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Vacation (All I Ever Wanted) - IC


TheAbsurdist

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10:51PM, Feb. 19th, 2012, in the bar at the Monte Carlo Hotel

He admitted he was retreating, the constant migraines, the occasional rises of anger as he reached out, grabbing for power to fuel himself... He made the dutiful visit to his parents in Paris, and then traveled south for his own sake, coming to the Riviera, down into Monaco to relax. He didn't like it, but he left word that if there was any emergencies back home to call him, and that he would return. And he had left his phone upstairs in his room, intending on just relaxing. It didn't help that his time with his parents had been him fending off their incredulous reaction to him turning public with his heroing.

Now though, he was enjoying a drink, and listening to the piano player. Even here he was noticed, but fortunately the number of people who could was diminished, he could try to find some equilibrium. Shaking his head and sighing, looking down at the bar in front of him, hands idly stroking over the surface of it. "Hmph." And then he slowly drained his drink, and the pushed the glass back towards the bartender. "Un autre s'il vous plaît." Offering the man a smile, feeling that warmth and giddiness spreading through him, letting him know he was slightly tipsy. When his drink was refreshed, he slide a folded bill to the man, and turned, leaning back against the bar and people watched.

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It was sort of off season, and while it was still lovely this time of year and there were still enough people here, he had surprising little to watch. Still enjoyed his vodka tonic, and the quiet. Which had viewed as something of a luxury. He didn't really have anyone to speak to, not really. Ana didn't want to hear about the superheroing thing, or anything to do with it, and most of his other friends had lives of their own, and he felt guilty going to them. There were all like strangers now.

They were strangers now. Which act was going to strain first? He didn't know. And he almost didn't hear the lilting voice to his side, and he blinked lifted his head towards it, "Stai cercando piuttosto introspettivo. Cura per cambiare la situazione?" The corner of his lips twitched with a smile, and he had to repress his response, just a little, before responding in French.

"

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Amir looked at her and to his credit, or maybe the alcohol slowed his reaction time a little, he didn't do a blatant double take (just close to it) at the woman with riotous dark hair who had took the seat next to him. She had the features he would wax poetically, and badly so, about. The woman laughed at that, even the laugh held his attention, and responded back to him, in French this time, fortunately. "" Said before she turned, and orders him another drink.

Now Amir didn't see she was holding something in her palm, or that she dropped it into the drink she got for him. He also didn't taste anything funny in the drink, and he blinked a little after a few moments, his grin having gotten a little sloppier. "

To her credit, she didn't look upset at all, or surprised. She was sticking to the plan, and her lips remained curled into a smile. ""

"" Draining the last of his drink, he got up, not a lot of weave in how he moved, and he held out a hand that she took, and moved with her from the bar towards the exit out onto the private beach. Casually she lifted her hand and raked her fingers through her hair, hiding the remains of the power she had hidden in her palm, and also signalling someone else nearby that stage two was a go.

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  • 2 weeks later...

It was a little chilly when they got to the hotel's private beach, not that he minded. Normally it wasn't open this late, but then he was a billionaire, and so the word 'No' was often times more a suggestion rather than a firm stance. She led him towards a more secluded point on the beach, naturally. He didn't notice, nor did he notice the person lurking in the shadows, snuffing out a cigarette in the sand. Nor that man lifting up the weapon onto his shoulder and taking aim at Amir.

What Amir noticed was the strange thrumming sound, and turning in time to a see a wave of distortion hit him. There was not force behind it, and he almost started to laugh, only to find his muscles not responding at all. And was completely aware as he fell to the ground, his muscles locked in a sort of rictus. His mind was still moving sluggish despite the frantic efforts of his thoughts, as it prevented his body from producing adrenaline as well. Only breathing and blinking continued as he laid in the sand.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The man casually walked towards the woman, slinging the large guy in a cavalier fashion over his shoulder, laughing a little bit. Her arms were crossed and she was scowling at him. When he got close enough, she gestured at him angrily, jabbing a finger at him like a knife, and speaking rapidly in Italian. At that point Asad regretted that particular lapse in his schooling, and his own mouth flatly refused to open, to allow him to speak. He heard the feet shuffling then, as people were coming closer, and the man was responding back to the woman smoothly, also speaking in Italian. Still have that headache...

Hands grabbed him, and pulled him up, as a harness roughly pulled over his form, his arms bound across his chest, forearms pressed together. He had nothing in his limbs to fight against. If he could glower, he would do so at them. Slowly he was hauled to his feet. And then his nerves came alive, as pain poured through every fiber, and his knees buckled and gave out, dropping down hard. "Nngha!" A strangled sound was the extent of what he could do.

"" She hissed at them through clenched teeth. They were perfect teeth, Asad noted, before everything went black.

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  • 1 month later...

Consciousness came slowly to Asad, drifting him in and out of sleep for an unspecified period of time. Eventually, he managed to open his eyes, and saw a man standing in shadow.

"Ah, you're finally awake. Good. Your powers are miraculous, you know. We see so many of you supers around that we forget what it means to be human." The man stepped closer, but was far too back lit to have his face visible. "But people also forget, what it used to mean to be human. We are always evolving, beyond what we are now. We are always changing. I believe, sincerely, in human potential. The world has a bright future, Mr. Misri, and I believe you're going to help me help humanity."

Suddenly, pain wracked Asad's body, and he was aware of his situation; bound by some sort of device that connected him to all sorts of machinery.

"You seem to know the score, at least a bit, with your refusal to hide your identity, you understand, don't you, what those silly names and costumes ultimately mean. They mean nothing. Symbolism that will one day be worthless. These superhuman gang wars, heroes, villains, all of it is meaningless. I am one of the rare few in this world with real vision. The definition of what it means to be human is changing. Human limits, human frailties, they are becoming a thing of the past. Look at you, are you even human anymore? You are so much more than what you were, are you even mortal anymore?" He asked, letting his words sink in. "Virtually indestructible, immune to common ailments that fell lesser men. In any other world, by any other definition, Mr. Misri, you would be a god. But there are so many gods now, aren't they? How long, do you think, will it be before the 'ordinary human' can fly, or shoot electricity? How long will it be before humanity is completely redefined."

The device turned on again, and Asad's world was pain for a few moments.

"But I do not have time, Mr. Misri, to permit these changes to happen at their own pace. Humanity is at the brink of divinity, of a world where people will all possess powers, where the ability to fly will be as common as the ability to walk. I know, that some people will not make it. Some people simply will not be strong enough to survive. That is regrettable, but every revolution is born out of blood, all great change needs sacrifice. I am leading humanity into a golden age, Mr. Misri, and it will be glorious, wonderful age. For those that survive."

Yet again, pain wracked Asad's body, but this time, he did not withstand the pain, and sleep took him again.

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He was barely cognizant as he was spoken to. At least not the first couple words, and then he realized he was receiving a speech. Prepackaged. Prepped carefully. And before he could spit out an off the cuff rejoinder back at the guy. And then pain. Pain was everything. He couldn't even summon enough to scream. Instead he crumpled to the ground, and he noted that his position was that of the making a prayer. Funny the little things your mind fixates on. Gasping for breath, he rubbed his face against the floor. Again he started to respond, tried to speak, hearing the speech but not listening. Of course he knew he wasn't the intended target. No, this was a mission statement, that he was here was irrelevant, if it wasn't him it would be someone else. Someone who couldn't take it... he had to. He had to endure. And then once more his world was defined in measures of pain.

When he came awake he didn't know how long it had been, just that he was still bound, still in that containment cell, and his situation crept back into his conscious mind. Finding himself supplicating again, he croaked out a prayer. Begging for strength, for forgiveness to the man who had him captive, as he doubted that he would be able to feel that. To feel regret for his decision to be a hero as doubt filled his mind along with pain.

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