Seventeen (Invite Only)

Honestly? Dante had no idea where he was going. He was struggling even to move, and the voices of his captors screaming at him were no help whatsoever. He couldn’t see, he could barely breathe, and the only thing that would even come to his aid was some sort of demon. In all honesty? Dante was lost, and in more than one way at that.

He struggled with the muscles in his face until he found the one controlling the new eyelids over his new third eye. If he was going to stumble around in Minnesota, the least he could do was see exactly what he was doing. He saw people staring at him, and especially his scars. No one paid him much mind, despite being an obviously wounded teenager. Crap. ‘Yeah, pardon me, folks. Sorry I can’t seem to avoid slowing you down on your to work.’ Dante thought, as one person just shoved him out of their way.

Suddenly, a vision struck him, and he saw himself being hit by a truck. Instinctively, he jumped back just as the horn of a 16 wheeler blared in his ears. Another side effect? He would have to hope that it wasn’t something bad. Then again, it had just saved his life, so? He put that aside, and began searching his mind. Hospital? No. Clearly that won’t work. Ugh. He would have to find another way through this mess.

Breathing deep, Dante began moving through the crowds of people. Honestly, the more he moved; the less wounded he felt. He even felt… good again. Suddenly, a voice called over the throng of people. One that he half recognized, even if it had been a while. The voice was cursing someone out.

“Cyrilla?” Dante called into the throng. “Is that you? It’s me, Dante!" He tried to open his third eye, to get a glimpse of her, but the damn thing was as good as glued. Crap.  He needed to get a grip on that ASAP. He tried gesturing around, hopefully bringing her attention towards him. Cyrilla might know something of what to do after all. Wasn't she a street kid more or less?

Chandler would scream as he hurtled across the sky, lightning rod in hand. The scene picked up directly after his bio on the character sheet. He had only now been blessed (or really cursed) by the Grayliens. Newman tried to steer, but ended up being dragged across the sky at his maximum speed. Gritting his teeth, he'd start to lose speed for some reason. Eventually Chandler had lost all forward momentum and was now falling from the sky toward the ground at terminal velocity.

"AAÀAAAAAH!" he screamed out as the ground rushed up toward him. Wait. What was... Oh, no.

A large telephone pole! He was moving at high speeds toward it. He'd either be impaled or electrocuted if he didn't stop. Chandler had to act. And act he did. He'd grab the lightning rod and began to wave it around in every way possible, trying to get it to work. For a few moments, things looked bleak. And then, slightly less bleak as the wind began to push up on him again, decelerating him. However, he was still moving way too fast. This was going to be close!

Chandler managed to redirect himself into a fast glide, narrowly missing the pole, but now flying into the path of a large truck! He'd deactivate the lightning rod last minute, getting rid of the wind supporting him and falling quicker. Because of his action, he landed hard on his leg, but was able to roll off the road and out of the way of the truck into a snow bank just in time!

Chandler would pull off his mask and toss it away, breathing heavy. He'd grab his leg and let out a cry of pain, alerting those in the area.

"RAAAAH!"

It had been minutes since he had received his powers and now this happens. A broken leg after being blessed with immense power. Would the world know his secret identity before it even becomes a secret? Would the aliens find someone else to be their champion? Would it all end this soon?

The ratty looking german shepherdsniffed at the small pile of garbage, turning back to him with a quizzical expression. ”How can you stand the smell of that stuff?” Rowan asked with obvious disgust in his voice, eyes narrowing and considering the various bits of refuse from the capsized trashcan. All the dog did was smile at him, wagging its tail in that same friendly fashion that he always did around him.

“It smells good. You humans are just weird,” That left him frowning, though he had lost count of how many times he tried to correct the dog about what he was. Instead he scratched him behind the ears, getting the same pleased reaction. He liked dogs. Even if they were mostly friendly to humans, there was something about them that endeared him. Might have been the friendliness that was absent in some wolves, though he could see the similarities between them. Physical behavior and reactions.

”I think you’ll like this better,” He rummaged through the small satchel slung over his shoulder, removing small strips of dried meat which the dog snapped up happily. Almost too quickly, as he had to rip his fingers away before they could get bitten. That didn’t hold his attention for too long. What did grab it was the sound of lightning shooting through the air, sharp to his senses and painful even. He pressed his hands to the glamoured ears, teeth grounding together as he tried to allow himself to orient to the pain.  His dog friend was more interested in seeing what the fuss was, considering everyone running around.

“Hey! That was like a big boom!” The dog barked in a speech only he could understand, wagging his tail and running towards it because he had to get the strange dog or maybe because he knew what he could do. All he knew was that he was curious about the source of the noise and so in the end Rowan followed after the canine. If there was any destruction, it didn’t look like anything that would cause the blue suited men to come around. Well, not quick enough to matter anyway. What strange being had descended and were they one of those metahumans he had heard so much about?

The young halfling ducked and weaved through a few people who had begun to gather around the site of what looked to be their landing. They didn’t pay much attention to someone as short or young looking as him, which was pretty convenient. He pulled up the collar of his warm jacket, eyes narrowing as he moved further to examine what had fallen from the sky to see someone with a mask they had ripped away.

Well they were human, that much he could tell.

The dog upon seeing the strange person sniffed along the trail before just approaching him and sniffing at his face before going to lick at it. ”I…imagine you weren’t trying to fall from the sky,” He appraised him with his own superior sight, though nothing immediately popped out as injured. He could hear the people talking around them, wary now more than ever. ”doesn’t matter. Can you walk? Don’t think you want to be stuck around here.” He offered a hand, pushing the dog aside who seemed to enjoy the concept of new people.

Dante had managed to himself moving through the pain and, with Cyrillas help, managed to get into the library no problem. He had wasted most of his strength trying to get somewhere safe, so when she sat him on the chair, he passed out before she could really say much of anything. He had no choice but to sit tight as he waited for her to come back. While he slept, he heard voices, whispering to him. They spoke of great things in his future, great things... that sounded like a nightmare for Dante. He woke up panting, and with a shush from the librarian, he quieted down. What the hell was going on? Well, he knew what was going on... but he just wanted to ignore that. He wanted to live a normal life, to never have to worry about anything like this again. But as he moved his hand in front of his face, seeing only a void, he knew that any chance at a normal life was over.

He heard Cyrilla come in not long after, and he remembered what she had asked him before the commotion that had caused her to bring him indoors. "Hey, Cyrilla." He croaked out, not wanting to remove the scarf. Not wanting to reveal himself to the world. "You wanted to know what happened, right?" He asked as she sat in one of the chairs, and he heard a couple of others sit as well. Since Cyrilla didn't object, he figured they must be fine.  

"It's a long story... I don't know if I have the strength to share it all with you right now, so I'll sum it up best I can." He explained his situation, being the messiah of a dark cult - supposedly, being tortured for weeks on end by his crush and her "family", and escaping to find her. He didn't want to explain the visions he'd been having, or the insane situation with whatever it is that killed them, especially since he wasn't even sure if that creature had been commanded by some dark impulse hidden deep within him, or if it had just seen trouble on the horizon. In any case, Dante didn't know if his friend would react that well to him possibly murdering a group of people. Even ones that had nearly killed him.

With his story out of the way, he needed water. Grimacing, he concentrated on the bundle of muscles that controlled his tertiary eyelids, located the water fountain, and began stumbling his way over. He made sure to cover his new... "blessing" as soon as he found it. After stumbling over the chair slightly, he managed to limp his way over to the fountain.

Chandler would flip around onto his back, only to see that he was surrounded by a bunch of demons! Was he like these kids 2 to 3 years back? No, he was better, right? Soon, a decently sized dog ran up to his face and began to lick at it.

"Guhhhhhh." He groaned as kids started murmuring about him. A person, likely the dog's owner approached him and began to talk to him, making conversation about him flying and eventually crashing.

"Yeah, it wasn't really my intention." After his reply, he'd attempt to stand, but stagger again, his legs failing him.

He'd gaze up at the owner of the dog. "When I wiped out, my leg must've been damaged somehow. Well, I think it's pretty obvious how."

All of a sudden, some girl would come through and would call him crashing down a snowboarding accident, which it obviously wasn't. However, she immediately scared all the kids away.  Weird. Did kids still believe in the concept of cooties? Anyway, she spoke to the individual attempting to help him, so they were likely friends. He'd grab his new ally's hand and pull himself up, wincing as he put a bit of pressure on his damaged leg. He'd bring his new watch up to his face and peck at the touchscreen with his nose. It was broken as well. Should've known these aliens were cheap.

Now trying to rest on Rowan, he'd sigh, looking somewhat disappointed at the situation. He was  given his hero powers a few minutes ago, but the only things that had become of it was him being pecked at by a bunch of kids and having to rely on others. He was supposed to be the champion of this alien race or whatever. Now he was reduced to just being... Himself.

Rowan examined the male, mostly any injuries he might have incurred despite what he might have called a lack of interest in whether a human was hurt or not. It was one of those unconscious examinations, something he went through when working with his fellow brothers before he had left. The guy mentioned something about his leg being harmed, looking down and noting it further when he tried to stand up and seemed to show some pain when standing on one leg. “Woah, he looks hurt.” His dog friend noted, looking at him as if he should do something about it.

There was the unknown girl talking to him as if he knew her and inviting him to somewhere. The kids scampered away from them when she scared them off, which made him feel a little more comfortable now that he wasn’t crowded by a bunch of children.  Honestly Rowan was a few seconds from doing so himself. “I like her.” The dog added when she scratched him under the chin.

”You like everyone,” He said to seemingly no one, looking reproachfully to the dog while supporting the taller guy the best he could, not that it was too hard. His eyes scanned the area around him, following the girls tracks in the snow through the snow. ”try not to put too much pressure on your leg, it might be broken.” He added, seeming to put more attention back to him as they moved through the front entrance of the building. He turned to the dog.

”Stay outside. I have no idea what an emotional support animal is.” The  dog seemed to pout a little before seeming to trot off, likely waiting until he walked out once again. He found himself trying to find where the Library was, making use of limited English reading skills until he just followed the smell of partially aged books and what smelled like perfume. Not the most pleasant smelling perfume but it was something to follow. That was when he looked down to the males outfit, looking around him to make sure no one was around and waving a hand which sparked with mana.  

An illusion shimmered to life, turning his costume into clothes he had seen humans wear more casually before. Jeans and a t-shirt with a cute bear on it, along with tennis shoes he found himself thinking looked nice at one time.  ”I don’t want you drawing any attention. ” Luckily he could stretch his own glamour enough to hide his inhuman features or the few skins which were attached to his own clothing. Once that was done he stepped into the library, feeling the eyes of an older human woman looking at them with a kind of silent questioning.

”We’re here for..Cyrilla’s study group. Know where I can find that?” He questioned, sounding a little unsure, and uncomfortable in such an artificial looking building but he went along with it. She seemed to eye him even harder after that, as if that was some reason to make him even more questionable.

“That way.” She sounded terse but let the two of them walk by without too many questions. The two moved into the conference room, Rowan lowering the injured man onto a seat and seeming to take a little more time to considering the injured leg.”I could fix this. Would just take a minute or two.” He snapped his fingers, allowing the natural energy to spark and form along his fingertips and palms. The healing energy attracted itself towards the injured limb as he rested his palm against his leg once he was sure human eyes weren’t on them.

Dante would shrug. "I mean... I'm not gonna say yes, but..." He looked better after the water and Cyrilla's care. He was healing, quicker than most; but definitely not fast for the superpowered world they lived in. Dante would look toward the other two and frown underneath the bandages. He could hear them

Who were they? He heard the crowd outside, and assumed that they must be part of it, or even the cause of it. Metahumans? He guessed so based on the fact that one of them was using some sort of healing magic. He was just barely able to see it through the covering of his third eye. He wanted to say something. Dante was never a racist, but... he knew others were and he didn't want to get called out in the middle of the library. Then again... judging by his own newly found powers... He guessed that he had no place to speak on the matter, and kept his mouth shut.

"I don't know where i'm going to go, Cy... I think I'm screwed." Dante looked down at the table, he wanted to go home and curl into a ball. Maybe die? No, not yet. He still had things he wanted to do. "How do you even deal with... well... becoming... something else... How did you do it, Cy?"

Chandler would receive his new glamour, making his way into the library with Rowan. He would eventually end up in a room with the other misfits. The girl that and invited them in there prompted him a question, asking if he was flying.

"No? Well, it depends on what happens next. Are you a Metahuman Hunter or whatever? I've seen way too many on TV.."

His leg would be put under Rowan's healing power, his hand on Chandler's leg. Chandler would feel wonky internally as his damaged leg would revert back to its normal state. It was warm and cold at the same time. Again, Cyrilla would look back at the two and ask if she should leave. She must be thinking those weird teenager thoughts.

"Hey now, don't get weird. It's just some leg super healing stuff. And no, my leg doesn't hurt. I think it'll be fine by the time this guy is done. By the way, what are all of your names? "

Chandler was trying to stay cool in this potentially volatile situation. Sure, this guy was healing him, but the others could be bad dudes. Maybe even an enemy of the aliens. If he made it outside, he could defend himself with his powers. But wait, where was the–

"Have you all seen my lightning rod? Wait, that didn't come out right."

Rowan didn’t contribute much to the conversation, instead allowing what he assumed were humans or metahumans talk among each other while he worked at what he was doing. Allowing nature energy to pour through his fingertips, speeding up and allowing any damage to be undone.  He eyed the guy he was healing as well as the girl who asked the question when it came up, considering them curiously until he realized what was implied. Which left him silent though faintly blushing as he finished up the healing. When the spell ended, the current of energy broke and he felt the natural mana retreat from him in a rush, leaving him with the momentary sadness that came with it.

”That strange rod you were holding? Might have left it behind,” he mused, finally speaking and stroking his chin while looking around. ”though knowing my dog he might have picked it up because he thought it looked pretty.” He added, though his tone didn’t suggest if he were trying to make him feel better or just stating a fact. That was when he eyed the strange teen with what looked to be something wrapped over his forehead and eyes which likely held no light, bringing with him a strange sensation that roiled within his gut. As if his very being felt uneasy around him, though he couldn’t tell what that feeling meant.

Maybe he was a demon? He tended to feel this unease around magics used by them, though he tended to like demons a mite more than human. Around these people he wouldn’t ask the questions which could lead to something awkward. That was always more trouble than it was worth. ”So something tells me you three are some kind of…metahumans right?” he took his seat beside Chandler, resting his elbows on the table and looking between them curiously.

Dante winced at his new title. "Look, Cyd... Just call me Dante... I..." His head pounded with the voices. God they were so loud. He felt the minor scratches on his hand itch and crawl as his body apparently started healing faster.

His head was still swimming and he wasn't sure what to do about it. It was then that one of the males spoke up again. Metahumans. He wished. If he were a metahuman, at least his powers would make sense... At least his origin would make sense... Cyd answered for him, but he nodded. Lying didn't seem like a good way to start a relationship with these people, if that was even what he wanted in the first place; but he also felt that explaining to them that he was a demonic force of nature would be just as bad.

Suddenly, Dante's mind wandered and saw before him, a large group of metahumans staring down an alien invasion. And in front of them,
was Cyrilla. Dante didn't see himself anywhere, but she seemed to be leading this group. Snapping back to reality, Dante whipped his head toward Cyrilla. "Cyd, you're more important than you realize... I think." He couldn't explain why. Something told him that if he told her, at this moment, that the future might not happen.

He looked at Rowan. "So... who might you be?"

Chandler was still missing his lightning rod. He kept it on him somewhere, but it must've gotten loose when he crashed into the snow. His eyes would dart around as he considered that he had just lost the gift of the aliens. He caught the female of the group glancing at his leg and he would begin to speak.

"Yeah, I lost my super alien high tech stick of power and I need to grab it and go. You're nice people and all, but the fate of some alien race is at stake and I don't want the burden of a race's death on my shoulders." Chandler would begin to stand after his little spiel, but fall forward and flat on his face in the small room as he hadn't gotten used to his repaired leg.


He'd pop back up, having risen to his full height, supporting his weight on his better leg. "Also, to answer your question of Metahuman or no, I fall in the middle on that." He'd hobble toward the door they'd come in through and begin to grab the handle.

"Thanks for the company and magic leg healing. I'm glad I landed with you guys and not in a government facility!"