looked down at the table; a hint of color spread over his cheeks and he huffed. "I feel like I'm eight years old right now, but I'd just like to be friends. With you, obviously. Maybe this was a bad idea."

Darren didn't move, except to roll his eyes just slightly at Crow's tone. He had changed out of his civilian clothes into a spare costume he kept on campus precisely in case of these inevitable disasters. His skin was transformed into cloudy blue crystal, which cast the lights of the Vault into a pool around his fuzzy shadow. Darren held his jaw set and his arms crossed even as he watched the camera feed. Summers was dead, probably, and it was up to him and two strangers to take down Young Freedom. "This is going to suck. Like, a lot." Darren snapped his fingers and a white crystal grew in the open air. It stayed low and flat, extended out to roughly the size of a snowboard, and then floated towards the ground, where it stayed two inches off the floor. He stepped onto the board and rubbed the back of his neck. Darren put his hand on the breaker and flipped it, cutting power to the building. "Time to knock out Young Freedom."

"Some or all of Young Freedom? Seriously?" Darren's face scrunched up, somewhere between disbelief and anger. He pinched the bridge of his nose and hummed low in his throat, but otherwise stayed quiet. Instead, he drained the rest of his coffee and looked from Morgan to Giang to Summers. He sighed and his face smoothed out, making room for calm to take over. "I want to say, like, that this is way out of my pay grade, 'cause it is, and I'm sure you know that, Mr. Summers. But..." another dramatic exhale, "if this is seriously a Terminus invasion, infiltration, whatever, we can't back down." Darren folded his arms and chewed his lip. "I agree with Crow's tasteful omission, though, if something happens, we aren't going to be able to stop Young Freedom. Maybe, maybe, we can take down Sharl or Indira, one or the other." He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "So what, exactly, do you want us to do when the watching's over?"

Darren sat in one of the chairs and held a latte between his hands, resting on one knee. His other knee was already bouncing as his foot tapped soundlessly against the floor of the Headmaster's office. The last time he'd been sent to the principal's office, he'd gotten quite a lecture, but he'd avoided having to have a talk with Summers since his transfer. Darren didn't feel particularly better when he heard that the city was in trouble rather than himself. He took a sip of his coffee, just cool enough to drink without scalding him. "I've heard some things, yeah, but I thought it was, like, crazy conspiracy nut stuff. Someone's always saying the Terminus is invading, again. But if you believe it, it's probably true." Darren took another drink and his restless leg eased and settled. He glanced down at the floor a moment before meeting Summers' eye. "You want us to help, right? What should we do?"

Darren stepped down out of the bus and brushed himself off. He wasn't a fan of mass transit in general, but having flown to school earlier, driving himself and Subito out to East Bayview hadn't been an option. Thankfully, dry cleaning was well within his budget, so he had faith that, one day, his jeans and pea coat wouldn't smell like bus. Darren adjusted his messenger bag, imported leather, and hurried his steps to catch up with Subito. He drew his jacket a little closer and tightened up his scarf. "A couple streets is too far. Snow is just, like, the worst." He stood on the front step with Subito and crossed his arms, tucking his hands away to keep them warm. "I don't know, I'm not really up to snuff on superpeople. Particularly not on ones from the seventies, not a disco fan." Darren's eyes slid over to Subito and he gave the other boy a thin smile. He was a little pink from the cold, but not nearly as nervous. "She's probably just a sweet old lady who used to beat up bank robbers with magic." Darren wriggled his eyebrows and rocked on his heels until he heard a chain slide behind the door. He sat still and unfolded his arms, putting on his best presentable, respectful youth face.

I'd be happy to join, too, either in addition to or instead of the other planned thread if it'd too much otherwise.

Darren tipped forward and brushed the crystal cut-outs to the side, though they continued to sag in the air. He looked around Elias' head as the other boy spoke to see that, indeed, there were three people sitting over there. Or, rather, that two were sitting and one was getting up. He turned his head ninety degrees to check on the other table, flicked his eyes down to see the tapping feet. Darren pursed his lips and hummed a low approval. "So, like...let's see, telekinesis that lets you feel things happening around you? It's not really the right root, though, it'd be more like, hm, telehaptics. That's gotta get annoying." "To be honest, I don't really know what goes on. Like, when I do this kind of stuff-" He sat back and waved his fingers, jazz hands surrounded in dull white light. Crystals started to wink into existence in the air around him, basic geometric shapes: cubes, spheres, cones. A prism floated too close to his face and he slapped it away with the back of his hand, sending it spinning to the other end of the table. "I seriously don't know if I'm crystalizing the air or, like, replicating billions of years of deep-earth compression using crazy psienergy instead of carbon. I definitely couldn't fill someone's lungs with crystal, though that'd be kinda cool. I did accidentally diamondize my steering wheel once, that was a scary few seconds." Darren put his hands down and relaxed; the lights disappeared from his fingers and his not-glass menagerie fell into dust that faded away before even hitting the table. "You're doing pretty well right now if people are new to you. I'm sure there's kids in here, like, who get anxiety or something with a thousand times more experience. The not playing in people's minds thing is a good rule. In general, anyway, I try not to get into absolutes."

"Telepathy, empathy, suggestion, mind-meld, quite a blue ribbon psychic, huh? That's really cool, actually." Darren smirked, then leaned back away from the table and arched his back in a stretch, hands together and out over his head. When he came forward again, he dropped his hands in front of him and spread them apart. A chain of paper men linked from the fingertips of one hand to the other, albeit paper men made out of canary yellow diamond that twinkled under the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. Darren jostled his hands in the air and the little people bounced, dancing. "Like I said, mine haven't been too bad, though I do sometimes still, like, diamondize stuff when I'm not paying attention. I'm getting pretty good at parlor tricks though. Powers like yours, there's a lot more to go wrong." He shrugged, turning his palms to the ceiling; the crystal men hung in the air as if on wires. "Not gonna pry. No need to get too heavy on our first friend not-date. And, like, it's so not my business."

“The whole city? You must do some crazy brain curls.†Darren snickered, both amused and relieved. If he was supposed to know when Elias was poking through his head, then he didn't have to worry quite so much about any single stray thought causing problems. Elias' incidental cheating was better than having to play with his hand always revealed, as it were. “And you're a, what is it called, an empath, too? I had no idea.†“I don't think you're moping, that'd be, like, presumptive, and if you don't want pity then I won't give you any. I can still offer sympathy, though, right? Like, my powers have been pretty easy to get under control, except for the first few weeks where it was full-on Midas touch, that was awful. But...†Darren perked up and straightened, then swept the whole room to make sure his sister wasn't in earshot, “My sister, she was, like, dangerous for months. She put her thumb through her phone's screen and ripped the door off her car, stuff like that. Powers are weird, but, I mean, we're at super school, right? You'll get it down, no worries.â€