I will make the first post when I know you are aware of this thread.
Sweet, can't wait. 
Little is known of Dia Hawkins. Her files exist in her home town only, which is also known to a surprisingly few amount of people outside of said town. There is nothing to suggest that she caused the supposed "attack" on her eighteenth birthday, and in fact the strange geometric shapes and torn up gravel and dirt had so little explanation that they were cleaned and covered up in a single night. No one, save for the authorities that found it and Dia herself, will remember that night.
It is a nightmare for Dia. It plagues her even to this day, and no sleep aid exists to ease her dreams. No amount of alcohol will drown the guilt and fear she felt that night, and every night after that for years. Her will to live is fueled by some semblance of revenge, though it's certainly lost its edge with the last few years. No one so committed to logical thought and philosophy would be so blindly motivated by vengeance alone. Even though she's left behind her own past and the nightmare's have ceased, her guilt will never fade entirely. She enjoyed the new nomadic life she led, never staying in one place, never making friends, never going very far up the social ladder beyond street rat. She didn't mind though. She is the composer in her own life.
And the rustling of dirt and leaves is her musical ensemble.
She arrived in town only moments ago, a quiet and exhausted foot-traveler, one of the last of her kind. Who but a fool travels by anything but car these days? People are daunted by the concept of a mere one hour walk. This was one of her more aggravated rants about society that she occasionally blathered on about while drunk. She didn't drink often, but sometimes when she walked into a town or city and that melancholy hit, she felt like she had no choice. This was not one of those times. In fact, she was in a better mood than normal, and opted for a trip to Burger King instead. The beautiful blue sky was coming fresh off a rain storm, so colors and shades were vibrant and contrasting. The smell of freshly fallen water and soft fir trees overrode the smog of traffic and stone. The breeze was just enough to stir the grass and give relief to the humid but gentle heat. It was a great day, one that even she would not bog down with incessant griping and alcohol. A nearby park, simplistic and riddled with benches and picnic tables, looked like the perfect spot for lunch. She really had no idea of the time, or what day it was, or what town she was in...and this was just how she liked it.
An anonymous entity in a town full of anonymous entities.
It is a nightmare for Dia. It plagues her even to this day, and no sleep aid exists to ease her dreams. No amount of alcohol will drown the guilt and fear she felt that night, and every night after that for years. Her will to live is fueled by some semblance of revenge, though it's certainly lost its edge with the last few years. No one so committed to logical thought and philosophy would be so blindly motivated by vengeance alone. Even though she's left behind her own past and the nightmare's have ceased, her guilt will never fade entirely. She enjoyed the new nomadic life she led, never staying in one place, never making friends, never going very far up the social ladder beyond street rat. She didn't mind though. She is the composer in her own life.
And the rustling of dirt and leaves is her musical ensemble.
She arrived in town only moments ago, a quiet and exhausted foot-traveler, one of the last of her kind. Who but a fool travels by anything but car these days? People are daunted by the concept of a mere one hour walk. This was one of her more aggravated rants about society that she occasionally blathered on about while drunk. She didn't drink often, but sometimes when she walked into a town or city and that melancholy hit, she felt like she had no choice. This was not one of those times. In fact, she was in a better mood than normal, and opted for a trip to Burger King instead. The beautiful blue sky was coming fresh off a rain storm, so colors and shades were vibrant and contrasting. The smell of freshly fallen water and soft fir trees overrode the smog of traffic and stone. The breeze was just enough to stir the grass and give relief to the humid but gentle heat. It was a great day, one that even she would not bog down with incessant griping and alcohol. A nearby park, simplistic and riddled with benches and picnic tables, looked like the perfect spot for lunch. She really had no idea of the time, or what day it was, or what town she was in...and this was just how she liked it.
An anonymous entity in a town full of anonymous entities.
Cody Wesson was a wanderer by nature--and by necessity. The turmoil of his past threatened to catch up with him at every turn, be it in the guise of authority figures doing what they were paid to do, or innocent civilians doing their "civic duty" yet caught in the crossfire of freedom and safety. All of Cody's good intentions had left him paranoid of even the most innocent bystander, wondering if they recognized him and would call in his presence to the local authorities. Even if the cause he was fighting for was so that people could fight back. So what if he had been responsible for a few explosions here or there--some people needed to see the light of truth.
And these days he couldn't be too careful to keep a low profile. So he'd played the life of a bum--a well-traveled, hygienically-conscious bum, always on the alert and perhaps a little crazy to boot. But he wasn't going to think of the latter.
Still he chose where he slept carefully; but beggars couldn't be choosers, and the park had looked so inviting.... The park bench upon which he slumbered, was not the softest bed in the world, but compared to the lengthy drive he'd made recently, it beat sitting on a sweaty, sticky leather seat. The cobalt blue motorcycle he had rode in on was propped against his bench, well within reach. Though he would almost pity the man who tried to steal it; after he shot him, probably several times. Unless he needed to ration his bullets and not draw a riot squad from wherever they were lurking.
Cody shifted a little in his sleep, his tousled brown hair flopping over his face. It wasn't often that one caught him asleep and unaware of his surroundings, and he was careful of where he slept and for how long, but even he couldn't deny his body its desperate need for sleep. Thus he was at his most relaxed, though his index fingers twitched involuntarily with his dream of shooting. He never remembered his dreams, never tried to, so it was with a start and a yelp that he awoke and promptly fell off the park bench, landing solidly on his side and on his firearm.
"Ow," he muttered groggily. He climbed back onto the park bench, wondering if it might be worth it to part with some cash for a decent night's sleep with a real bed. But the paranoia kicked in again, and involuntarily he scanned the area around him for danger. He didn't see anything immediately suspicious, but it niggled at him enough to keep him wary and tense.
And these days he couldn't be too careful to keep a low profile. So he'd played the life of a bum--a well-traveled, hygienically-conscious bum, always on the alert and perhaps a little crazy to boot. But he wasn't going to think of the latter.
Still he chose where he slept carefully; but beggars couldn't be choosers, and the park had looked so inviting.... The park bench upon which he slumbered, was not the softest bed in the world, but compared to the lengthy drive he'd made recently, it beat sitting on a sweaty, sticky leather seat. The cobalt blue motorcycle he had rode in on was propped against his bench, well within reach. Though he would almost pity the man who tried to steal it; after he shot him, probably several times. Unless he needed to ration his bullets and not draw a riot squad from wherever they were lurking.
Cody shifted a little in his sleep, his tousled brown hair flopping over his face. It wasn't often that one caught him asleep and unaware of his surroundings, and he was careful of where he slept and for how long, but even he couldn't deny his body its desperate need for sleep. Thus he was at his most relaxed, though his index fingers twitched involuntarily with his dream of shooting. He never remembered his dreams, never tried to, so it was with a start and a yelp that he awoke and promptly fell off the park bench, landing solidly on his side and on his firearm.
"Ow," he muttered groggily. He climbed back onto the park bench, wondering if it might be worth it to part with some cash for a decent night's sleep with a real bed. But the paranoia kicked in again, and involuntarily he scanned the area around him for danger. He didn't see anything immediately suspicious, but it niggled at him enough to keep him wary and tense.
She ordered several whoppers on arrival. Her bottomless appetite demanded it, and it was always an issue with her physical being she could never understand. No matter whether she used her powers or not on any given day, she had to eat three or four full meals a day, and she could never gain any weight from it. She hypothesized long ago that it was her powers that had increased her metabolism to astronomical heights, but never figured out why it never changed, even after months of not even manipulating the smallest piece of matter.
"That'll be uhh...twenty-one seventy-nine," said the lanky teenager at the counter. His breath smelled of nicotine and his eyes screamed of a commercialism-induced stupor. Yeah, Dia thought, this guy's job is strictly for buying his next iPad. She despised the tired, annoyed look on his face and the plainly false smile that screamed employee policy. Perhaps it was both smug and selfish that she would so openly compare her life to those around her, but she held no social status or ambitions anyway, so did it matter? She paid and leaned on one of the nearby tables, waiting as her stomach pressed the assault on her attitude. It was glorious to finally hold the bag and smell the four burgers, two large fries, and the biggest drink cup they had. She left the unholy spawn of fast food and made her way back through the streets to the park, the glittering morning dew almost begging Dia to walk barefoot.
She walked through the front gates, black cast iron that squealed when they opened. The slightly overgrown, brick pathway led her straight through the center of the path and straight past what appeared to be a homeless man. She stopped by his bench and looked down at him, trapped in a fitful sleep. She dug out one of her whoppers and laid it on the bench where he slept as carefully as she could. She saw the homeless as a product of an unforgiving and competitive society. Surely, she preferred capitalism to socialism or other even less reputable alternatives, but there was no shortage of bad to go with the good. She took three steps away and he promptly yelled out in a short panic and tumbled to the ground. She slowly turned her head to look at him and stifled some sort of amused smart ass comment she was imagining in her mind.
"Did I wake you? My bad. I gave you that cheeseburger though, so hopefully that makes up for it. Later!" She turned back to walk away, intending to go several dozen feet away towards a park bench.
"That'll be uhh...twenty-one seventy-nine," said the lanky teenager at the counter. His breath smelled of nicotine and his eyes screamed of a commercialism-induced stupor. Yeah, Dia thought, this guy's job is strictly for buying his next iPad. She despised the tired, annoyed look on his face and the plainly false smile that screamed employee policy. Perhaps it was both smug and selfish that she would so openly compare her life to those around her, but she held no social status or ambitions anyway, so did it matter? She paid and leaned on one of the nearby tables, waiting as her stomach pressed the assault on her attitude. It was glorious to finally hold the bag and smell the four burgers, two large fries, and the biggest drink cup they had. She left the unholy spawn of fast food and made her way back through the streets to the park, the glittering morning dew almost begging Dia to walk barefoot.
She walked through the front gates, black cast iron that squealed when they opened. The slightly overgrown, brick pathway led her straight through the center of the path and straight past what appeared to be a homeless man. She stopped by his bench and looked down at him, trapped in a fitful sleep. She dug out one of her whoppers and laid it on the bench where he slept as carefully as she could. She saw the homeless as a product of an unforgiving and competitive society. Surely, she preferred capitalism to socialism or other even less reputable alternatives, but there was no shortage of bad to go with the good. She took three steps away and he promptly yelled out in a short panic and tumbled to the ground. She slowly turned her head to look at him and stifled some sort of amused smart ass comment she was imagining in her mind.
"Did I wake you? My bad. I gave you that cheeseburger though, so hopefully that makes up for it. Later!" She turned back to walk away, intending to go several dozen feet away towards a park bench.
The lady's sudden arrival startled Cody; the offer of a burger, more so. For a long moment, Cody didn't move as he wrestled with his conscience. His surprise demanded that he fight or shoot something. But the charity of a burger, one he'd somehow managed to avoid landing on, prevented him from reaching for one of the pistols under his jacket.
By the time he recovered enough to thank her, the woman was already walking away. His stomach growled then and he looked the burger over warily. It was still wrapped. He was more surprised that it was still warm. He held it in his hands a minute longer, staring at it. It was the first time someone had shown him compassion, had given him something without expecting anything in return, and the feeling it evoked in him was uncomfortable. He couldn't compete with that; even he had a price he expected from others when, or if, he did anything for them. It was a new experience and he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.
Rather than think, he bit into the burger and nearly inhaled it in his delight. He'd eaten a meal sometime previous, but there had been a long gap in between, and he was hungry. Still, he had manners and he wasn't a complete jerk, so he wrapped up the foil and sauntered towards a garbage bin nearer the lady who had given him food.
Tossing the foil into the bin, he paused to study her surreptitiously. Judging by the amount of food she ate, she had either just starved herself, or her metabolism was top-notch. He wasn't sure which, and it wasn't his place to comment anyway. He waited until she was nearly finished before heading back to his park bench.
On the way he paused in front of her and ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Ah, thank you, for the burger. Um, if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know. I have a motorcycle so if you need a lift somewhere, I can get you there." He offered a hesitant smile, trying to look less shady. He was a decent guy, after all; he just didn't have a whole lot going for him at the moment. Absentmindedly, he adjusted his leather jacket, not realizing that the sun might perhaps glance off one of the revolvers at his waist.
By the time he recovered enough to thank her, the woman was already walking away. His stomach growled then and he looked the burger over warily. It was still wrapped. He was more surprised that it was still warm. He held it in his hands a minute longer, staring at it. It was the first time someone had shown him compassion, had given him something without expecting anything in return, and the feeling it evoked in him was uncomfortable. He couldn't compete with that; even he had a price he expected from others when, or if, he did anything for them. It was a new experience and he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.
Rather than think, he bit into the burger and nearly inhaled it in his delight. He'd eaten a meal sometime previous, but there had been a long gap in between, and he was hungry. Still, he had manners and he wasn't a complete jerk, so he wrapped up the foil and sauntered towards a garbage bin nearer the lady who had given him food.
Tossing the foil into the bin, he paused to study her surreptitiously. Judging by the amount of food she ate, she had either just starved herself, or her metabolism was top-notch. He wasn't sure which, and it wasn't his place to comment anyway. He waited until she was nearly finished before heading back to his park bench.
On the way he paused in front of her and ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Ah, thank you, for the burger. Um, if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know. I have a motorcycle so if you need a lift somewhere, I can get you there." He offered a hesitant smile, trying to look less shady. He was a decent guy, after all; he just didn't have a whole lot going for him at the moment. Absentmindedly, he adjusted his leather jacket, not realizing that the sun might perhaps glance off one of the revolvers at his waist.
She had to restrain laughter from his slightly awkward apology, but her amused smile was indication enough that she found his courtesy somewhat unnecessary. She took a swig of her soda, burped openly, and crumpled that bag up, throwing them both away. She found she was still a little hungry, but perhaps the food had not yet reached her stomach completely.
"Relax guy," she said in a good-hearted tone, reflecting her mood, "Life is hard on all of us. It's the responsibility of the rich to care for the poor. And don't worry, I'm not really going anywhere in particular. The only places I don't go are places I've already been to." She looked the guy up and down and quickly observed his eyes and movements. He seemed edgy, and this kind of open interaction was probably not normal for him. Beyond that, she made no further assumptions. She sat back down on top of the picnic table, taking a satisfying deep breath and hoping her stomach would soon settle.
"Relax guy," she said in a good-hearted tone, reflecting her mood, "Life is hard on all of us. It's the responsibility of the rich to care for the poor. And don't worry, I'm not really going anywhere in particular. The only places I don't go are places I've already been to." She looked the guy up and down and quickly observed his eyes and movements. He seemed edgy, and this kind of open interaction was probably not normal for him. Beyond that, she made no further assumptions. She sat back down on top of the picnic table, taking a satisfying deep breath and hoping her stomach would soon settle.
Cody shrugged. If she didn't need anything, despite the fact he felt indebted to her, then there was little he could do about it. Besides, she was still a stranger, though a kind one at that.
"Alright then. I guess I'll see you around." He left her to her own devices in spite of his curiosity about her means of travel and why she did so. But he figured that anyone who didn't return to a place they had been before had reasons better not discussed in the open. He could relate a little, as he often avoided places he'd been before--but that was due to the fact he often made himself notorious in those parts.
He returned to the park bench and his motorcycle where he'd left it sitting. He crouched beside one of the saddlebags and began to sort through a few of the items in there, knowing they were the last of his few possessions. A change of clothes and some tools in case he had mechanical trouble were stuffed in one. The other saddlebag on the opposite side remained locked and untouched. Though he gave it a gentle pat as he turned in a slow circle to take in his immediate surroundings.
He could probably find work at a local mechanics shop for money. And if he was in luck, he might be able to repay the lady in kind for the meal. Throwing one leg over his motorcycle, he glanced one more time at the woman, as much to memorize her features as to give her one last chance to decide on whether or not she needed a ride--if she even bothered to look in his direction.
Of course, what he wasn't telling himself was that he was planning to keep an eye out for her.
"Alright then. I guess I'll see you around." He left her to her own devices in spite of his curiosity about her means of travel and why she did so. But he figured that anyone who didn't return to a place they had been before had reasons better not discussed in the open. He could relate a little, as he often avoided places he'd been before--but that was due to the fact he often made himself notorious in those parts.
He returned to the park bench and his motorcycle where he'd left it sitting. He crouched beside one of the saddlebags and began to sort through a few of the items in there, knowing they were the last of his few possessions. A change of clothes and some tools in case he had mechanical trouble were stuffed in one. The other saddlebag on the opposite side remained locked and untouched. Though he gave it a gentle pat as he turned in a slow circle to take in his immediate surroundings.
He could probably find work at a local mechanics shop for money. And if he was in luck, he might be able to repay the lady in kind for the meal. Throwing one leg over his motorcycle, he glanced one more time at the woman, as much to memorize her features as to give her one last chance to decide on whether or not she needed a ride--if she even bothered to look in his direction.
Of course, what he wasn't telling himself was that he was planning to keep an eye out for her.
Dia stood after a few minutes and stretched, her belly no less flat and empty looking than before. She wasn't starving, but a smoothie at the nearest ABC or Chill couldn't hurt, if there was one in town. Rummaging around in her pocket, she drew a cash clip that she had pulled from to buy the food. There was fifty-two dollars left in it. Compared to what the man she'd met had now, this would be a godsend. After blowing up that businessman's coffee cup last week as a prank against the pretentious bastard, she figured a karma boost couldn't hurt. She walked back over to him and tossed it straight to him.
"Here ya go. Gas and food for a day or two. You need it more than I do." She didn't stick around for an answer or compensation, and she turned and walked back towards the park gates, looking over her shoulder at him for a friendly wave one last time. Another stranger in the world; just another anonymous entity she would never meet again. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to for the most part, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel like a ghost. Transparent and never changing. Rooted to the idea that someday she'll simply walk straight into an answer. A spirit of travel? She liked the idea in a poetic sort of way. She left through the gates and started down the sidewalk.
"Here ya go. Gas and food for a day or two. You need it more than I do." She didn't stick around for an answer or compensation, and she turned and walked back towards the park gates, looking over her shoulder at him for a friendly wave one last time. Another stranger in the world; just another anonymous entity she would never meet again. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to for the most part, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel like a ghost. Transparent and never changing. Rooted to the idea that someday she'll simply walk straight into an answer. A spirit of travel? She liked the idea in a poetic sort of way. She left through the gates and started down the sidewalk.
Cody caught the clip easily. It was just as well that Dia didn't stick around for his response, because he had none. He watched her go and then had the presence of mind to leaf through the bills. Fifty dollars! What was she doing with so much cash? And why was she just giving it to him? Didn't she need it? Or was she so loaded that she didn't care? Or maybe he just looked pathetic enough to need the cash. He tried not to dwell on the latter thought--knowing he was desperate enough to keep it. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't try to offer some sort of repayment in return.
He tucked the clip into his jacket pocket, careful so it wouldn't fall away, and then started his engine. With the extra cash he didn't need to find work straight away; he'd just filled his gas tank up recently too, which was partly why he was out of money.
He revved the engine and then set out across the park, ignoring whatever signs, birds, and pedestrians were in his way, to screech to a halt in front of the woman.
"Who are you? Why are you trying to help me?" He fished into his jacket pocket and pulled the money from the clip, tossing the empty clip back to her. He didn't trust anything metal, just like he didn't trust cell phones or GPS-devices, and the clip could have been bugged with a tracking device, though he doubted it. Still, it was a policy he adhered to, and he was still alive because of it.
He tucked the clip into his jacket pocket, careful so it wouldn't fall away, and then started his engine. With the extra cash he didn't need to find work straight away; he'd just filled his gas tank up recently too, which was partly why he was out of money.
He revved the engine and then set out across the park, ignoring whatever signs, birds, and pedestrians were in his way, to screech to a halt in front of the woman.
"Who are you? Why are you trying to help me?" He fished into his jacket pocket and pulled the money from the clip, tossing the empty clip back to her. He didn't trust anything metal, just like he didn't trust cell phones or GPS-devices, and the clip could have been bugged with a tracking device, though he doubted it. Still, it was a policy he adhered to, and he was still alive because of it.
She looked to the sky, feeling a small weight lift off of her shoulders. Money burned holes in her pocket most of the time, and she liked that she could spend it on someone other than herself sometimes. Maybe she did it to feel better about herself, or maybe she was uncomfortable with wealth. Maybe both. She was often more than willing to stick with the latter upon reflection. She jumped a little as the bike squealed to a stop in front of her, startled. One of her hands had come up and she nearly engaged what she thought was a target, planning on flinging whoever it was into the distance. She quickly registered him as the poor guy from earlier on the bench.
"Jesus! What the hell is your problem?" She stammered in aggravation, fumbling the clip a little and having to bend down to pick it up again. "Do you not need the friggin' money? I almost-...screamed..." she said, stuttering as her threat quickly corrected itself to mimic fear. She put the clip in her pocket, her tired eyes now scrunched into anger. She wasn't in the mood for bullshit, and that is exactly what she felt was in front of her at this moment.
"Jesus! What the hell is your problem?" She stammered in aggravation, fumbling the clip a little and having to bend down to pick it up again. "Do you not need the friggin' money? I almost-...screamed..." she said, stuttering as her threat quickly corrected itself to mimic fear. She put the clip in her pocket, her tired eyes now scrunched into anger. She wasn't in the mood for bullshit, and that is exactly what she felt was in front of her at this moment.
Well, this was new; her reaction, that is. He'd seen that type of reaction a few times before, usually elicited by people on the run or expecting trouble. It brought up his previous unasked questions to the forefront of his mind, though this time he made sure to show her that both hands were empty. If she came at him, he wouldn't hesitate to protect himself.
He took a deep breath, settling his nerves from the near attack.
"I don't usually take charity," he said in a terse tone. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just wasn't sure I could trust you." Though judging by the woman's previous reaction, she was ready for anything. "What's with your reaction anyway? You'd think someone was going to attack you."
He took a deep breath, settling his nerves from the near attack.
"I don't usually take charity," he said in a terse tone. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just wasn't sure I could trust you." Though judging by the woman's previous reaction, she was ready for anything. "What's with your reaction anyway? You'd think someone was going to attack you."
She expertly deflected the question. "It happens when someone comes within a couple feet of hitting me with their damn bike. I'm pretty sure its a natural reaction. And who cares if you can trust me!? I gave you fifty bucks and left! Oh yeah, I forgot, I lined the money with a contact neurotoxin, hardy freakin' har, I am the EVILEST mastermind. Is there anyone more evil than me!?" She shoved his front wheel aside just a little too easily and finished her sentence, "I fucking doubt it."
On she walked, flustered from being so suddenly jerked out of her good mood. The sun felt a little too hot all the sudden, and a little too bright. She huffed in frustration, figuring that no good deed goes unpunished, and that there wasn't a way to escape that seemingly unbreakable law of nature.
On she walked, flustered from being so suddenly jerked out of her good mood. The sun felt a little too hot all the sudden, and a little too bright. She huffed in frustration, figuring that no good deed goes unpunished, and that there wasn't a way to escape that seemingly unbreakable law of nature.
Cody sighed and steadied his bike from her shove. He swallowed his retort before it left his mouth and ran a hand through his brown hair. Well, alright, maybe he had deserved that. He hadn't tried to run her down though, but neither was she the first person he'd chased down on his bike either. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath briefly to calm his nerves and then let it out.
He flinched suddenly when a flash of white light appeared behind him. The six-winged angel hovered just behind his right shoulder, too close and too real for comfort. Under his breath, Cody muttered to the Legion, "I thought you left, like everyone else."
He didn't expect a response from the creature, as he revved his engine and tore out of the park, leaving a dirt trail where grass used to be. If he ran into the lady again, he'd make sure to give her a wide berth. It wasn't worth his trouble to instigate a fight that had no purpose behind it--just to satisfy his pride.
(OOC: It's up to you whether Dia can see the Legion.)
He flinched suddenly when a flash of white light appeared behind him. The six-winged angel hovered just behind his right shoulder, too close and too real for comfort. Under his breath, Cody muttered to the Legion, "I thought you left, like everyone else."
He didn't expect a response from the creature, as he revved his engine and tore out of the park, leaving a dirt trail where grass used to be. If he ran into the lady again, he'd make sure to give her a wide berth. It wasn't worth his trouble to instigate a fight that had no purpose behind it--just to satisfy his pride.
(OOC: It's up to you whether Dia can see the Legion.)
Dia's head ached with the pain of a presence nearby that was throwing the environment out of sync with itself. She looked far ahead and saw nothing, and the left and the right also remained clear. Nothing on the rooftops, or in windows in the town ahead of her. She looked over her shoulder, back at the man on the motorcycle. If she looked hard, she could see something in the air just behind him. What, she mouthed to herself, is that...
She focused and brought her breathing and blinking into tandem, and the air around her pulsed once. She vanished.
The town was gone in her vision now, and in fact, they were not on a planet at all, but inside an empty and vast expanse of space. She was within a separate dimension, within her own personal fold of space, as though taking a taxi to a different universe. She was half transparent within this new place, and was physically untouchable from anywhere in any known reality except her own. It was an advanced type of magic that she had only within the last year discovered by accident. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, though finding yourself uncontrollably flying through space at a star several tens of thousands of times bigger than Sol wouldn't be pleasant for anyone. In the middle of meditation, she'd learned to do this, and had developed it sense to avoid unnecessary movement and to sense different dimensions herself. It was through this that she learned that their are numerous dimensions and universes, and many happenings in our world, are simply ripples and events in a separate but parallel universe.
The shimmering displacement of light before was now a fuzzy apparition. She couldn't see it yet, so she shifted again. "Holy shit," she muttered. There was a strange, angel-looking humanoid entity standing there. She returned to her own dimension and dissolved the dimensional pocket just as the man passed on his motorcycle. She couldn't let him get away. This was the kind of supernatural bullshit she'd been searching for for years. She held her hand out in a fist and focused her vision on his back tire. Her hand flashed open, causing the air to rapidly expand outward in the tire, and it immediately blew out completely. Hopefully, if he didn't die in the process, she could get some answers, and started jogging that way.
She focused and brought her breathing and blinking into tandem, and the air around her pulsed once. She vanished.
The town was gone in her vision now, and in fact, they were not on a planet at all, but inside an empty and vast expanse of space. She was within a separate dimension, within her own personal fold of space, as though taking a taxi to a different universe. She was half transparent within this new place, and was physically untouchable from anywhere in any known reality except her own. It was an advanced type of magic that she had only within the last year discovered by accident. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, though finding yourself uncontrollably flying through space at a star several tens of thousands of times bigger than Sol wouldn't be pleasant for anyone. In the middle of meditation, she'd learned to do this, and had developed it sense to avoid unnecessary movement and to sense different dimensions herself. It was through this that she learned that their are numerous dimensions and universes, and many happenings in our world, are simply ripples and events in a separate but parallel universe.
The shimmering displacement of light before was now a fuzzy apparition. She couldn't see it yet, so she shifted again. "Holy shit," she muttered. There was a strange, angel-looking humanoid entity standing there. She returned to her own dimension and dissolved the dimensional pocket just as the man passed on his motorcycle. She couldn't let him get away. This was the kind of supernatural bullshit she'd been searching for for years. She held her hand out in a fist and focused her vision on his back tire. Her hand flashed open, causing the air to rapidly expand outward in the tire, and it immediately blew out completely. Hopefully, if he didn't die in the process, she could get some answers, and started jogging that way.
The promise of the open road before him and the feel of the engine rumbling beneath him had given Cody that surge of hope at being home-free. That was, until his blasted tire blew up, throwing him forward onto the handlebars. He cursed as he fought to bring the fishtailing motorcycle to a controlled stop and then glared at the Legion briefly. Whenever the Legion showed up, things were bound to go to hell in a hand basket. Or perhaps a saddlebag.
Dismounting with a scowl, he muttered to the Legion: "What did I ever do to you?" He glanced at the ground for anything sharp that might have pierced his tire, but one look at the tire indicated more than just a puncture. It had been shredded. Any composure he might have had beforehand was now lost. "Damn it! NO! I can't afford this! Where the hell am I going to find a new tire?"
He ignored the fact that he was uninjured and unscathed, as did he ignore the fact that his Legion seemed to be unconcerned by his sudden lack of transportation. Cody sighed and slumped to his knees in the grass, staring at the shredded tire. So close; he had been so close and yet so far to leaving this town and its crazy inhabitants behind him.
Dismounting with a scowl, he muttered to the Legion: "What did I ever do to you?" He glanced at the ground for anything sharp that might have pierced his tire, but one look at the tire indicated more than just a puncture. It had been shredded. Any composure he might have had beforehand was now lost. "Damn it! NO! I can't afford this! Where the hell am I going to find a new tire?"
He ignored the fact that he was uninjured and unscathed, as did he ignore the fact that his Legion seemed to be unconcerned by his sudden lack of transportation. Cody sighed and slumped to his knees in the grass, staring at the shredded tire. So close; he had been so close and yet so far to leaving this town and its crazy inhabitants behind him.
She approached him cautiously, her hands shaking slightly from pent-up energy. She couldn't help it this time; she laughed out loud as he regarded this happening as pure misfortune. His anguish was black-comedy gold.
"First off, I'll go ahead and say if you draw those guns on me for what I'm about to say, I'll fling you into the stratosphere. Now stay calm and listen to everything I have to speak to you about." She crouched down in front of him and held her hands up, her amusement fading and her voice remarkably tame. "I blew up your tire, and I can just as easily put it back together. Observe, puny mortal," she said melodramatically, and touched the tire. Her powers registered the tires tread pattern and composition and reformed it, right back to its original shape, though it was still airless, and therefore flat.
"I'll refill the air, but only as long as you tell me what that thing is that follows you around, and where it comes from. I have to know." Her expression was was more serious now. It was all business.
"First off, I'll go ahead and say if you draw those guns on me for what I'm about to say, I'll fling you into the stratosphere. Now stay calm and listen to everything I have to speak to you about." She crouched down in front of him and held her hands up, her amusement fading and her voice remarkably tame. "I blew up your tire, and I can just as easily put it back together. Observe, puny mortal," she said melodramatically, and touched the tire. Her powers registered the tires tread pattern and composition and reformed it, right back to its original shape, though it was still airless, and therefore flat.
"I'll refill the air, but only as long as you tell me what that thing is that follows you around, and where it comes from. I have to know." Her expression was was more serious now. It was all business.
Cody looked up sharply when he heard a laugh, and then scowled belligerently when he recognized the lady coming toward him. Today was just not his day. And of course, her words set him instantly on edge.
He checked himself from reaching for his guns, as he'd been wont to due for the last thirty seconds when he'd processed the destroyed tire. Her comment about sending him into the Stratosphere certainly didn't warm him up to her next topic. Neither did her actions.
Cody shoved himself back and away from the lady, who was fixing his tire. No normal person could fix a tire like that, definitely not one that needed replacing--as his had had. Had, being the key word. His face had gone about two shades paler than usual beneath his tan at the unusual display. And as if everything prior hadn't been more than enough to overwhelm him, her final words about his Legion was the final straw. He fell back on his old mantra: admit nothing, deny everything, and make counter accusations.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't see anything around here..." He pointedly looked around, looking everywhere but in the Legion's general direction. He raised a hand to feel his forehead for injury before meeting her eyes again. "Are you sure you're not hallucinating or something?"
He checked himself from reaching for his guns, as he'd been wont to due for the last thirty seconds when he'd processed the destroyed tire. Her comment about sending him into the Stratosphere certainly didn't warm him up to her next topic. Neither did her actions.
Cody shoved himself back and away from the lady, who was fixing his tire. No normal person could fix a tire like that, definitely not one that needed replacing--as his had had. Had, being the key word. His face had gone about two shades paler than usual beneath his tan at the unusual display. And as if everything prior hadn't been more than enough to overwhelm him, her final words about his Legion was the final straw. He fell back on his old mantra: admit nothing, deny everything, and make counter accusations.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't see anything around here..." He pointedly looked around, looking everywhere but in the Legion's general direction. He raised a hand to feel his forehead for injury before meeting her eyes again. "Are you sure you're not hallucinating or something?"
Dia put a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Look, you have met the LAST person you want to lie to, and also the worst, since I've been studying the art of deception since before I could speak. Now, I can see you're scared that I just phased your tire back into existence, but you'll be a lot more scared when I - as I said - fling you into the Stratosphere." She stood back up, completely prepared to make the bullets ignite in the magazine if he so much as twitched wrong.
"So, I'm going to make you a proposition. You help me figure out my own shit, and maybe I can help you deal with...eh, whatever that interdimensional jesus-wannabe is. Not only have a fed you and given you money, but I can fix your bike. It's not charity anymore, stranger. NOW you owe me, so humor me for five fucking seconds...I will ask ONE more time." She knelt down in front of him.
She pointed to the waving area of light that she could see, her eyes burning with resolve and her fingers on all triggers, so to speak. "What. The hell. Is that. And where did it come from?"
"So, I'm going to make you a proposition. You help me figure out my own shit, and maybe I can help you deal with...eh, whatever that interdimensional jesus-wannabe is. Not only have a fed you and given you money, but I can fix your bike. It's not charity anymore, stranger. NOW you owe me, so humor me for five fucking seconds...I will ask ONE more time." She knelt down in front of him.
She pointed to the waving area of light that she could see, her eyes burning with resolve and her fingers on all triggers, so to speak. "What. The hell. Is that. And where did it come from?"
Cody's hands tightened into fists as he was backed into a wall; his brown eyes smoldered with unreleased anger, but there was little he could do now. When Dia knelt beside him, he knew he had no choice but to explain what he could. His eyes darted automatically, seeking out possible exits though the time for that had passed. This was why he disliked charity from strangers, it could be used against him.
He sighed and gave her a good, wary look. "I don't even know who you are and you want me to just open up and tell you everything I know? Threatening me isn't going to help either. Besides, I probably don't know as much as you think I do."
The Legion thus far had been keeping an eye on the proceedings, preferring to have as little to do with mortals--its own in particular--as possible. Now, however, it teleported closer to the mortals, appearing a wing-length away from Cody--who tried not to flinch. It was as much to eavesdrop as to test this newest mortal's ability to sense his presence.
He sighed and gave her a good, wary look. "I don't even know who you are and you want me to just open up and tell you everything I know? Threatening me isn't going to help either. Besides, I probably don't know as much as you think I do."
The Legion thus far had been keeping an eye on the proceedings, preferring to have as little to do with mortals--its own in particular--as possible. Now, however, it teleported closer to the mortals, appearing a wing-length away from Cody--who tried not to flinch. It was as much to eavesdrop as to test this newest mortal's ability to sense his presence.
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