Post by Thaddius Gone on Nov 18, 2007 15:27:47 GMT -5
Calculations.
They had to be reviewed, altered, done over and finally completed in light of his attack. He could not deny that the minor assault on Minneapolis had gone better than he had planned, which in ways good, and in ways bad. He had to follow his plans, his numbers to the letter, never going in excess even if things were going well enough to permit it. Inwardly he chastised himself, but he had to admit that he had fun humiliating the freak on live, national television. He showed them what a human could do with just a bit of forethought, preparation and excellent execution. Even if no one did anything to contain the fires or control the situation in Minneapolis, it would still coincide with his plan... and if people did help, then it would still be in the guides of his plan. Properly executed, there was nothing that could go wrong.
Unfortunately, he did not have as much information as he would have liked in this case. It was hard to prepare his gauntlets and other mindwired technology when he did not even know what he was up against completely. Sure, there was minor details... information that he had to kill, steal and bribe to get... but it would all come to fruition. He would never spend money unless he knew that what he was investing in would put him ahead. Money wasn't as important as knowledge, information. That was his true currency, fools could take his money as if it actually mattered, and they would never know that they had lost more than they could have ever thought possible. His destination was not to the scene of the crime, fortunately. His body was soon displaced at the speed of light, the destination was set, and soon his body rematerialized in the city of New York.
Getting back to his base was going to be a bit difficult, at least it was enough to note in his plan. The field around it had been specially designed to protect against psychic intrusion, as well as materialization within the complex. Going out of it was easy, but travelling back in was quite less. It wouldn't jeapordize his mission, but it was enough to consider as he walked down the sidewalk. The stealth field generated around his body made walking unseen by the naked eye quite easy, as he couldn't risk being noticed, even if he didn't stand out even in a suit and tie.
The city of New York was pleasing to his eye. It was an example, albeit a flawed one of how he would like the world he could help build be like. Not in it's crime, but in it's sheer mechanization. There was a human for every job, all dependent on one another. If only he could be given the chance to better 'polish and oil' the cogs of this human machine could they be easily showcased as the pinnacle, the example of what a human society could do. No freaks to tarnish it. Though there were plenty of humans to do that themselves, though that was a different problem for a different day of course. As he strode purposefully through the crowd, the veritable herd of humans none noticed even being slightly jostled by him, after all there were already so many people on the sidewalk that others just cast venomous looks at one another as he passed, not seeing the true offender.
It was by no means a long trek, as none of the others had been before.
This one in particular was a special case. All the security, the attack on Minneapolis had to be pulled off in this case, unlike in the others. The cumulation of this find was worth the exposure though, and with a satisfied grin, Gone looked upon the run down flat that most people ignored. Bars adorned the windows, and the tough architecture of the building itself made it resistant to a human intruder, at least one that was ill equipped for the job. The best kind of infiltration didn’t need to break down walls. All he needed to do was walk in. With a thought, the stealth field shut off, rending him visable once more. Nonchalantly, he opened the door and walked through the tacky curtain of beads. A bell sound off above his head, alerting the one within that a customer had arrived.
The air was thick with Jasmine incense in Madame Ophalla’s residence, the entire area was cluttered with either junk, or dirty purple cloth, all in an attempt to make the insides look ‘mystic and mysterious’. To complete the hokey look was a round table in the middle of the floor, draped in still yet more purple cloth, though upon it stood a clear crystal ball. This was indeed the right place. “I predicted you would come. Have a seat, young man.” Came a silken voice from behind a translucent shroud, the slender figure of a woman was easy to discern, and soon she stepped from behind what concealed her beautiful form. It was not hard to see why some came to this particular fortune teller, at least that much was made obvious to Gone. Taking a seat, he stared right at her, openly measuring her up.
“You expected me?” he sounded slightly surprised, wondering if perhaps he had not prepared sufficiently for this encoutner. Soon the woman took a seat right in front of him, brushing the long black hair behind her back, revealing the tan skin of her shoulder and even a bit of her cleavage. It was almost disgraceful, but Gone knew that some people had to go to lengths to make their money. It didn’t make sense in this case though.
“So, you know then, hm?” he said calmly, putting his hands upon the table, watching her every move. The woman looked right back to him, her demeanor no longer flighty, but a more serious tone to her voice. “Yes I have been. Perhaps the others had not… but I have been expecting you, Mr. Gone.” Her gaze turned icey, her hands remaining under the table, just to keep him from seeing what she was preparing for what she saw as a monster. “You were looking for real magic, hm? Well, you found it!”
The somatic requirements complete, Gone felt himself tugged from his seat rather violently by the very joints of his body. He looked almost comical, hung by an unseen force like a maniquien whom the controller had recklessly stowed away. He felt himself bubble with anger… oh how he hated surprises. All of his calculations had failed him in this instance, and that was more than enough to think that he was going to thoroughly enjoy eliminating her. To the uninitiated, they would merely see him hung in the air, but to those with an eye for the arcane, they would see bright red strings holding him from the ceiling.
“Those strings are not going to let you go, Gone. You will remain here until I can contact the only man I can think of that can bring a suitable punishment for you.” Just a few moments her lips twisted into a scowl, seeing his grinning face. “Do you think that’s funny? Have you no guilt for what you’ve done? Who you’ve killed!?” she approuched him, lowering him slightly with a wave of her hand. She wanted to look into the face of the one who has brought an end to others like herself. That was her mistake.
From the guantlets an insidious green gas suddenly expelled, just a small burst, right into her face. Reeling back, she coughed and waved her hands in a futile effort to rid herself of the noxious fog. The sound of his feet hitting the floor rang profoundly in her ears.
“I deduced that it took your constant concentration in order to keep me held aloft… If it didn’t, then you could have just finished me while I hung there, no? I know you wanted to, I could see it… I could hear it. Admirable, of course.” He deliberately approuched her as she gagged, the smoke she inhaled, that her pores had absorbed wouldn’t kill her, of course. It was just debilitating. A hand grabbed the front of her dress and twisted, just to make sure she wouldn’t squirm from his grasp.
“Such a pretty face.” He spoke, shaking his head as his gauntleted fist rose in preperation to strike. “It is a shame that I have to ruin it.”
The blurred image of his face was the last thing Madame Ophalla saw.
They had to be reviewed, altered, done over and finally completed in light of his attack. He could not deny that the minor assault on Minneapolis had gone better than he had planned, which in ways good, and in ways bad. He had to follow his plans, his numbers to the letter, never going in excess even if things were going well enough to permit it. Inwardly he chastised himself, but he had to admit that he had fun humiliating the freak on live, national television. He showed them what a human could do with just a bit of forethought, preparation and excellent execution. Even if no one did anything to contain the fires or control the situation in Minneapolis, it would still coincide with his plan... and if people did help, then it would still be in the guides of his plan. Properly executed, there was nothing that could go wrong.
Unfortunately, he did not have as much information as he would have liked in this case. It was hard to prepare his gauntlets and other mindwired technology when he did not even know what he was up against completely. Sure, there was minor details... information that he had to kill, steal and bribe to get... but it would all come to fruition. He would never spend money unless he knew that what he was investing in would put him ahead. Money wasn't as important as knowledge, information. That was his true currency, fools could take his money as if it actually mattered, and they would never know that they had lost more than they could have ever thought possible. His destination was not to the scene of the crime, fortunately. His body was soon displaced at the speed of light, the destination was set, and soon his body rematerialized in the city of New York.
Getting back to his base was going to be a bit difficult, at least it was enough to note in his plan. The field around it had been specially designed to protect against psychic intrusion, as well as materialization within the complex. Going out of it was easy, but travelling back in was quite less. It wouldn't jeapordize his mission, but it was enough to consider as he walked down the sidewalk. The stealth field generated around his body made walking unseen by the naked eye quite easy, as he couldn't risk being noticed, even if he didn't stand out even in a suit and tie.
The city of New York was pleasing to his eye. It was an example, albeit a flawed one of how he would like the world he could help build be like. Not in it's crime, but in it's sheer mechanization. There was a human for every job, all dependent on one another. If only he could be given the chance to better 'polish and oil' the cogs of this human machine could they be easily showcased as the pinnacle, the example of what a human society could do. No freaks to tarnish it. Though there were plenty of humans to do that themselves, though that was a different problem for a different day of course. As he strode purposefully through the crowd, the veritable herd of humans none noticed even being slightly jostled by him, after all there were already so many people on the sidewalk that others just cast venomous looks at one another as he passed, not seeing the true offender.
It was by no means a long trek, as none of the others had been before.
This one in particular was a special case. All the security, the attack on Minneapolis had to be pulled off in this case, unlike in the others. The cumulation of this find was worth the exposure though, and with a satisfied grin, Gone looked upon the run down flat that most people ignored. Bars adorned the windows, and the tough architecture of the building itself made it resistant to a human intruder, at least one that was ill equipped for the job. The best kind of infiltration didn’t need to break down walls. All he needed to do was walk in. With a thought, the stealth field shut off, rending him visable once more. Nonchalantly, he opened the door and walked through the tacky curtain of beads. A bell sound off above his head, alerting the one within that a customer had arrived.
The air was thick with Jasmine incense in Madame Ophalla’s residence, the entire area was cluttered with either junk, or dirty purple cloth, all in an attempt to make the insides look ‘mystic and mysterious’. To complete the hokey look was a round table in the middle of the floor, draped in still yet more purple cloth, though upon it stood a clear crystal ball. This was indeed the right place. “I predicted you would come. Have a seat, young man.” Came a silken voice from behind a translucent shroud, the slender figure of a woman was easy to discern, and soon she stepped from behind what concealed her beautiful form. It was not hard to see why some came to this particular fortune teller, at least that much was made obvious to Gone. Taking a seat, he stared right at her, openly measuring her up.
“You expected me?” he sounded slightly surprised, wondering if perhaps he had not prepared sufficiently for this encoutner. Soon the woman took a seat right in front of him, brushing the long black hair behind her back, revealing the tan skin of her shoulder and even a bit of her cleavage. It was almost disgraceful, but Gone knew that some people had to go to lengths to make their money. It didn’t make sense in this case though.
“So, you know then, hm?” he said calmly, putting his hands upon the table, watching her every move. The woman looked right back to him, her demeanor no longer flighty, but a more serious tone to her voice. “Yes I have been. Perhaps the others had not… but I have been expecting you, Mr. Gone.” Her gaze turned icey, her hands remaining under the table, just to keep him from seeing what she was preparing for what she saw as a monster. “You were looking for real magic, hm? Well, you found it!”
The somatic requirements complete, Gone felt himself tugged from his seat rather violently by the very joints of his body. He looked almost comical, hung by an unseen force like a maniquien whom the controller had recklessly stowed away. He felt himself bubble with anger… oh how he hated surprises. All of his calculations had failed him in this instance, and that was more than enough to think that he was going to thoroughly enjoy eliminating her. To the uninitiated, they would merely see him hung in the air, but to those with an eye for the arcane, they would see bright red strings holding him from the ceiling.
“Those strings are not going to let you go, Gone. You will remain here until I can contact the only man I can think of that can bring a suitable punishment for you.” Just a few moments her lips twisted into a scowl, seeing his grinning face. “Do you think that’s funny? Have you no guilt for what you’ve done? Who you’ve killed!?” she approuched him, lowering him slightly with a wave of her hand. She wanted to look into the face of the one who has brought an end to others like herself. That was her mistake.
From the guantlets an insidious green gas suddenly expelled, just a small burst, right into her face. Reeling back, she coughed and waved her hands in a futile effort to rid herself of the noxious fog. The sound of his feet hitting the floor rang profoundly in her ears.
“I deduced that it took your constant concentration in order to keep me held aloft… If it didn’t, then you could have just finished me while I hung there, no? I know you wanted to, I could see it… I could hear it. Admirable, of course.” He deliberately approuched her as she gagged, the smoke she inhaled, that her pores had absorbed wouldn’t kill her, of course. It was just debilitating. A hand grabbed the front of her dress and twisted, just to make sure she wouldn’t squirm from his grasp.
“Such a pretty face.” He spoke, shaking his head as his gauntleted fist rose in preperation to strike. “It is a shame that I have to ruin it.”
The blurred image of his face was the last thing Madame Ophalla saw.