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Disco Fever [1972]


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"Wait, you aren't some sort of alien shapechanger mindreader, are you?" Sean asks. Icarus sighs.

"At this point, I'm trying real hard not to throttle myself. It's like... ugh. No, I am not an alien shapechanger mindreader. If I were, don't you think I would have made myself look more like you?" Icarus asks. Sean opens his mouth, and Icarus cuts him off. "And it doesn't make sense for me to try to trick you like that, so don't even say it. I'm not reading your mind," he raises his voice as Sean begins to sputter, "I'm you from the future. I remember what I was like, though I guess I forgot how dumb I was as a teenager."

Sean finally gets a word in, "Hey, I'm twenty now, not a teenager." Icarus chuckles, saying, "Right, I was then. I remember when that was a big deal."

Icarus' face goes somber, and he looks to Sean. "I've got some bad news for you. Dad was just killed over by Haas Jewelers." He tries to say the words as gently as he can, but Sean's reaction is still near-catatonic shock.

"No... no. Why didn't you stop it? What happened?" Sean says.

"I got here too late. Time travel doesn't always work the way you want it to," Icarus says. "I'm sorry. I remember how this hurt. The Power Corps shot him while his back was turned. They were robbing Haas Jewelers."

Sean looks up at himself, shock turning to anger, "He got killed because he was trying to be a hero, huh? He spent all our money on that suit of his, trying to get the Freedom League's attention. Got me sent to 'Nam because I couldn't afford college. And now he's dead?!"

Icarus smiles thinly. He puts down the beer, then moves much faster than Sean thought possible, pinning him against an air conditioning unit. Icarus stares him straight in the eyes and speaks in an almost quiet voice. It's much more intimidating than Sean's wild yelling.

"No. I lied. I couldn't save him, but someone else did. Maybe a friend of mine, though God knows I haven't had many of them over the years. He's still alive," Icarus says, releasing Sean from the pin. He blinks back a tear. "I told you that I remember how this hurt, and I wanted you to feel it so you could remember it. Feeling angry like that - it doesn't get you anything. We had a tough life, big deal. You walk down the path I took, and you'll end up alone and unloved. You know Dad loves you, and I know that you love him too. He broke your heart when he died, but now you've got a chance to make things better."

Icarus is crying now, and can't help it. "Here, I'll take you down. Go home, and go see him. I've got some more thinking to do." He lifts Sean up and floats down to the ground. Once he's there, Icarus takes back off, flying slowly into the clouds.

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"Wait, you aren't some sort of alien shapechanger mindreader, are you?" Sean asks. Icarus sighs.

"At this point, I'm trying real hard not to throttle myself. It's like... ugh. No, I am not an alien shapechanger mindreader. If I were, don't you think I would have made myself look more like you?" Icarus asks. Sean opens his mouth, and Icarus cuts him off. "And it doesn't make sense for me to try to trick you like that, so don't even say it. I'm not reading your mind," he raises his voice as Sean begins to sputter, "I'm you from the future. I remember what I was like, though I guess I forgot how dumb I was as a teenager."

Sean finally gets a word in, "Hey, I'm twenty now, not a teenager." Icarus chuckles, saying, "Right, I was then. I remember when that was a big deal."

Icarus' face goes somber, and he looks to Sean. "I've got some bad news for you. Dad was just killed over by Haas Jewelers." He tries to say the words as gently as he can, but Sean's reaction is still near-catatonic shock.

"No... no. Why didn't you stop it? What happened?" Sean says.

"I got here too late. Time travel doesn't always work the way you want it to," Icarus says. "I'm sorry. I remember how this hurt. The Power Corps shot him while his back was turned. They were robbing Haas Jewelers."

Sean looks up at himself, shock turning to anger, "He got killed because he was trying to be a hero, huh? He spent all our money on that suit of his, trying to get the Freedom League's attention. Got me sent to 'Nam because I couldn't afford college. And now he's dead?!"

Icarus smiles thinly. He puts down the beer, then moves much faster than Sean thought possible, pinning him against an air conditioning unit. Icarus stares him straight in the eyes and speaks in an almost quiet voice. It's much more intimidating than Sean's wild yelling.

"No. I lied. I couldn't save him, but someone else did. Maybe a friend of mine, though God knows I haven't had many of them over the years. He's still alive," Icarus says, releasing Sean from the pin. He blinks back a tear. "I told you that I remember how this hurt, and I wanted you to feel it so you could remember it. Feeling angry like that - it doesn't get you anything. We had a tough life, big deal. You walk down the path I took, and you'll end up alone and unloved. You know Dad loves you, and I know that you love him too. He broke your heart when he died, but now you've got a chance to make things better."

Icarus is crying now, and can't help it. "Here, I'll take you down. Go home, and go see him. I've got some more thinking to do." He lifts Sean up and floats down to the ground. Once he's there, Icarus takes back off, flying slowly into the clouds.

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Grim's heart is beating a mile a minute as the suit begins to open; anything could be waiting inside: a man, a boy, an old man, an intelligent glob of Jell-o, a swarm of those disgusting hissing cockroaches... Her mind is never still, that's just not possible, but the series of images, the possibilities, are flashing through her one after another like a machine gun loaded with hopes and fears. If he's ugly, could she still love him? Just how horrible of a person would she be if she couldn't? Wait, who started talking about love, anyway? This is strong like, nothing else-

There is a sharp gasp when she first sees the wires, and it's like a sword of ice right through Renichi's heart; she covers her face with her hands, barely daring to peek through her fingers.

My god, he's like a broken doll! He's torn apart - the pain must be torture!

But then Grim lowers her hands as she watches in wonder, the broken doll fixing itself like a film in reverse, and horror turns to fascinated awe. She takes a tentative step forward, then another.

"So... this is me." The once-human boy waved at Grim lamely. "Hi, my name's Renichi Sonada."

Her warm soft hand reaches out and strokes his face, the skin now smooth and seamless; she laughs, and it catches in her throat as she quickly covers her mouth to try to keep all the emotions from spilling out in a torrent. Hiccuping gasps, half-laughter and half-sobs, run through her whole body as tears well up in her eyes; finally she smiles, and the warmth and relief it conveys are a revelation.

"Hi, Renichi. I'm Lynn Epstein, and I'm very happy to meet you."

Lynn crushes him with a surprisingly fierce hug, her hot tears damp on his neck as she murmurs in his ear.

"Oh god. I'm so glad you're okay."

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Grim's heart is beating a mile a minute as the suit begins to open; anything could be waiting inside: a man, a boy, an old man, an intelligent glob of Jell-o, a swarm of those disgusting hissing cockroaches... Her mind is never still, that's just not possible, but the series of images, the possibilities, are flashing through her one after another like a machine gun loaded with hopes and fears. If he's ugly, could she still love him? Just how horrible of a person would she be if she couldn't? Wait, who started talking about love, anyway? This is strong like, nothing else-

There is a sharp gasp when she first sees the wires, and it's like a sword of ice right through Renichi's heart; she covers her face with her hands, barely daring to peek through her fingers.

My god, he's like a broken doll! He's torn apart - the pain must be torture!

But then Grim lowers her hands as she watches in wonder, the broken doll fixing itself like a film in reverse, and horror turns to fascinated awe. She takes a tentative step forward, then another.

"So... this is me." The once-human boy waved at Grim lamely. "Hi, my name's Renichi Sonada."

Her warm soft hand reaches out and strokes his face, the skin now smooth and seamless; she laughs, and it catches in her throat as she quickly covers her mouth to try to keep all the emotions from spilling out in a torrent. Hiccuping gasps, half-laughter and half-sobs, run through her whole body as tears well up in her eyes; finally she smiles, and the warmth and relief it conveys are a revelation.

"Hi, Renichi. I'm Lynn Epstein, and I'm very happy to meet you."

Lynn crushes him with a surprisingly fierce hug, her hot tears damp on his neck as she murmurs in his ear.

"Oh god. I'm so glad you're okay."

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Grim's heart is beating a mile a minute as the suit begins to open; anything could be waiting inside: a man, a boy, an old man, an intelligent glob of Jell-o, a swarm of those disgusting hissing cockroaches... Her mind is never still, that's just not possible, but the series of images, the possibilities, are flashing through her one after another like a machine gun loaded with hopes and fears. If he's ugly, could she still love him? Just how horrible of a person would she be if she couldn't? Wait, who started talking about love, anyway? This is strong like, nothing else-

There is a sharp gasp when she first sees the wires, and it's like a sword of ice right through Renichi's heart; she covers her face with her hands, barely daring to peek through her fingers.

My god, he's like a broken doll! He's torn apart - the pain must be torture!

But then Grim lowers her hands as she watches in wonder, the broken doll fixing itself like a film in reverse, and horror turns to fascinated awe. She takes a tentative step forward, then another.

"So... this is me." The once-human boy waved at Grim lamely. "Hi, my name's Renichi Sonada."

Her warm soft hand reaches out and strokes his face, the skin now smooth and seamless; she laughs, and it catches in her throat as she quickly covers her mouth to try to keep all the emotions from spilling out in a torrent. Hiccuping gasps, half-laughter and half-sobs, run through her whole body as tears well up in her eyes; finally she smiles, and the warmth and relief it conveys are a revelation.

"Hi, Renichi. I'm Lynn Epstein, and I'm very happy to meet you."

Lynn crushes him with a surprisingly fierce hug, her hot tears damp on his neck as she murmurs in his ear.

"Oh god. I'm so glad you're okay."

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Grim's sudden outpouring of emotion caught Renichi off guard, and he could only stare at the wall beyond her as she crushed herself up against him. His hands slowly came up to embrace her, unsure as he was. Then he broke down as well, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding and laughing a few times between hiccups. Even the fact that all of it was reflex - unecessary - couldn't reach him now.

"Thank you," he says, his voice barely raising over a whisper. "Thank you so much. I'm so much more than okay. Thank you."

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Grim's sudden outpouring of emotion caught Renichi off guard, and he could only stare at the wall beyond her as she crushed herself up against him. His hands slowly came up to embrace her, unsure as he was. Then he broke down as well, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding and laughing a few times between hiccups. Even the fact that all of it was reflex - unecessary - couldn't reach him now.

"Thank you," he says, his voice barely raising over a whisper. "Thank you so much. I'm so much more than okay. Thank you."

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Grim's sudden outpouring of emotion caught Renichi off guard, and he could only stare at the wall beyond her as she crushed herself up against him. His hands slowly came up to embrace her, unsure as he was. Then he broke down as well, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding and laughing a few times between hiccups. Even the fact that all of it was reflex - unecessary - couldn't reach him now.

"Thank you," he says, his voice barely raising over a whisper. "Thank you so much. I'm so much more than okay. Thank you."

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Nanowire and Grimalkin hear a cough from the side. Gravitor is dressed in a plaid collared shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans (with a crease). The waist is a bit higher than is seen with the 21st century's relaxed fit jeans, and a belt with a large square buckle makes sure that it won't fall down. When the two of them look over, Gravitor looks a little uncomfortable at having come in at this time.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

He squints a little, then seems to remember something that worries him. He takes a step inside and shouts up the stairs, "Mary! Is Sean home?"

Nanowire and Grimalkin can both hear the shout back, "No, he's still out at work." Gravitor sighs, then turns back to the two of them.

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean just got back from Vietnam last year. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react," Gravitor says. "Oh, and you two can call me Mr. Parker. My wife can't stand the name Gravitor. I think it's sort of catchy." He reminds them of nothing more than someone's dad trying to act cool, but coming off as a little hokey instead.

He'll lead them around a washing tub, a woodworking table, and a sewing machine and by a pantry before heading up the stairs. It's pretty obvious that there isn't a lot of spare space in the rowhome.

"Mary, we have two guests. This is Grimalkin and Roboman," Mr. Parker says.

Mary is a good six inches shorter than her husband, and wears a long pale green housedress with an apron over it. It looks like she's getting ready for dinner, the way the kitchen is laid out. She has short-cropped black hair and blue eyes.

"Grimalkin, like the cat in Macbeth? At least she has better taste in names than you do," Mrs. Parker says. She looks to the two youngsters, "I keep telling him that he sounds like a crazy person, going around calling himself Gravitor. You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?" she asks. "You probably had to leave your suit downstairs too. Should I set two more places for dinner?" she asks her husband.

Mr. Parker nods, "We've got some things to talk about, and we'll probably have worked up an appetite by then. Thanks dear." He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Parker smiles and shoos them out into the living room.

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Nanowire and Grimalkin hear a cough from the side. Gravitor is dressed in a plaid collared shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans (with a crease). The waist is a bit higher than is seen with the 21st century's relaxed fit jeans, and a belt with a large square buckle makes sure that it won't fall down. When the two of them look over, Gravitor looks a little uncomfortable at having come in at this time.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

He squints a little, then seems to remember something that worries him. He takes a step inside and shouts up the stairs, "Mary! Is Sean home?"

Nanowire and Grimalkin can both hear the shout back, "No, he's still out at work." Gravitor sighs, then turns back to the two of them.

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean just got back from Vietnam last year. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react," Gravitor says. "Oh, and you two can call me Mr. Parker. My wife can't stand the name Gravitor. I think it's sort of catchy." He reminds them of nothing more than someone's dad trying to act cool, but coming off as a little hokey instead.

He'll lead them around a washing tub, a woodworking table, and a sewing machine and by a pantry before heading up the stairs. It's pretty obvious that there isn't a lot of spare space in the rowhome.

"Mary, we have two guests. This is Grimalkin and Roboman," Mr. Parker says.

Mary is a good six inches shorter than her husband, and wears a long pale green housedress with an apron over it. It looks like she's getting ready for dinner, the way the kitchen is laid out. She has short-cropped black hair and blue eyes.

"Grimalkin, like the cat in Macbeth? At least she has better taste in names than you do," Mrs. Parker says. She looks to the two youngsters, "I keep telling him that he sounds like a crazy person, going around calling himself Gravitor. You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?" she asks. "You probably had to leave your suit downstairs too. Should I set two more places for dinner?" she asks her husband.

Mr. Parker nods, "We've got some things to talk about, and we'll probably have worked up an appetite by then. Thanks dear." He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Parker smiles and shoos them out into the living room.

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Nanowire and Grimalkin hear a cough from the side. Gravitor is dressed in a plaid collared shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans (with a crease). The waist is a bit higher than is seen with the 21st century's relaxed fit jeans, and a belt with a large square buckle makes sure that it won't fall down. When the two of them look over, Gravitor looks a little uncomfortable at having come in at this time.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

He squints a little, then seems to remember something that worries him. He takes a step inside and shouts up the stairs, "Mary! Is Sean home?"

Nanowire and Grimalkin can both hear the shout back, "No, he's still out at work." Gravitor sighs, then turns back to the two of them.

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean just got back from Vietnam last year. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react," Gravitor says. "Oh, and you two can call me Mr. Parker. My wife can't stand the name Gravitor. I think it's sort of catchy." He reminds them of nothing more than someone's dad trying to act cool, but coming off as a little hokey instead.

He'll lead them around a washing tub, a woodworking table, and a sewing machine and by a pantry before heading up the stairs. It's pretty obvious that there isn't a lot of spare space in the rowhome.

"Mary, we have two guests. This is Grimalkin and Roboman," Mr. Parker says.

Mary is a good six inches shorter than her husband, and wears a long pale green housedress with an apron over it. It looks like she's getting ready for dinner, the way the kitchen is laid out. She has short-cropped black hair and blue eyes.

"Grimalkin, like the cat in Macbeth? At least she has better taste in names than you do," Mrs. Parker says. She looks to the two youngsters, "I keep telling him that he sounds like a crazy person, going around calling himself Gravitor. You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?" she asks. "You probably had to leave your suit downstairs too. Should I set two more places for dinner?" she asks her husband.

Mr. Parker nods, "We've got some things to talk about, and we'll probably have worked up an appetite by then. Thanks dear." He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Parker smiles and shoos them out into the living room.

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Seth set the car down more or less without thinking, as the skyward boom captured all of his attention.

Seth felt tingles shoot up and down his body. It was so easy to take what he could do for granted. So easy to be, more or less blaze about the whole metahuman thing. Most of the world were inspired when a man in tights descended on them to save the day, or purport some great villainy. But not Seth. He had direct experience in such matters. Not much. But some. And he had a fantastic imagination. He could play out scenarios in his head that rivaled the holodeck from Star Trek.

Seth didn't impress easy. But Seth was blown away. It was THE Centurion. That man was hero, was legend, was everything...on a whole other level.

"Later you two" he directed at the Monkey-man and the Chick in the Car. He pulled himself into the sky without even rationalizing it, and kinda flew in the Centurion's wake for the briefest of seconds.

He got another really good look at the city. It wasn't his Freedom city, but it almost looked like a sketch of it. Incomplete, but the form was there. It was then and there that Seth began to entertain the idea that he might be in a different time. The Centurion was proof positive. He was sometime in the past. And Logically so were the villains he had faced down at his last waking memory.

The possibility of Temporal Pollution was terrifying. There were a couple of schools of thought on Temporal Mechanics. Seth personally believed in a multiverse, but that was neither here nor there. The possibility of endless branching timelines was not a good one. Seth has to find the villains.

He took further to the sky, and began to search for signs of trouble. If need be he would find someone from the Freedom League, and fill them in on what little he could.

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Seth set the car down more or less without thinking, as the skyward boom captured all of his attention.

Seth felt tingles shoot up and down his body. It was so easy to take what he could do for granted. So easy to be, more or less blaze about the whole metahuman thing. Most of the world were inspired when a man in tights descended on them to save the day, or purport some great villainy. But not Seth. He had direct experience in such matters. Not much. But some. And he had a fantastic imagination. He could play out scenarios in his head that rivaled the holodeck from Star Trek.

Seth didn't impress easy. But Seth was blown away. It was THE Centurion. That man was hero, was legend, was everything...on a whole other level.

"Later you two" he directed at the Monkey-man and the Chick in the Car. He pulled himself into the sky without even rationalizing it, and kinda flew in the Centurion's wake for the briefest of seconds.

He got another really good look at the city. It wasn't his Freedom city, but it almost looked like a sketch of it. Incomplete, but the form was there. It was then and there that Seth began to entertain the idea that he might be in a different time. The Centurion was proof positive. He was sometime in the past. And Logically so were the villains he had faced down at his last waking memory.

The possibility of Temporal Pollution was terrifying. There were a couple of schools of thought on Temporal Mechanics. Seth personally believed in a multiverse, but that was neither here nor there. The possibility of endless branching timelines was not a good one. Seth has to find the villains.

He took further to the sky, and began to search for signs of trouble. If need be he would find someone from the Freedom League, and fill them in on what little he could.

Link to comment

Seth set the car down more or less without thinking, as the skyward boom captured all of his attention.

Seth felt tingles shoot up and down his body. It was so easy to take what he could do for granted. So easy to be, more or less blaze about the whole metahuman thing. Most of the world were inspired when a man in tights descended on them to save the day, or purport some great villainy. But not Seth. He had direct experience in such matters. Not much. But some. And he had a fantastic imagination. He could play out scenarios in his head that rivaled the holodeck from Star Trek.

Seth didn't impress easy. But Seth was blown away. It was THE Centurion. That man was hero, was legend, was everything...on a whole other level.

"Later you two" he directed at the Monkey-man and the Chick in the Car. He pulled himself into the sky without even rationalizing it, and kinda flew in the Centurion's wake for the briefest of seconds.

He got another really good look at the city. It wasn't his Freedom city, but it almost looked like a sketch of it. Incomplete, but the form was there. It was then and there that Seth began to entertain the idea that he might be in a different time. The Centurion was proof positive. He was sometime in the past. And Logically so were the villains he had faced down at his last waking memory.

The possibility of Temporal Pollution was terrifying. There were a couple of schools of thought on Temporal Mechanics. Seth personally believed in a multiverse, but that was neither here nor there. The possibility of endless branching timelines was not a good one. Seth has to find the villains.

He took further to the sky, and began to search for signs of trouble. If need be he would find someone from the Freedom League, and fill them in on what little he could.

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Renichi blushed as Gravitor came back in and broke up the tender moment. His hands went immediately to his side as he tried to figure out who to apologize to first - Grim (now Lynn to him) for breaking down like that, or Gravitor for doing that in the man's house. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind all that much. Besides the uncomfortable stance, that is.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

"Oh..." he made a show of looking around the workshop, trying to think of an excuse as to way his seven foot tall armored mecha had suddenly disappeared. "I parked it outside! Yeah, I thought, you know, you had enough in here... it's out of the way, behind stuff... totally inconspicuous, don't worry."

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean got back from Vietnam a year ago. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react,"

Renichi blinked, wondering what that meant. Vietnam? Why would... "Oh! I'm... I'm actually Japanese, not Vietnamese... it's, ah... easy to confuse that, I know..." It wasn't, in fact, but he didn't want to call the man out on his incorrect identification of his ethnicity.

"And you can call me Renichi... or just Ren, if it's easier." His unaccented English was really working out for him here. Most non -idiomatic speakers of English would pronounce Renichi as "Lenichi", causing some confusion. Thank you, advanced placement English, Renichi thought happily.

"You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?"

"Aheh," Renichi scratched the back of his head nervously, now kind of disappointed he hadn't chosen a cooler-sounding name for himself. Who knew how long he would be here. And the entire time, he'd be known as Roboman? Maybe I can re-invent myself?

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Renichi blushed as Gravitor came back in and broke up the tender moment. His hands went immediately to his side as he tried to figure out who to apologize to first - Grim (now Lynn to him) for breaking down like that, or Gravitor for doing that in the man's house. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind all that much. Besides the uncomfortable stance, that is.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

"Oh..." he made a show of looking around the workshop, trying to think of an excuse as to way his seven foot tall armored mecha had suddenly disappeared. "I parked it outside! Yeah, I thought, you know, you had enough in here... it's out of the way, behind stuff... totally inconspicuous, don't worry."

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean got back from Vietnam a year ago. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react,"

Renichi blinked, wondering what that meant. Vietnam? Why would... "Oh! I'm... I'm actually Japanese, not Vietnamese... it's, ah... easy to confuse that, I know..." It wasn't, in fact, but he didn't want to call the man out on his incorrect identification of his ethnicity.

"And you can call me Renichi... or just Ren, if it's easier." His unaccented English was really working out for him here. Most non -idiomatic speakers of English would pronounce Renichi as "Lenichi", causing some confusion. Thank you, advanced placement English, Renichi thought happily.

"You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?"

"Aheh," Renichi scratched the back of his head nervously, now kind of disappointed he hadn't chosen a cooler-sounding name for himself. Who knew how long he would be here. And the entire time, he'd be known as Roboman? Maybe I can re-invent myself?

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Renichi blushed as Gravitor came back in and broke up the tender moment. His hands went immediately to his side as he tried to figure out who to apologize to first - Grim (now Lynn to him) for breaking down like that, or Gravitor for doing that in the man's house. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind all that much. Besides the uncomfortable stance, that is.

"The two of you ready to head upstairs?" he asks. He looks over to Nanowire, then behind him. "Where'd your suit go there, kid?"

"Oh..." he made a show of looking around the workshop, trying to think of an excuse as to way his seven foot tall armored mecha had suddenly disappeared. "I parked it outside! Yeah, I thought, you know, you had enough in here... it's out of the way, behind stuff... totally inconspicuous, don't worry."

"Sorry there, Roboman. Sean got back from Vietnam a year ago. He still isn't quite himself. It's not his fault, but I don't know how he'd react,"

Renichi blinked, wondering what that meant. Vietnam? Why would... "Oh! I'm... I'm actually Japanese, not Vietnamese... it's, ah... easy to confuse that, I know..." It wasn't, in fact, but he didn't want to call the man out on his incorrect identification of his ethnicity.

"And you can call me Renichi... or just Ren, if it's easier." His unaccented English was really working out for him here. Most non -idiomatic speakers of English would pronounce Renichi as "Lenichi", causing some confusion. Thank you, advanced placement English, Renichi thought happily.

"You aren't much better, young man. Roboman?"

"Aheh," Renichi scratched the back of his head nervously, now kind of disappointed he hadn't chosen a cooler-sounding name for himself. Who knew how long he would be here. And the entire time, he'd be known as Roboman? Maybe I can re-invent myself?

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Icarus tries to wipe his face with his forearm, but metal isn't as good as cloth for that purpose. It takes a hand, the one that isn't holding the helm as he flies. He looks down at his suit, which is still fairly damaged from the crash.

"I need to find a place to repair this thing," he thinks to himself. "And I still need to make my life easier. I'm still poor here, but a few stock tips can change that..." He smiles to himself. He won't see himself again; too risky. Sending a letter, though, means that he can deliver a message after he's gone back to his regular time.

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Icarus tries to wipe his face with his forearm, but metal isn't as good as cloth for that purpose. It takes a hand, the one that isn't holding the helm as he flies. He looks down at his suit, which is still fairly damaged from the crash.

"I need to find a place to repair this thing," he thinks to himself. "And I still need to make my life easier. I'm still poor here, but a few stock tips can change that..." He smiles to himself. He won't see himself again; too risky. Sending a letter, though, means that he can deliver a message after he's gone back to his regular time.

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Icarus tries to wipe his face with his forearm, but metal isn't as good as cloth for that purpose. It takes a hand, the one that isn't holding the helm as he flies. He looks down at his suit, which is still fairly damaged from the crash.

"I need to find a place to repair this thing," he thinks to himself. "And I still need to make my life easier. I'm still poor here, but a few stock tips can change that..." He smiles to himself. He won't see himself again; too risky. Sending a letter, though, means that he can deliver a message after he's gone back to his regular time.

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Lynn smiles when Mrs. Parker recognizes the origin of her name; of course it was very awkward being caught hugging Ren in the garage, but now she felt more comfortable than she had in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually sat down for a family dinner.

"Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, and please call me Lynn. It's very nice of you to have us over for dinner."

Even though she's never been in the Parker home, it feels oddly familiar, all the little details like the furniture and decor; as she primly takes a seat on the couch, it suddenly strikes Lynn that it's very similar to her Grandpa Silberman's house. In reality everything is very different, but the sense of the place is the same. And the smells! The furniture polish, the laundry detergent, even the faintly musty couch, are all powerful echoes of her childhood visits. At long last, she can't help herself.

"Mr. Parker, do you know of a shop called Silberman's Books? It's here in the West End, and my...uncle runs it. You might even know the owner, Louis Silberman? He and my aunt have lived here forever."

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Lynn smiles when Mrs. Parker recognizes the origin of her name; of course it was very awkward being caught hugging Ren in the garage, but now she felt more comfortable than she had in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually sat down for a family dinner.

"Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, and please call me Lynn. It's very nice of you to have us over for dinner."

Even though she's never been in the Parker home, it feels oddly familiar, all the little details like the furniture and decor; as she primly takes a seat on the couch, it suddenly strikes Lynn that it's very similar to her Grandpa Silberman's house. In reality everything is very different, but the sense of the place is the same. And the smells! The furniture polish, the laundry detergent, even the faintly musty couch, are all powerful echoes of her childhood visits. At long last, she can't help herself.

"Mr. Parker, do you know of a shop called Silberman's Books? It's here in the West End, and my...uncle runs it. You might even know the owner, Louis Silberman? He and my aunt have lived here forever."

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Lynn smiles when Mrs. Parker recognizes the origin of her name; of course it was very awkward being caught hugging Ren in the garage, but now she felt more comfortable than she had in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually sat down for a family dinner.

"Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, and please call me Lynn. It's very nice of you to have us over for dinner."

Even though she's never been in the Parker home, it feels oddly familiar, all the little details like the furniture and decor; as she primly takes a seat on the couch, it suddenly strikes Lynn that it's very similar to her Grandpa Silberman's house. In reality everything is very different, but the sense of the place is the same. And the smells! The furniture polish, the laundry detergent, even the faintly musty couch, are all powerful echoes of her childhood visits. At long last, she can't help herself.

"Mr. Parker, do you know of a shop called Silberman's Books? It's here in the West End, and my...uncle runs it. You might even know the owner, Louis Silberman? He and my aunt have lived here forever."

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Mr. Parker pauses in the middle of pulling over a chair by the couch.

"Louie Silberman? Yeah, I know him. I don't get to go out his way much anymore, but I remember when Sean would take his allowance and get some of those Analog magazines every month. Louie was the only guy around here who'd order them for him. I thought he didn't have any brothers or sisters, though. Are you related to him through Maggie?" he asks.

He takes a seat in the chair and relaxes, letting some of the tension drain out of his body. "Thank you both, for not telling Mary how close a call I had today. She worries enough as it is. But I think there's something you're not telling me. Ren, you don't even look as old as my son. That suit you were wearing, though... I recognize fine craftsmanship. That thing is better than mine, and maybe nearly as good as Daedalus'. You're using gravitons for propulsion, and I'm pretty sure that there's only a few people besides me and him who know how to do that. Who gave you that suit, and why?"


Icarus takes a deep breath. He's still not used to being out of his suit, but he's already made enough news for one day. He chuckles to himself, "At least this is before cheap closed-circuit cameras and cell phone cameras; probably didn't get any pictures taken of me."

The pieces of it are disassembled and placed behind some lumber on the roof. Icarus chose this one because it's fairly out of the way, and because the fire escape looks like it hasn't been used in months. Rust covers it, and he isn't about to test his weight on it (especially if he should use his power). Instead, he looks down into the alleyway below. Seeing it empty, he floats down and lands on top of a couple trash cans. He smiles at that simple act. It's different, flying when he isn't in the armor. It feels freer. Granted, the ability of the suit to block out bad smells would come in handy right about now. He wrinkles his nose and walks out to the sidewalk.

It's the old neighborhood, and he marvels at how little it will change over the years. The Terminus Invasion didn't hit this place very hard, so a lot of the buildings are the same. One in particular catches his eye.

"Silberman Books" the sign proclaims. Icarus smiles to himself and walks inside. The man behind the counter looks up and smiles.

"Hello there Sean. That is you, isn't it? It's been a while since I think I've seen you in here," Mr. Silberman says.

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Mr. Parker pauses in the middle of pulling over a chair by the couch.

"Louie Silberman? Yeah, I know him. I don't get to go out his way much anymore, but I remember when Sean would take his allowance and get some of those Analog magazines every month. Louie was the only guy around here who'd order them for him. I thought he didn't have any brothers or sisters, though. Are you related to him through Maggie?" he asks.

He takes a seat in the chair and relaxes, letting some of the tension drain out of his body. "Thank you both, for not telling Mary how close a call I had today. She worries enough as it is. But I think there's something you're not telling me. Ren, you don't even look as old as my son. That suit you were wearing, though... I recognize fine craftsmanship. That thing is better than mine, and maybe nearly as good as Daedalus'. You're using gravitons for propulsion, and I'm pretty sure that there's only a few people besides me and him who know how to do that. Who gave you that suit, and why?"


Icarus takes a deep breath. He's still not used to being out of his suit, but he's already made enough news for one day. He chuckles to himself, "At least this is before cheap closed-circuit cameras and cell phone cameras; probably didn't get any pictures taken of me."

The pieces of it are disassembled and placed behind some lumber on the roof. Icarus chose this one because it's fairly out of the way, and because the fire escape looks like it hasn't been used in months. Rust covers it, and he isn't about to test his weight on it (especially if he should use his power). Instead, he looks down into the alleyway below. Seeing it empty, he floats down and lands on top of a couple trash cans. He smiles at that simple act. It's different, flying when he isn't in the armor. It feels freer. Granted, the ability of the suit to block out bad smells would come in handy right about now. He wrinkles his nose and walks out to the sidewalk.

It's the old neighborhood, and he marvels at how little it will change over the years. The Terminus Invasion didn't hit this place very hard, so a lot of the buildings are the same. One in particular catches his eye.

"Silberman Books" the sign proclaims. Icarus smiles to himself and walks inside. The man behind the counter looks up and smiles.

"Hello there Sean. That is you, isn't it? It's been a while since I think I've seen you in here," Mr. Silberman says.

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