DEL HALE
Del stood there, for almost a full awkward minute, holding his hand out to the girl who refused to take it while equally seeming mystified by it. During this time, Del wondered many things. Why he was being sent on a mission with this girl? Why did he walk in the doors of Nova Infinitum of all places? Most importantly, why was he receiving a stare down? it was very unsettling, to be stared down by someone with eyes the size of dinner plates. Del knew she was a corrupted, making him wonder whether or not she was staring at him with decidedly murderous intent or if she was just nervous. Did corrupteds get nervous?
He was about to lower his hand when the girl next to Aquarius greeted him.
"Um, hi, Lyra." He now tried to give her a handshake. Suddenly, his eyes flitted upward, scanning her face. "Oh my god, I'm an idiot, she's blind." He remembered, and he lowered his hand faster than perhaps he ever had before. Reflexively he smiled, trying to be polite, then he remembered she couldn't see the smile and he panicked slightly, internally. While trying to think of a response, something tiny and fast slammed into his chest and then he was on the floor with a little corrupted girl directly on top of him.
Before Del could do so much a yelp, scream, or get away in any fashion, the girl nuzzled into his chest, saying he was her new big brother. in the back of Del's mind, he wondered what happened to her old big brother.
"So, um, Lyra..." Del began, while attempted to pry the little girl off of him, but her death grip on his shirt was making it no easier.
"Are you going on the mission with us...?" Now he was on his feet, holding the little girl in his arms.
Before the girl could answer, an woman only a few years older than them walked over. He vaguely remembered her- Ms.Scythe, wasn't it? If Del remembered correctly, she had reverse telepathy. With a power and name like that, it was a wonder she wasn't buddy buddy with that guy Ursa. This woman had taught a few classes with him in them- He'd only been there a few days, after all. He also remembered her from his one session of cooking club, in which e'd eaten the pizzas the club made. All fifteen of them.
"You doing okay there? What's with all the fuss today?" She asked.
"Missions, and evidently, today is the day we all pick new big brothers." Del said, letting out a rare glimpse of one of his jokes.
He looked back at Aquarius, noticing that she was wearing gloves and bracelets. Interesting clothing choice, particularly for a little girl. he wondered if it had something to do with her power...? It might be. Del had realized a while ago that he subconsciously had altered his appearance to fit around his power. it made him wonder what her power was. Glove manipulation?

URSA
Ursa rose from his seat a half second before Virgo made her irrelevant comment on the mission time. He already knew it was time to go, and he imagined Jace did as well. Jace nodded and stood as well, while all three made their way to the car. As they walked, Ursa thought about Virgo. He remembered reading over her file Zoolingualisim was her power. If it came down to it, he'd deal with her indoors. Outside he might have to contend with a veritable legion of pigeons. Enough of them would make it hard to aim. Indoors his problems might consist of a house cat or dog- In other words, a non-issue. Ursa thought about specific ways to kill her. Most anything would probably work, she didn't seem to have physical prowess in any way, shape, or form. he'd be a push-over, easy to make it seem like an 'accident'. He tucked that bit of knowledge away as the trio stepped outside, the air biting into Ursa's neck. Jace silently handed him his coat and he took it, putting it on, enjoying the familar feeling of the fabric brushing against the bits of his exposed skin while he zipped and buttoned it.
Jace opened the door and Virgo stepped in, followed by Ursa. The three of them jammed into the backseat while Virgo peered over the file. A crusty cabbie stared at them from the front seat, he face covered with stubble, and from the backseat Ursa could tell his breath stunk of cheap hot dogs and the last traces of alcohol from a morning hangover. Ursa's eyes flickered over his rates, confirming his suspicious that they were investing a low amount of money in their travel.
"To the airport, yeah?" The cabbie said, a thick New York accent permeating his voice.
"Make it snappy." Ursa said. The cabbie frowned deeper and started to drive.
"So, Ursa... Any thoughts on our mission?" The assassin was thinking about that, too.
"Waste of our talents. An Agent could be deployed alone just as easily. Could be a test. Or he could be dangerous." Ursa said, one of the few times he'd spoken to someone not associated with his training or his missions.
"As much as I don't want to admit it, Ursa has a point. Nova Infinitum doesn't send our stars to find other stars, usually...Unless..." Jace said. he didn't finish the though, but he knew what Jace was thinking. Unless there was a problem.

ALEX MASTERS "ATLAS"
Alex awoke that morning to the calming tones of his alarm clock- Smooth jazz, turned up just loud enough to rouse him from his slumber. He was in a spacious room, easily two dozen meters by two dozen meters. A king sized bed with clean white sheets was against the wall, and other walls were adorned with framed pictures or had shelves against them that held a myriad of trophies. The only thing the place didn't seem to have was a vaulted ceiling, but his associates had decided adding one of those to his quarters wasn't exactly cost effective.
He rolled out of bed, yawning loudly, going to pour himself a cup of coffee. He strode to his kitchenette, opening cabinets while his combination TV/Computer lit up, with today's mission and training assignments. He lazily ready it as he began making his coffee.
"Division 12; Live Fire on Ranges. Units 22, 39, and 75 to receive disciplinary action." Was all he managed to read before a new assignment popped up "Personnel Assignment- ATLAS". Puzzled, he clicked on the file. Inside were the details of a young girl, someone named Vespira. Living in Washington, over in the United States, she had the power of adoptive muscle memory. His higher-ups were suggesting he... Persuade her to come to their side.
Alex cracked a smile. Someone with Adoptive Muscle Memory would be an invaluable asset for the training of his soldiers. he could show her footage of something being done, and pick the knowledge of it right from her head. Alex printed the plane tickets, and went to get his coat. Today he'd be heading to Seattle...
((Sorry for short posts, again. Somewhat busy day for me...

Nova Infinitum Headquarters, The Atrium

Oh god, is he… he’s… Astie blushed furiously at the clownish antics of Baihu and slouched down, rather like she was trying to disappear. And then for a dizzying moment her sense of direction was all screwed up as Baihu lifted her up into the air.

Instantly the terror swamped her, and for a moment she panicked as unfamiliar hands grabbed her and picked her up, leaving her entirely helpless dangling in the air. She flailed, trying to get her feet back on solid ground, anything, just to get herself back to somewhere that she could be in control of herself. She squirmed until Baihu dropped her, and fell awkwardly onto the floor, though she at least managed to keep herself from falling face-first onto the hard floor.
Her face turning cherry-colored with embarrassment, Astie rose to her feet, brushing herself off and glaring at the tall Chinese boy through a screen of tears, some of which spilled over her long eyelashes and down her cheeks as she took a deep breath and tried to stop trembling. “D-d-don’t d-d-do that…A-actually… Actually, d-don’t t-t-touch me. A-at all. D-do you u-understand? St-stay a-away from me.” Another deep breath and she angrily scrubbed at her face, trying to make the tears go away but only succeeding in making her eyes redder.

---

An abandoned (?) warehouse on the outskirts of Seattle, Washington.

Happy seventh birthday, Astie. I bet you don’t remember me, but I’m your sister, Elysia. I used to be your only friend, because you were so much littler than and smarter than all of the other kids at Nova, and they shunned you. I last saw you two years and one day ago… You didn’t remember me then, either. Or if you did remember me, you probably couldn’t see well enough to read my writing, and you probably couldn’t talk.

God, Astie, it hurts that I can’t talk to you. I don’t know if you’re living or dead, and I don’t honestly know which would be better. For your sake, I hope you’re dead and you have a respite from the pain. But because I am your sister, I hope that you’re alive to celebrate having survived another full turn around the sun.

I’m sure this letter won’t reach you, even if you’re dead, as I’m not allowed to go outside to burn this, and so I have to burn it inside. In any case, know that I love you and I’m thinking of you. Andrew sends his regards, though Mother and Father do not approve of him contacting me.

Oh dear. Look at this mess I’ve written. I think some of your intelligence rubbed off on me, Astie. I don’t write like a nine-year-old. In any case, I’m running out of paper. Know that I love you, and I’m praying for your safety and happiness. Have a wonderful birthday, my sister.

The letter, scribbled on a crumpled piece of notebook paper, lay beside the girl’s head as she cried until she had no more tears to shed. She reached to the side of her bed and took out one of her emergency candles and a strike-anywhere match, and set the candle to burning. She stared into the flames for a moment, mesmerized. Then she slowly fed the paper into the tiny flame, watching the ashes fall and the smoke rise to the ceiling. As soon as the paper was done burning, she snuffed out the flame and put the candle away. A ritual she’d done so many times, each time more painful than the last.
~~~
She forced her thoughts away from it. Strapped her daggers over the dark stars on her forearms and the back of her neck, slipped her holster onto the belt on her dark jeans, then tucked her .22 pistol into it. She checked to make sure her assorted other weapons were where they were supposed to be, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. four feet three inches of badass fighter. Sometimes sensitive and sentimental, sure, but most of the time just this hard shell, the archetype of a fighter. She wouldn’t let anyone see her human side, if she could help it.

---

On board a luxury airplane with her flirtatious employer
He’s deliberately fooling with your heart, you idiot girl! Don’t fall for it! she thought furiously to herself, even as her blush intensified slightly at that wonderful smile. Well, who wouldn’t fall for it? she thought, sensing the glares the other female servants were directing at her.
“You are too kind, sir.” She said softly, keeping her eyes averted.

Hearing the other servant’s comment, Caixia bowed to Qinglong, and retreated to her office area. She’d met the girl Xixi a few times, being a part of Qinglong’s entourage in most places. Such an adorable little girl, and such a horrible thing to have happened to her. That bloodthirsty Baihu. How could he sleep at night, knowing what happened to his sister because of him?

“Caixia? Tell IBM I will be ready in one hour. And would you also get me the 1912 Henri Hayderne Grand Cru Romannee and a ginger ale?”

Cai hurried out to the main compartment of the plane. “Of course, sir.” She bowed again and walked quickly to the back of the plane. As she was pouring the wine and the soda the pilot’s turbulence warning came over the speakers. Mentally the girl cursed as she fought to hold her feet and not spill any wine or soda, while also talking quietly to the secretary at IBM to set up the meeting. Such was the nature of her gift, and she managed it flawlessly.
When the plane stabilized somewhat she brought the tray out for Qinglong, bowing yet again to the boy as she set it on the table beside his seat.

“Sir, is there anything else you desire of me?” she asked. Then she internally winced at the potential double entendre, though she kept her face perfectly blank and attentive. The model assistant, not letting any of her thoughts show.

Stergann Scythe

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just here to see what all the commotion is about." Stergann reassured Lyra. "Maybe you could introduce me. I've met Del before, he's one of my students, but I'm not sure I know your other partner," Stergann said, wondering if the younger girl had even noticed she was there. She seemed awfully engrossed in her tackle-fest.

"I'm a little out of the loop sometimes, being a staff member instead of a normal student... But I'm guessing there are quite a lot of you going on missions today. Is that right, Del?", she asked, turning toward the boy. After all, she had come out of her room to find out what was happening. She figured Lyra wouldn't know any better than her, since she couldn't see any of the screens. When Lyra had first arrived, Stergann had personally made sure she would be informed of anything she need to know by telephone, but of course, they'd only tell her what was essential to Lyra's functioning as an agent. The administrative staff couldn't be bothered to repeat everything that was on the screens, and in any case that would have been a bit of an information overload for the poor girl.

Then something amusing occurred to her. She turned to Lyra with a hint of a grin on her face. "Would you like to see what those two look like, on the ground? I could show you." Stergann always preferred to ask before imposing her thoughts on others, although with Lyra it was just a formality at this point. Lyra was used to Stergann's thoughts mixing into hers, or however that worked. Stergann often wished she could experience what her power felt like to others; in fact, that was one of the reasons she wished she could their minds. But, no sense in yearning for the impossible. She could put these thoughts away for later, when she was daydreaming again.

The asian shrugged as he walked away towards the coffeee machine. Somewhere deep inside of him he hoped that the little girl would forgive him. Somewhere.

He pressed the button for a good ol' cup of joe, but nothing came out. He pressed it again, only beeping noises. A few more button presses netted some more beeps as if R2-D2 got stuck inside of it. At the end of his (short) straw, he violently shook the red and black machine, cursing the smiling face for denying him the ability to get high on caffeine. Finally, a ding of hope that signalled there would be hot liquid energy spewing out of the spout created a smile on Baihu's face.

Of course that was immediately met with the machine extruding some long, black thing of presumably old coffee powder that had condensed and spit out into his cup. He stared at the black log-like thing in his cup and then at the winking smile face that mocked him. In a flurry of curses he took out a knife and promptly stabbed the shit out of it. he made sure that the damn face wouldn't be there.

When he was done, the poor coffee machine comically exploded, spraying coffee in a small radius around it. As Baihu walked back, now having to settle for water, the guards slapped their hands against their heads. They would have to request another coffee machine, shame since they just got attached to that new on too.



Qing smiled to his assistant, ignoring the possible implications of her words, "Just get me the presentation things ready. I'll be in starting the meeting by that point but don't be afraid to walk in."

Turning back to the table he picked up the phone and dialed one of his commanding officer in Black Orchestra, "Tian Tian, how do our forces look right now? I want to make sure that we can put on enough of a show to scare those criminals back into their dark sewer holes when we land."

Of course, there was only one real criminal Qing wanted to go after, but putting on a show of force never hurt anyone. It might actually help him get some more support in America.

As his musing continued, the meeting was to begin. He straightened himself out and combed his hair before sitting up straight as the projector awoke once more and the aging face of the current CEO of IBM flashed on with his board of directors next to him. One by one they all greeted him as if he was a prince of a far away land.
"Greetings friends," Qing began his own introduction after they finished their's, "Let us make business."