Flanking shadows (Open to any, no combat as of yet)

"I'm just not sure that putting them through the wall like that was the best way to endear ourselves to the populace..." Soren said carefully. His mind kept playing the scene from the night before over and over in his head. He'd raised his hand, there was a flash. He'd watched in slow motion as the expressions on the faces of the two skinheads turned from anger to fear as they hurtled off the ground. He’d watched as they impacted the wall, watched as their bodies broke like twigs.

'Agreed.' came the cool reply. Soren knew Verger was more disappointed with herself than him, but the edge to her voice still hurt. 'It's not your fault; you didn't know how much force you were using. If anything I should have been monitoring the situation with greater clarity.'

Soren shook his head, a somewhat useless gesture considering the person he was speaking to was inside his own head. "What's done is done. And we did save that girl. We'll know better next time, and we'll be more careful agreed? No more killing." he didn't have to wait for the reply to know that Verger agreed completely. Neither of them were born warriors, and the last thing they wanted to do was cause more harm in the world. Some would have seen this as idealistic, but both Verger and Soren saw it as honorable. No killing. Period.

They walked calmly down the bustling L.A. sidewalk, melding in with the crowd. Verger was keeping the suit phased for the time being, allowing Soren to pass as a normal human for a time. It was nice to be back in the United States after so long away. For the past what... six years or so, they had been living in the jungles of Brazil, only occasionally visiting a nearby town for supplies. In contrast the city of angels was an explosion of human life and society, a veritable nuclear assault upon Soren's isolationist senses. Still, while it was certainly overwhelming, it was also exciting to think of the difference they might be able to make.

Somewhere from a nearby store loud music poured into the air. "Here come the jesters, 1 2 3, It's all part of my fantasy..." The loud classic rock reminded Soren just how long he'd been away from civilization even more. It had been literally years since he'd heard anything but the natural music of the jungle creatures or the folk music played by locals in the villages they had visited in Brazil. It was all getting a little to close suddenly, the thick smog filled air felt hot and grated his lungs uncomfortably. He knew the suit was filtering out anything harmful before it reached his cells, but his mind refused to listen to reason.

'Soren, are you alright?'

"Yeah, but let's get off the road ok? I need some air."

They moved quickly into a side alley and hurried down it until they turned a corner and the bustle of the street was lost to view. Despite the cramped quality of the alley Soren quickly found his breath stabilizing as his heart-rate sank to normal.

'You know...' Verger said, her tone holding an obvious smirk that covered her worry, 'the suit is no replacement for proper care of your body. Maybe you should consider exercises to help you get back into shape and deal with your anxiety issues? I understand your human program known as yoga is highly effective....'

"Yeah maybe. I just... I haven't been in this city for a long time... last time I was here my own government wanted to put me in a metal box and poke me with needles. It's just going to take a little getting used to, that's all. Honestly!" The last word was raised slightly, as if Soren was trying to convince himself just as much as Verger.

To understand their relationship one would have to realize that Verger and Soren were two fully separate consciousnesses’s living in the same body. They couldn't read each-others minds without permission. Because they shared the same body however the experience of talking back and forth was sometimes quite strange. If anyone had been watching their conversation it would have looked like Soren was having a perfectly normal conversation with the wall in front of him. He paused proper intervals as if listening to replies and his gestures even displayed a sense that there was someone talking back to him.

If I'm not careful they'll try to lock me up again, this time for talking to myself... Soren thought wryly.




(OOC: Anyone who wants to jump in may do-so, but no combat in this RP. only join if you want character development!)

Janeen found herself in a strange world. All around was nothing but swirling darkness. The air was cold and moist as if a chilling winter morning. Her breath could be seen in front of her. Her hand around her shoulders, she walked endlessly, trying to escape the fate she'd arrived upon. Nothing worked. Her powers were void. What was this realm outside of reality? Upon reaching the edge of this place, the shadow at her feet rose and comforted her, weaving around her as a serpent before an ominous whisper 'Monster' reached her ear. Everything suddenly stopped. "Leave me ALONE!" Janeen screamed, opening her eyes as the plane rumbled. It was only a dream. It had been all along. Yet it was so vivid and real that she couldn't help but to be charmed. She breathed heavily and looked around. Many eyes were fixated on her. Sliding down in her seat, she apologized and stared through the window at the Los Angeles night city lights.

Minutes later, the seatbelt lights cut on and the pilot made his routine announcement over the intercom. "Flight 115 from New York City to Los Angeles, this is your pilot speaking. We have begun our decent and will be arriving shortly..."

Janeen didn't need to hear anything more. Looking down at her arm-rest, she realized that in her experience, she'd managed to change it from plastic into metal. Then she held the bridge of her nose, struck by a fierce headache.

In little under an hour, she'd managed her way from the airport with her bags and called on a cab to take her to her hotel. "All you need is a break, Janeen. Who of your enemies would come all the way out here? Just take a break and relax. Don't even think about the word superhero. Tempest does not exist, at least for this week," she said to herself on the way. She paid the man and left upon arriving at her hotel, the bellboy taking her bags for her after she'd checked in.

Later that night, she'd been preparing to go to bed when she decided to gaze upon the LA lights of the night once again from the hotel room balcony. Every hypnotized by their beauty, she smiled to herself, certain that she'd finally be able to rest again. But rest didn't come easy to someone with such inner demons. She lay in bed, the TV still on when she began to drift. Soon she realized that every channel had begun to broadcast the same thing. It was a news anchor from Manhattan. "Earlier today, the supervillainess, Tempest killed Police Chief David "Raider" McManus. She then attempted to escape but was ultimately stopped by Nathan Kendall, The Protector." Suddenly the reporter's image was morphed and he emerged from the television, extending a demonic claw over her. "Why Did She Do It?" The creature asked, teasingly.

"Go away!" Janeen screamed, awakening as she attacked what wasn't there in a rage, thus striking it with lightning and causing it to explode. There she began to cry to herself, sitting up in bed until she fell asleep again, this time peacefully.

(OOC: Sorry it's short. One character. Not alot of chances for dialogue)

(I reserve a post)