After the incident in the diner, Ravela kept her head down. Concentrating on herself, her work in the academy, becoming a better partner to Kahli, the home she was building, and the two people who wouldn’t allow her to ignore them. Safora and Laena kept showing up every weekend and continued their practice. Laena also took an interest in the handiwork, while Safora mostly endured those lessons as a necessary part of their learning to use their powers properly.
The progress achieved through Ravela’s efforts began to show on all fronts. Spring came and went, while Ravela only passively watched the goings on in the City. She didn’t involve herself in the gang war or the Bomber’s efforts to stamp out those same gangs. She left these tasks entirely to Agent Buster and the FBI.
Ravela, however, noted a rapid increase in reported Powered showing up in the region. Some of them committed crimes with the abilities they’ve been given, while others were reported on by friends and family without ever having done anything with their powers.
The government had changed the approach to the issue by releasing the people they had gathered from their custody unless they wished to remain where they had been so far, or their parents permitted the continued custody of those students that developed powers until they had proper control of them. Ravela had wondered if those were mere words or if that declaration by the government would be honored.
Then, one beautiful Saturday in mid-June, Laena and Safora reported to her that Troy Han and Beth Nams had returned to class this week. They were excited about the news, and admittedly so was Ravela.
Ravela currently sat on her front porch in a nice suspended chair, slightly swinging back and forth as she enjoyed a cold bottle of her favorite soda.
She really gets used to just minding her business and allowing the world around her to take care of the madness.
‘You’d rather hide and be lazy than go out there and face your foes? That’s pathetic.’ Her inner peace was interrupted by a scornful remark.
The month of no action beyond training had taken a toll on her companion, who was all but scratching and walking up the walls inside her skull.
“You’re so restless. I thought you’d be much more controlled. You behave more like an animal that needs to devour some prey than a sophisticated warrior that you pretend to be. Where is your control? Where is your inner balance?” Ravela said aloud before taking another swig from her bottle, enjoying the fizzy sparkles on her tongue. “Besides, we don’t gain anything from running around town chasing criminals without a plan. I told you the base comes first, everything else second.”
A growl rumbled through her mind. ‘You sure take your sweet time with building our hideout. You could start pouring the concrete right now. We’d be done by the time the girls go on summer vacation.’ Her companion aggrieved herself.
“Fine, fine. Let’s say I do that now that the girls are still there. Where would be the surprise when they come back after summer break? Don’t you want them to be awestruck at the marvel we create while they are gone on vacation?” Ravela said, proclaiming that she’d stick to her plans on this.
‘Why do you care to make such impressions for these kids? Just because they have powers? I do not understand your need to awe these children.’ Came the usual response.
“Of course you don’t. Have you ever considered that building the hideout while they’re gone leaves us the room to keep secrets?” Ravela asked rhetorically.
‘Like those brats can’t clearly see the enormous crater you dug out, you fool! Tsk!’ Came the so-often last response of her companion, fleeing back into the world inside her mind. Ravela liked to think that when her companion went silent, she was diving into a realm of memories, sifting through them in search of an angle to convince the stubborn other half in control of the body. She sometimes envied her for possibly having access to all their memories. On the occasions she inquired about this theory, Ravela never got a straight answer, but she got a distinct feeling that her imagination wasn’t all wrong.
Her home had become a furnished dream. But it still missed the fresh water and electricity supply. This meant despite being done and finished from the ground level upward, Ravela was still sleeping in a stinking motel. With a long sigh, she hopped out of her chair.
“I guess that’s that. Time to finish the basement.” Ravela declared while picking up the gold bars she had brought from the barn for this momentous occasion. She wanted a direct way to take energy from the generator she wished to build to supply her entire home and hideout with power, and gold was the best conduit. Her companion, in a rare show of cooperation, had given her the idea of a beautiful meditation circle engraved into the floor tiles of her basement bedroom, allowing it to connect beneath the ground to the hideout generator without rousing suspicions from anyone who may find her basement.
Just a few more exams, just a few more improvements, and just a bit more training, she’d get back to Pliada City when she was good and ready, and not a moment sooner, Ravela promised herself.
She arrived in the basement at the small induction smelter she had created. A device that allowed her to work wonders through her telekinesis and innate energy-based ability. Sitting down crosslegged in front of the smelter, Ravela hovered a gold bar into the device. As the smelter glowed to life and the gold bar began to heat slowly, an enamored smile snuck onto her face.
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Life was a stream, a rousing river, and it had been a while since Morbolfr felt its pull so vividly. The courthouse was abuzz with people going about their day, flowing in and out in busy obliviousness. The view from his favorite gallery vantage point afforded him insights and passive observance. It was something most people didn’t value enough: standing outside looking in.
He was no longer a bystander but swimming like all the others. There were, of course, the currents at work that he had set in motion, and he wasn’t neglecting steering them to his ultimate goal.
His plans had been derailed by the arrival of new pieces on the field, but he ultimately bent them to his favor, one way or the other. His client of the day arrived in the manner he had instructed, on his best behavior, friendly, personable, charming even. Morbolfr always found it hilarious how personable his people were when they wanted to be.
The long silence of Michael Manus, he still found the coined name from before more fitting, added greatly to smoothing over the bumps in the road of his plans.
But with the Bomber now working for him essentially, he managed to get the plan back on track to achieve his endgame.
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“Good morning, Norry. Are you ready for court?” He greeted the man from his Clan who had gotten stupidly caught as a lookout in one of the robberies his kin had conducted. While the others escaped, some cops had just snatched the scrawn kid on the street corner.
“Yes, Mr. Krone.” The young man answered nervously.
“Relax, we’ll sort this mix-up right out, don’t you worry. Now, remember to smile and stick to the script. Judge Houn is all about first impressions.” Morbolfr laid his arm over the shoulder of the young man and walked him to the right courtroom.
“Certainly, Mr Krone.” He liked this kid. Getting caught the first time was never easy; he had done everything right. His Clan was proud of him, and once he returned home, they would show him just how well he had done.
Morbolfr’s days went on as usual while the situation of Winny’s and Beorg’s Clan slowly worsened. Soon, the final strike would come, and his Clan would absorb the others.
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Dr. Ito walked with the director of the museum through the exhibition hall.
“So, as you can see, the artifacts for your exhibition are all accounted for and ready to be put up the way you asked. Now, there remains the matter of displaying your personal works.” The director let the sentence trail off, and his assistant behind him and the other museum staff were nervous about her quality of work. “We prepare a separate sidearm for your painting to give them an uninterrupted spotlight. I’m sure this will be agreeable.”
Himiko smiled. “As per page seventeen, clause 5, subsection d of the agreement between your institution and my person,” She paused and waved to her assistant to elaborate on that.
“Page 17, clause 5, subsection D clearly states that the placement of her works is with the artifacts and in the order she dictates to ensure the proper historical context and appreciation of the artwork with the period-appropriate artifacts.”
One of the old professors coughed. “That’s preposterous. We haven’t even seen any of your ‘art’ to ensure it even belongs in these halls. Just because you found the artifacts, doesn’t mean we-”
“Enough of this, Professor Gnow!” The director jumped in, panicked. “We don’t want to offend or sponsor.”
“If you feel like protesting the arrangement of the agreement, feel free to do so.” Dr. Ito said, giving a small handwave to her assistant, who picked up on her intended message.
“Naturally, Dr. Ito is more than willing to, as per Page 24, clause 27, revoke the donation and receive it back in full if terms of this agreement are broken.” Her assistant helpfully supplied.
“I am more than willing to have my artifacts taken from storage and from current examination rooms at your earliest convenience, Professor Gnow if you feel my art insults you so much without having seen it. How about right now? My people can be here to collect my property within the hour.”
The professor had been so eager to study her artifact himself that Himiko’s willingness to break her tents and move on intimidated him. She could see it in his eyes and the deflating posture.
“Now, now, I’m sure there is no need for that. It was merely a suggestion.” The director hurriedly jumped in. “But if you would bring in your works soon, it will reinsure my antsy staff that nothing is amiss with them.”
Dr. Ito nodded. “All in good time. It is still a month till the grand opening, so don’t worry. I will make sure they will all be here on time, and they won’t disappoint either you or your staff.”
The director looked like he had eaten a lemon but nodded along. His staff looked crestfallen at the thought of displaying some rich woman’s works in their hallowed hall, which may damage their credibility as a museum all over some money, however much it may be.
Himiko didn’t concern herself with her doubters. They’ve been proven pointless creatures ever since she was young. The exhibition wasn’t for them or the people, and neither were her paintings. She hoped to attract the one, she hesitated, the person to whom these things would matter the most, even more than herself.
She felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of again meeting her among the artifacts. How would she appear? At night, in the crowd with the others? Would she seek out Himiko or ignore her entirely to walk among the history in solitude contemplation?
The trails of her became thin air after the incident in Gradjia. Michael Manus’ interview in the Tribute had somewhat caught her eye, but it felt more like a diversion than anything of substance.
“I am happy with the location and state of the wing. I am glad that the money I donated for this occasion was put to good use and the museum was restored to its proper state. It came out genuinely marvelous.” She turned to the director with a sigh. “Sadly, work calls, and I must depart. Director, doctors, and professors, I wish you a good day. Until we meet again.”
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Laena studied Troy Han’s frame from the side. There was no apparent difference in the boy. His roommate had reported that he had grown to a and looked almost starved, that his arms looked weirdly long, and that he had been taller than some of the adult teachers. She had found that hard to believe, and even more so now that she saw him almost unchanged.
Had he gotten taller? Yes, Laena concluded, but just a smidge and his shoulder got way broader. He didn’t look thin or starving but healthy. She had been watching him together with Safora, ever since he returned to school.
Her friend leaned over to her. “Beth and Troy have been joined at the hip ever since they returned, don’t you think.”
Laena considered her friend's words for a moment. “You’re not wrong. They probably got to know each other better wherever they’ve been.”
She thought about it some more. “Beth also doesn’t smell like a flower shop anymore. At least not to the extent of filling an entire room. Do you think they learned to control whatever abilities they got before coming back?”
“I mean, controlling your abilities takes way longer than four months. I sometimes still feel uncertain, having to make sure that I am not currently floating.”
Laena couldn’t exactly turn off her eyes without looking stupid, but her handle on things four months after getting her powers had been not exactly what she would call great. “You think there will be mishaps with them?”
Safora leaned back and looked into the lush green tree. “Don’t know. I am just glad the little creep that can turn invisible hasn’t returned. I couldn’t change clothes with that weasel back in school.”
She shivered a little at the thought. “Yeah, no, I wouldn’t want that creep back on campus either, and we weren’t even in the changing room when he did that stuff.”
They both looked back at the small clique of Powered, which were all sticking together on campus.
There were three new members in the group. “You think they had to prove they had powers to join their little group?”
“Probably, I mean, they may just be the friend of the others that still hang out with them, but they sure don’t act like they’re just friends with one of the group,” Safora observed.
“Yes, I think so too.” Laena agreed. “Especially since Troy doesn’t seem to be as tense around them as he is around his other classmates.”
Her friend nodded. “That’s another indicator, yes. They must have either awakened recently or hidden their abilities for a long time. I had no idea there were others here who also managed to hide the whole time.”
Laena tilted her head contemplatively. “What do you think their abilities are? I mean the new ones. The others we already know, after all.”
Safora pursed her lips, twirling her hair. “Hm, that chubby girl looks mighty shy. She looks really uncomfortable with hanging out with the group. It doesn’t give me an indicator of her powers, but she probably hates being in the spotlight, and her new friends are nothing but a spotlight.”
“Come on, the worst thing that could happen is that you’re entirely wrong.” Laena smiled. “Play a little. Guess her power.”
Her friend put a thick strand of her hair and made a mustache by laying it over her upper lip, keeping it there like she sometimes did with pens while she tried to come up with a cool idea for a power. “Maybe,” Her eyes narrowed. “she can jump high.”
Laena laughed at her friend's struggle to think of a cool power for the shy, chubby girl.
“Hey, don’t laugh! It’s as good a guess as any. I bet you don’t have an idea for her either.” Safora lamented.
She stood up from the bench and turned to her friend. “Isn't it obvious? She probably can read minds. That’s why she looks so uncomfortable and shy.”
Safora looked to the side in a sour mood. “Fine, that’s much better.” She admitted with a pout. “Oh god, what if you’re right!?” Safora exclaimed.
They both turned back to look at the girl.
Laena narrows her eyes. “It was just a random pick at an amazing power, but what if…” She thought really hard about something really mean and unnecessary about the girl in question, but the girl didn’t seem to flinch or react any differently at all.
“If she can hear our thoughts, she sure hides it well for someone so self-conscious and uncomfortable with the limelight.” Laena declared, turning back to her friend. “Guess we’re in the clear.”
Safora furrowed her brows. “And how would you kno-” Then understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, wow, you just thought something incredibly rude and mean about her, didn’t you?”
Laena shrugged. “I mean, how else would we test it?”
Safora opened her mouth in shock, and then she punched Laena on her arm. “Nooo, that’s so awful! What if she could read your thoughts?! That’s so awful. Don’t you ever do that again as a test, you barbarian!”
“OUCH!” Laena yelped out. “Hey, stop hitting me! That hurt!”
Laena ran away, chased by her friend.