Scene 9 - October 28th
Interior MLED Compound, Late Afternoon
Quinn Kaufmann
Holly had been an endless font of costume ideas - it wasn’t surprising that she was creative, she had an incredible artistic eye - but none of them had been possible. Most of her ideas would have required far more time than I had, some of them being completely impossible for someone without her illusory abilities. And while she said that she intended to go to the party too - for the first time, in her case - and would be happy to maintain an illusion for me, I had to decline. It just wasn’t the same as making the costume myself, I had explained, and she hadn’t argued.
Hypnos had had a more realistic idea - one that would have me purchasing a generic costume and then making some alterations. It was both reasonable for the time I had and acceptable for my standards. After agreeing to his idea, I took my leave of them and went into the adults’ lounge, where I found Canaveral and Vulcan sipping beers and watching a game of football. Canaveral was half-costumed, his cowl pulled down to reveal his face, and Vulcan didn’t have much of a costume to begin with - he was in a button-down shirt which, at the moment, was left undone enough to show off his collarbones.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, hesitating in the doorway and trying not to blush seeing Vulcan - the man really did have jawline like an anvil, and showing off his collarbones like that just wasn’t fair. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Canaveral paused the game and waved me in anyway. “You’re not interrupting - this is recorded. Just don’t tell us the score and you’re fine.”
“Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to, I don’t watch football.” I entered and, still a little anxious - I had only been in the shared lounge space before - took a seat on the unoccupied couch.
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“Care for a beer?” Canaveral - Abraham? - asked.
When I nodded, he began to rise, heading towards a cooler sitting in the small kitchen area. I forestalled him by opening it myself using my telekinesis, and floating a bottle to me. He grinned as I popped off the cap and took a sip.
“I’m a little jealous,” he admitted. “My powers don’t have that kind of mundane utility. Even Vulcan here has a leg up on me - he can keep his beer as cool as he wants.” Then he seemed to have a realization. “You haven’t met Vulcan yet, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. He was on console when I first came, I think.”
“Well let me introduce you. Vulcan, this is Quinn, or Newton. They’re a recently-empowered metahuman who hasn’t made their mind up about heroing yet.”
“A pleasure,” Vulcan rumbled. His voice was quiet, soft-spoken, but remarkably deep. It sent a shiver down my spine - seriously, he was too much!
“You turn into metal, right?” I asked. “And control heat?”
He waggled his hand in a ‘sort-of’ motion. “I can absorb and project it, but it’s not complete control. And when I’m not in metal form it’s much more limited - my body won’t let me absorb or project enough heat that I would harm myself, so my limits are lower in human form. There’s also only so much I can have absorbed, and I can theoretically run out of heat, but... well, I do a lot of training to expand my capacity, and usually run about half full so I’m prepared to either absorb or project as much as necessary.”
I nodded. “I’ve got something similar, I think,” I told him. “The costume that activated my powers seems to insulate me from the backlash to an extent, so I can use a lot more force when I’m wearing it. When I’m not, I can’t do any more than I normally can physically - I can just do it at a distance. With the costume, I can use way more force. Messing with my ESP is easier, too.”
“Do you know what your upper limit is, other than the backlash?” Vulcan asked.
“No. I’m sure I have one, but whatever it is, it’s well above what I was willing to test on my own.”
Canaveral nodded. “Smart. It’s better not to test your limits without safety precautions.”