NationStates Jolt Archive

Deleted - It's over.

Collin Hu sat quietly, watching the outside world pass by at speeds that weren't super human by any means, but none the less far too fast. He had come to the conclusion that people just wouldn't, or couldn't sit to realise the beauty of the world around them. He sighed. What was the old saying? Stop and smell the roses? Yes, that was it. People needed to stop and smell the roses.

His train of thought was quickly interupted. "Order up! Hu, its yours," the voice called from the back. Collin looked towards the back of the small kitchen, a pizza place in down town Marakoch. He walked back, grabbing the hot box, and walking through the main boddy of the resteraunt, and out to his car in the parking lot. The small, white Datsun coupe was nothing to look at. It had been restored, and the body was in imaculate condition, a metalic white, and a nice set of new wheels. But otherwise, there was nothing to tell it apart from any other 1974 Datsun 240Z. Then he keyed the ignition, and the car barked to life, the brand new Nissan SR20DET motor purring, the soft wailing from under the hood noting that the turbo was obviously far from stock.

The white Datsun roared out of the parking lot, and onto the roads of Marakoch, as he sped towards the address of the delivery. He checked his wallet at a red light, if he got a decent tip, it would be enough for him to go out and race tonight. Money had been tight as of late, and he liked to have some spare cash, in those, well, tight, situations. He sighed again, pulling into a long drive way, and grabbed the pizza. He moved quietly up the drive, and rang the doorbell. The exchange was made, and he had received a bit less than what he was expecting tip wise. However, he smiled and noded politely, and walked quietly back to his car.

In a skyscraper, high above the surroundings, a tall man stood before a window. He was encased in shadows, and his eyes were hidden from the light as he called someone else behind him. "Look at this city, will you, Anastasia?"

A young woman stepped next to him and looked out. Her blonde hair hung gently down her sides and she softly put a hand on the glass. "I'm looking, Lord Simon."

"Tell me, what do you see, Stacey?" Simon asked, softly putting his hand on top of hers.

"I see a hive of insignificant, powerless, monkeys." Anastasia answered him in a quiet and unemotional voice. She stepped back and regarded it a bit more.

"Good answer, Stacey." He slid his arm around her waist, feeling her sleek and powerful build tense and then relax into his grasp. "Would you like to know what I see?"

"Please, do tell..." Anastasia replied, her eyes tracing up to meet his, sparkling with an inner amusement.

"I see power."

"Power, sir?"

"Power for us, for those gifted who choose to take it." Simon said firmly as his eyes moved to a small house in the distance. Oh, how easy it would be for him to just reach out and snuff out those little lives... "Power over THEM." Anastasia smiled and relaxed against him as he continued. "All of them, worrying over little trifles. They have no understanding..."

"What do you propose to do?"

Simon d'Arquis stepped back and took her chin gently, looking into her blue eyes. "What will I do?" He repeated, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her own. After they pulled back from eachother, he smiled softly. "I'm will do what God gave me this power for, my dear... I will be a King."

"And what will is to be my role?" Anastasia Black inquired, stepping back from him a step and fixing him with a gimlet stare.

"A King always needs his Queen, my dear." Simon slipped his hand back around her waist.

She smiled a little, and then leaned into him. "Excellent." Her eyes lighted up slightly as she leaned her head against him. "Excellent."

((This post was co-written with Gorgamin.))

OOC:

/frown

My series is longer than Assington's and do I get any love? Nope...

;)

Collin didn't manuver to avoid the oncomming Toyota, and as it sped past him, he sighed. Another punk kid who thinks he fast, the thoughts echoed in his mind. Far to many of them were out now a days, and he simply ignored the speeding car. Instead, he piloted his white Datsun towards an apartment complex just outside the metropolitan downtown area.

He parked his car, and exited, the turbo timer shutting the car down as he walked away, letting the turbo cool. He walked up to his own apartment, a nice set up with sparse furnishing, and stripped of his red "Mike's Pizza" polo and black slacks, and changed into a white Rebok under armor style shirt that fit loosely over his atheltic frame, and a pair of light running pants. The air was cool, and he wanted to stay at an optimum body temperature. He exited the complex, looked towards the city, and began to run.

His pace wasn't slow, but not quite fast. It was a controlled jog, a nice ballanced run. He would get to where he was going in due time. He never arrived late or early, but always just when he intended to arrive. Or at least thats what he always joked. His run took him through downtown, and past the outer laying areas that had been known to be a bit rougher. However, most in this area knew not to toy with him. He was quiet, cool, and collected, and being a master of Jeet Kun Do, most knew he could crush them before they even threw a punch.

His jog took him into the upper areas of the inner city, and around a corner that landed him right in front of a hospital. He entered the hospital, and wiped the sweat from his forhead, and walked towards the cafeteria, purchasing a bottle of watter, and then back to the main waiting area. He approached the main desk, approaching a secratery. "Dr. Sian Rhys, please," he asked, looking around. "Tell her that its Collin Hu."

The chattering and occassional squeals of joy from children in the park brought Laura's attention back to the present. She turned to watch the children talking amongst themselves of superheroes and villians. She looked to the parents, who were themselves carefully watching the children. The fear still lives. she thought as she raised her Nikon to snap a highly detailed picture of the children playing on the swings. One little boy had the guts to let himself fly free of the swings, temporarily "flying" away before tumbling to the ground in a shower of sand. The giggling friends all watched the child get up and turn to raise his hands to the sky as if he were the champion of a race.

Laura lowered the camera smiling some more as she turned her attention to the people walking the streets outside the park. An outside world, where even the innocence of children is butchered relentlessly. Her eyes fell upon an old store that once had been a thriving comic book store. Now, the only thing that thrived in those walls were cobwebs and critters of the undesirable kind. The world had truly gotten paranoid a few years ago, and even now, despite it being toned down a bit, it was still just as paranoid, fearful of the Gifted.

As survivors befitting the human race, the Gifted learned to adapt, retreat to the shadows like shameful beasts. The hunchbacks of Notre Dame, New York, and many places elsewhere, always had the threat of far greater punishment than the mythological Hunchback of Notre Dame if they dared to reveal themselves.

Click. An image of an older gentleman talking on his cellular phone while giving the finger to a passing motorist. Laura sighed. Twenty two years alive, and the last five years in hiding. She hated it, but she knew it was necessary.

Pulling out a bottle of water, she frowned as she noted it was warm from the day's heat. Glancing around carefully to check for unwanted eyes, she brought a hand to the bottle, instantly feeling the ice within form and quickly chilling the water. She opened it and took a sip, clearing her throat appreciatively.

The rumble of darkening weather overhead caused her to look up with a frown. Gathering her camera gear and her small bag, she made her way out of the park. She left behind her, the innocence of childhood and emerged once again into the dreary, underground violence of humankind.

Several blocks down the street from the park, she unlocked the door to her studio and entered. The air was chilled to a comfortable level, more to keep her equipment from becoming ruined by humidity. A hand reached out as she passed by to pick up the stereo remote and pushed to select her CD. Instantly, Rolling Stones' Paint It Black began to play on the several speakers that were positioned in optimal locations in the studio.

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens ev’ry day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facin’ up when your whole world is black

She entered her darkroom, turned on the red light and began to develop the day's photos for her latest portfolio on Transitions. She opened the camera, pulling out her negatives and set it on the table next to her in the dimly lit red room.

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin’ sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin’ comes

As she worked, she danced slightly to the music, although the beat wasn't really one to dance to. She didn't care. It served to soothe her nerves as she mused upon the existence of humanity.

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm,...
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!

An hour later, Laura finished her work and departed the darkroom. She made her way to the front and plopped down in a chair next to her computer and stereo. She checked her email briefly for business related contacts, but there were none. A few minutes later, she had propped her now shoeless feet upon the edge of the desk and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes as she listened to the music beating soothingly from her stereo.

Collin smiled politely at the receptionist, thanking her for her help, and began a slow walk to the meditation gardens. Most people disliked hospitals. To the outside world, they signified a sterile, inhuman place of death. Obscenely clean, smelling of pool cleaners, and so quiet. Subconsciously, people feared hospitals, for even if somone walked out alive, you only heard about those that never walked out at all.

However, Collin found the hospital relaxing in its ballance. Both healing and death existed in the building, the two sides of existance. Life and death. Light and dark. He strolled past the maternity ward, pearing through the glass at the new borns, and smiling at them. This was the best stage of life, he pondered to himself. They know nothing of hate, death, greed, pain, destruction, only the love that will be given to them, and has been. he smiled at a young father, anxiously pointing out his new born son to anyone who walked by, and congradulated him.

However, time was wearing, and he soon made it to the meditation garden. In one far corner, a rehab group for patients who had been paralyzed, and learning how to move again, was practicing Tai Chi. Collin rembered practicing the old art with his father, and as he watched, he saw how the slow movments, if sped up, looked much like one of his own practiced arts, Wing Chung Kung Fu. One of the many arts tied to gether to create Jeet Kun Do. He walked slowly over to the water garden, and began to peer into the glassy pond, watching the water quietly churn in order to prevent stagnense.

He had a special spot for water, being the true ballance in the universe. Water could be used both to give or take life, create or destroy, heal or hurt. It was truely a universal nuetral element. He stood, watching it, waiting, but not impatiently at all, for Sian to arrive.

Collin smiled as Sian approached, welcoming her with a freindly hand shake. "Its good to see you," he started, looking around the gardens. "I was thinking burgers? I haven't had real food in ages, all this new age diet stuff, trying to keep in shape," he said, smiling. "I hope you have your car, I ran here," he said again, trying not to sound like an idiot.

Collin nodded, and followed Sian out to the Mercedes Benz. It was a nice car, and very powerfull, but the looks just weren't his favorite. To much Honda Insight for his tastes. However, the powerful German sedans were selling, and so he slid queitly into the passenger's seat, and enjoyed the plush leather. It was far more comfortable than the hard, stiff cloth backed by carbon fiber that were his two seats in the Datsun.

He also enjoyed toying with the power windows and radio, two things lacking in the Datsun. He watched as the world sped by, not arguing at the choice of Beck's Grill, the thought of a good swiss mushroom burger making his mouth water.

Are you thinking of heading to 'The Road' tonight?

Collin thought for a moment. The idea of racing inticed him, and he enjoyed it, imensly. But part of him wanted to say no. He had become, in a sense, the top dog with his SR20DETed powered Datsun, a car that was well ballanced and had just the right amount of power. Sure, there were a number of 1000whp plus Supras, Skylines, and RX-7s around, but they weren't exactly anything better than trailer queens, and if a race involved anything more than an exact 1/4 mile stretch of open highway, such as a turn of any degree, they wouldn't race. To mention traffic, the possibility to destroy their car that had hundreds of thousands of dollars in it, or even police that would impound their near purpose built racer would turn them off imidieately. At least with a 1972 body style, and pressed steal panels, Collin didn't worry about bumping anything.

However, the simple fact remained that everyone felt it a right of passage, or for lack of a better description, an addiction, to challenge Collin. Most of the time, he would take one look at the compitors car, know exactly how bad he would beat it, and flat out turn it down. Other times, he was forced to beat off challengers with a large, blunt, smashing object of sorts. It had gotten to the point where on any given Saturday, as more races happened on Saturday than Friday, he wouldn't even show up with his car, but simply watch.

However, he was slowly getting short on cash, and wouldn't mind getting in a few runs. He had just installed slightly larger injectors on the motor, and wanted to try them out. His reply was a simple, "possibly, I'll see how I feel tonight," and with that, he cleared his mind of racing. Instead, he pushed himself back into the leather seats, allowing them to craddle him. They were more comfortable than his couch and bed, combined.

Collin bit into the burger, savoring the taste of beef coated with a strong, sharp big eye swiss and covered with mushrooms. He enjoyed the taste of the medium well meat, and washed it down with a swig of root beer. He had two philosophies that he never broke: no tobbaco and no booze. There were enough toxins in the air already, he didn't need to injest any on his own will. "Its pretty good," he said, swallowing the meat and takeing a bite of a french fry. "So, how was work?" he asked, wiping his hands on his napken.

Laura closed the door to her studio, locking it secure and then set an icy seal on the inside, invisible to prying eyes from the outside. It would act as a secondary lock, although it wasn't all that necessary. Nevertheless, this wasn't exactly the friendliest of neighborhoods in this city of Marakoch.

She turned around, opened her umbrella and positioned it over her head as she stepped into the heavy rain that had come an hour ago and still fell heavily. There was a crack of lightning, and six seconds later the thunder followed. She glanced up to the clouds. The storm was departing the area, moving into the countryside to play its ochestra for Nature's amusement.

As Laura walked down the street, she suddenly heard a splash unlike the normal rainfall somewhere behind her. She picked up her pace a little more, and began to move closer to a diner at the other end of the block.

"Hey bitch."

She stopped, causing the three males behind her to stop as well in surprise. They hadn't expected that response from her. Nevertheless, they persisted.

"You're coming with us, pretty thing."

She turned and looked cooly at the three males. They were older teens at best, wearing the typical clothing of gangsters with a love of blings and rap. She raised an eyebrow and looked between them, shifting her position slightly.

"Why don't you give me your numbers instead and I'll give you a call individually for some one on one time boys?"

The teens laughed in reply and stepped closer. One reached out to grip Laura's upper arm, intending to forcibly guide her along with them. That was the first mistake. The male's tortured scream filled the air as she brought a fist into the crook of his elbow with surprising strength. She spun and delivered a kick high and connected with the man's jaw.

The other two growled slightly and attacked, one bringing out a knife. The knife was soon dropped to the ground as the woman send a thundering foot into the man's throat. He stumbled away clutching his throat, trying to breathe. He collapsed after several moments, still gagging. She did not cease, and focused upon the third male, gripping him and driving her knee into his groin. He fell instantly, but was lifted by another knee shot to his jaw. He fell flat back, unconscious.

Laura straightened herself again, fixed her hair and muttered, "I hate machoists."

She turned and continued her way to the diner, slipping inside and into her own booth. She smiled to the waitress, Becky, who was familiar with Laura's presence every few nights in the diner.

"Same thing darlin'?" she asked when she approached.

"Please. Oh, and if you wouldn't mind, would you give the police a call? There's three boys down the street currently needing some medical attention."

Becky gave a surprised look at Laura. She raised a questioning look, and got a slight smile in return. "About time we women start standing up for ourselves. Let me treat you tonight dear, to mark the occasion."

Laura laughed, "I hardly think defending myself against three hormonally induced idiots is something notable to celebrate."

Becky looked at her sternly, "Hon, the way the world is getting these days, we need times of amusement. Please, it's on me."

Laura finally conceeded, and turned to sip the water in front of her. She turned her gaze to the street outside at the downpouring rain.

Simon adjusted his tie as he stood in front of the mirror. "Is this really neccessary, Anastasia?" He grumped and batted her hand away when she moved to help him.

"Simon, you have to look the part." Anastasia walked over and picked up his cape. "The eyes of the world will be looking at the results of this meeting, you know." The woman turned around in front of her own mirror, to make certain her own shimmering dress was just right.

"I know." The man fussed and put his hands on her waist, then whispered into her ear, "Where will you be?"

"I'll be with you during the reception, and in the meeting I'll be waiting in the rafters for you."

"Excellent."

To Be Continued...

There was a screech from down the street, causing Laura to grip the glass of water in her hand tightly in instinct. She turned to gaze to the highway not too far away where there was now a pileup at the entrance to the on-ramp. She followed the angry gestures of the victims and watched as a car just disappeared from view.

Kids...so reckless. If they would only learn to slow down and appreciate the world around them.

She knew that was almost as feasible as asking NASA if she could fly their shuttle tomorrow. She sighed as she returned her attention back to her dessert. It was then she realized she had shards of glass in her grasp and blood was dripping freely from inflicted wounds on her left palm. The table was soaked with water and glass as well.

"Damn it." she cursed silently under her breath. She glanced around furtively to see if anyone had noticed yet. She caught Becky's attention and motioned for her to come closer. She watched Becky's face as she realized what had happened and silenced the rising shock in the woman's voice.

"Please, just get me a towel or something. And a few bandages. The wounds are superficial."

Becky nodded and did so, returning minutes later with an old, but clean rag and a medical kit. Behind her, another employee was there with a table pan to clean up the mess. After they were finished, Laura thanked Becky for the help, paid her bill and left a tip for both Becky and the busser.

She left the diner, heading toward the car wreckage scene. Already several squad cars, a firetruck ,and two ambulances were there and tending to the victims. By now, the rain had ceased, having long since disappeared.

She kept to the side, studying the area carefully. Pulling out her camera she always carried with her, she snapped a few pictures of the people being assisted, and of the scene. The local newspaper would appreciate the submissions for the morning's paper.

She was about to leave and return home for the night when she noticed the treads burns in the asphalt, leading onto the highway. She followed the direction they had come from and realized that down that way a few miles was a high school.

Raze... she thought to herself, always causing trouble aren't you? She wasn't sure how she knew that it was him, but instinct told her that the control required to maneuver any vehicle, avoid all these other unsuspecting motorists, and still make it onto the highway in one piece required more than a Natural's abilities. You're getting careless Raze.

She turned and walked down the street, studying the world around her with renewed interest.

Collin nodded, and walked out. He slid into the drivers seat of the large German saloon, and backed out of the spot. The lot was open in front of him, and perfectly level and straight. The thing he didn't like about the brand was they never put a standard in any car. They had some of the best automatic transmissions ever, but still, they weren't as fun. However, this didn't stop him from matting the petal, and letting the German power house rip, the tires spinning as they coped from the massive tourqe laid down by the supercharged V8.

He rolled slowly to a stop infront of the resteraunt, and exited, moving to sit in the passenger's seat right as Sian exited the building.

Collin nodded, but stayed in the waiting room of the ER. He watched as Sian walked off, and found a comfortable seat, and grabbed a magazine. He wanted to know exactly what happened, and he had the patience, and ability to wait, long enough to outlast boredom. He looked around, and then let his eyes settle on the door, waiting for the first patient from whatever Sian had been called in for, to arrive.

Collin watched, not showing his awe, as the medical teams worked. He smiled as one girl was moved to another ward, stable and likely to live, and silently prayed when one was declared dead on arrival. He watched as Sian set to work, skillfully mending that which she could, and using unorthodox, yet effective methods in others. Death, the end of one circle, a physical circle, but the beginning of the soul’s circle, surrounded him. Yet he was at ease. Those that passed were most likely heading to a better place. He smiled at the thought, he was mentally at peace.

Someone next to him spoke, a police officer or something. He looked over, and nodded politely at the officer. However, a polite nod was not to be mistaken for approval or happiness. Collin held a deep disdain for the police officers of the city, and had no problem showing it. However, this, Collin had mentally noted, was not the place, nor the time to start a conflict. Instead, he simply answered the question. “No, I just work here.” It was a bit of a lie, and a bit of the truth. Collin had once joke that everything he said was the truth, or at least a version of it.

He watched as another young body was wheeled by. He heard voices off to the side, a group of fire fighters talking about the accident. Apparently, someone had been driving a bit more aggressively than they could handle, and had caused the accident. Probably a ricer, or one of those other punks that think they are fast, Collin thought to himself. No doubt it would be someone who would show up at the races. He was now set. He would be going to the races tonight, and would be sure to be ready to hand out a beating if necessary. He nodded to the police officer that had asked him if he knew anyone, and walked out of the ER, and out to the main area. He handed a receptionist a quickly scribbled note, and asked it to be given to Sian. I’ll be there was all it read, and with that, he left, ready for the run back home. He had preparations that needed to be made, and like all nights, before racing, he would want to meditate.

The barely perceptible note tucked into the edge of Laura's door revealed a single line of text:Sanctuary- 12am. She glanced around, although she knew she was alone as she stood outside her apartment, room 232 in a middle class neighborhood. Pulling out her key rings, she selected the appropriate key and entered her apartment, locking the door behind her. She left her bag on the kitchen counter and began to strip her clothing off as she headed toward her bathroom. Several minutes later, the sound of water running in the shower could be heard.

Fifteen minutes later, Laura reemerged out of the bathroom, a thick towel wrapped about her body and drying her hair with another towel. She walked over to the phone and checked for any messages. There was only one, some new business guy wanting her to help put them on the small business map of the city. She moved to her kitchen as she listened to the recording and poured a little food into the cat's bowl, instantly drawing the feline from another room like a magnet. She crouched down to stroke the cat's fur for a few moments, then went and got dressed into her night clothes, a plain black tank top, dark blue figure fitting jeans and a pair of somewhat old, but still good running shoes. Casting her gaze to her bedside clock, she noted it was getting near eight in the evening.

She brushed her hair, letting it fall in straight waves around her face to her shoulders. She'd kill a little time in the "legal" Haven, and then head down to the illegal Haven below, known and accessible by only those who were Gifted. She was careful though to remain as neutral as possible in these gang wars that often filled the Underground. Oddly enough, as fierce as they got sometimes, the Naturals never found out, and remained oblivious to the pulsating life of the Underground. Laura took the note from earlier, and tossed it into the flash-can, which instantly incinerated the paper to ashes. It was a precautionary tactic of hers, leaving no trail or evidence of hers, and other's secret lives.

"Bye sweetheart." Laura called out to the feline that now sat upon the countertop, licking its paws and watching her move about. The cat merely mewed softly before returning to its habitual hygeine habits.

The door closed and locked behind her and she was on her way to the club. Yet another night of observation, careful watch of the subtle movements of the underground. She never took pictures though, for she wasn't stupid. They could easily compromise any effort of her kind to remain safely hidden.

The dark room in the apartment was silent, the only light comming from the burning tips of two incense sticks. Collin sat on the carpeted floor, wearing a pair of black loose fitting pants, eyes closed, deep in thought. He was totally at peace, one hundred percent ballanced. His mind was on a new plane of existance, one far away.

He had been in meditation for well over three hours, and all at once, stood up, his movements quick, a foot sweeping low over the ground, tapping the incense sticks, snubbing them out. His hand reached out in the darkness, and grabbed a shirt. He pulled it on, and changed out of the black pants and into a set of jeans. He looked outside as the sun kissed the horizon, and nodded. He grabbed a set of keys, the keys to his Datsun, and a pair of aviators, and stepped out of the apartment.

A few hours later, the day fully night now, Collin was in a parking lot. The lot was, to say the least, full to the brim, of tuned up cars. Massive tourqe muscle machines parked next to nimble, powerfull, super tuners, and in one corner, bikers were showing off their stunts. In one corner, RX-7s, Supras, Skylines, and other powerful high end Asian performance vehicles sat, some trailor queens, some dyno kings, but all race ready. On the other side, the "no replacement for displacement" types sat, Saleens, 'Vettes, and a few Vipers were throwing revs, letting superchargers wail under revs.

Collin found a space inbetween a black STi and a red turbo charged Integra Type R, and turned off the car, walking away. He admired a few turboed Civics having a blow off contest, bouncing their motors off the rev limiters, seeing who could get the desired 'psssht' first. He stopped later to watch two bikers show off, and once more as a Nissan 300ZX ripped on its tires, filling the air with the acrid smoke of burnt rubber, the exhaust roaring as the car simply refused to gain traction.

However, none of that was what Collin was looking for. Instead, he walked into a coffee shop in the same lot, and purchased a fancy sort of tea, and then found a small table outside, and waited for Sian.

After the first speaker had given her address to the assembled politicians and businessmen, Simon rose to his feet and moved onto the stage. "Assembled leaders of the free world, I thank you for your time." He glanced around the room. "Assembled in this hall are the most powerful men and women on Earth. Journalists, world leaders, millionaires. We hold the fate of this Earth in our hands, and it is time that we realised it."

He slowly began to mold and shape their thoughts, and as he did, their minds became his tools. Careful, careful... "Humanity is under threat, ladies and gentlemen. Not from outside, but from within. It is our own flesh and blood, our own people, that now seek to destroy us." Simon gestured dramatically. "I refer, of course, to those twisted monstrosities that first appeared 15 years ago..."

And then, by a prearranged signal, the curtains behind him were raised and his agents pulled out a wheeled cage. Within sat a drooling, slathering man with one leering eye, hands twisted like claws and legs splayed grotesquely. Simon smiled secretly. It had been a pleasure to break the beast. "Many of you may have thought that this threat to our dominance had been crushed by the concerted acts of our people. But how would you explain that I found thismonster roaming the streets of a small village?"

There was no outbreak of surprise or alarm. The people in the audience accepted what this wonderful man was telling them without question. Allowing himself a real smile, Simon held out his hands. "Is it, perhaps, that you wish for these monsters to spread? To breed and carry on their taint, unchecked?" He answered his own question. "No, no, a thousand times no."

"But at the same time, we must recognise those that can be of use to us, those which can be trusted not to abuse their power." Simon glanced up at the rafters, and smiled at Anastasia once more. "Those which can be trained and assimilated into human society." The man paused. "It is to this end that I propose an International Identification Scheme, which will have the power to find, and either control or eliminate, these...abnormal people."

"And to that end, I step forward now, ready to put Omega Corporation and its Personal Security Forces into action to combat this menace." Simon D'Arquis stepped forward and held out his hands, an expression of deep suffering appearing on his face. "I am sure that God will understand the steps which we must take to save His people. The question is, will we take those steps?" He glanced around this large, but amazingly private, meeting. "The choice is yours."

The assembled Leaders -- controlled and manipulated by their fear, their bigotry, and by the most powerful hypnotist in the universe -- could do nothing but loudly acclaim him.

~~

Simon took Anastasia's hand when they had a quiet moment, and smiled. "Did you enjoy your show, my dear?"

"Those bugs didn't know what they've done." She answered, adjusting her dress. Anastasia enjoyed her power and the benefits it brought. What she hated was the stripping naked it entailed. It seemed somewhat... improper.

"Now, now. Those are our future servants you're talking about." He kissed her wrist. "And I do believe that tomorrow I need to meet the press and inform the world of what this conference has decided."

"Tomorrow?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why not tonight?"

He answered by wrapping her in his arms and kissing her. "Because we have other plans for tonight, Stacey..."

"Mmm. Power being its usual aphrodisiac, Simon?" She put her hand on his chest and separated from him. "Or do you have something else in mind?"

"You'll see, my dear."

[OOC: Game over. This RP will be restarted with new RPers due to irreconcilable differences. Roania, Tanara, and Gorgamin have been blacklisted and will no longer have any rights to the AltUniv. Watch this space for further details.]