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To: Jonas Valkanov <jvalkanov@podenart.org>
CC:
BCC:
Subject: Exhibit Hunting. Out of Office.

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Hello Jonas,

I'm going to follow a few leads for additions to the new Anomalies Exhibit. I'll be out of the office for the next month, at minimum.


Thank you,

Thomas Roxwell
Executive Curator
Poden Museum of Art and Technology

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Thomas stood away from his desk and strolled outside, lighting a cigarette along the way—with business taken care of, he could afford to dedicate his full attention to new pieces that he could acquire for Poden's developing anomaly showcase. Shortly after leaving the museum, his phone vibrated in his coat pocket. He took a quick moment to glance across the details of the notice; it appeared that his contact had managed to track down several rare pieces for the collection—most prominently, a new kind of anomaly enhancer being distributed across underground circles.
An excellent find indeed.

This contact had always managed to be reliable for Thomas; they were called Pac Man, the only person able to chew through anything and everything to find you the data you want online. Or, at least so they say. While the thought of a nigh-unstoppable digital force named after a sixty year old video game bemused him, some of the lengths he had seen people go to hide information made him doubt the apparent omniscience they seemed to possess. There would eventually come a day when this person would run out of tricks and Thomas could move to the next virtual savant. But still, when it came to hunting down the data he wanted, he had yet to see the horizon of Pac Man's limit.

Briefcase in hand, Thomas made his way downtown through the Governing District and offered his customary pause in front of the statue of President Gerald Wright to pay respect to another victim of Equinox. While there were other high-profile deaths, the statue stood as a grim reminder of the still-raw wounds of the recovering nation. Once the moment passed, he stepped across the district line into Downtown Vorpool and entered the all-too-familiar West Star Casino. Sauntering past two muscle-bound behemoths patrolling the floor, Thomas approached the private poker rooms and set his briefcase on the floor next to him, lighting a fresh cigarette before sitting down.
"I do hope my tardiness hasn't interrupted today's proceedings."

Stretching out with a quiet yawn, Sims rolled over in bed, lightly tapping the top of the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand table, putting an end to its piercing beeps. While most people would have found such sounds annoying, Craig did not. As a matter of fact he was grateful for the noise, startling as it was, for it was a large part of what kept his life flowing as smoothly as it did. Well, it and a rather strict sleeping schedule. Plopping onto his back Craig sat up, his bones popping as he went, and reached for the clothes he had laid out the night before and began to change, hopping on one foot as he pulled up his pants. Slipping on a pair of socks and some sneakers, he made his way out into the living room and got started on breakfast. A light meal compared to most, but one that was sure to keep his energy levels up throughout the day.

Something he'd need if the amount of cases this week was anything like last. Teams like his were practically overworked on a near daily basis, with people from all walks of life being brought in for one accident or another. In all honesty, the ways in which a human being could harm themselves was simply astounding. Broken bones, torn ligaments, internal bleeding, and god only knew what else with the arise of powers following the Equinox. Finishing his bowl of oatmeal, he gave it a quick rinse and placed it onto the rack as he headed out the door, locking it once he was outside. Striding over to his car he climbed inside, started the engine, and began his commute to work. One that would take him through Vorpool's uptown area, straight to the city's medical district and right to the ER at which he worked.

Assuming, of course, that traffic wasn't absolutely horrendous today.

………………………

A few hours of driving, and narrowly missing a rather irate individual barreling their way down the highway, later and Craig finally arrived at work. The cracked asphalt of the parking lot crunched mutely underneath the tires of his Malibu as he pulled into his customary spot. Clambering out of his vehicle, he made his way into the emergency ward of Vorpool General and got ready for the long day ahead. Washing up he took off his sneakers and slipped into his personal protective equipment, which consisted of a pair of scrubs, latex gloves, surgical mask, cap, and clogs with disposable coverings. Taking a moment to ensure everything was squared away, and his personal affects safely stowed in the locker he had been assigned, Craig made his way over to the trauma ward, giving perfunctory nods to those he passed along the way.

"Alright," he muttered, his gaze trailing over the busy room as he stepped inside. "Lets get started."

The alarm clock finally stopped chirping after the tenth snooze alarm button had been pressed. The red-headed woman sat up in bed and turned on her bedside lamp with one hand while patting down her messy hair with the other. It was quiet in her room, no matter what was going on outside her room barely let any of that noise inside. The bedroom had been built as a large Faraday cage to not allow electromagnetic frequencies to enter the room and it had also been soundproofed on top of that customization. It served as a saferoom from the chaos of that was constantly happening in Vorpool and the world. She sat there for close to thirty minutes just sifting through her thoughts before she decided to roll out of bed, threw on some leggings and a tank top before taking a deep breath and opening up her door to the rest of her apartment and the noise of the entire world.

Angel's apartment was a converted warehouse on the edge of Uptown and the Culture district and had a large open floor plan with the only real room being the bedroom that had been specially built. She had paid the landlord a good amount of money to leave her alone and not ask any questions, he probably thought she was just some rich kid that was spending her parents money and didn't want any questions to be asked. One side of the place was filled with computer components and a full server rack that was shut down and disconnected at the moment. The other side of the room taken up by three floor to ceiling windows that were covered by heavy theater curtains on motorized rails that were currently only letting a slight sliver of light sneak into the room. The room was largely lacking furniture with only a single leather couch and chair in the middle of the room next to a support pillar and a work bench next to the server rack where all the computer parts were resting on.

The room could appear quite and peaceful for most people with only the sound of the city filing the large room, but to Angel who could see all the data in the world it might as well be the noisest room in the world. She headed over to the fridge while looking through the daily news to see that the government was trying to pass a bil for annual ability testing which was not good. Her day didn't get any better when she found out that she was out of milk meaning she would have to eat her cereal dry again.

After finishing her lackluster breakfast, the greatest hacker in the world grabbed a plain black hoodie matching her black leggings and than laced up her addidas running shoes before grabbing a small panda covered backpack and her phone from the the wall hangers next to the door. She opened up the backpack to make sure her ID and a rubber banded wad of cash were inside as she sparingly used debit and credit cards and would instead opt for straight electronic payment if she had to. "Come on Angel, today is a not yesterday. You can do this, just one step at a time. Don't worry about anyone else." She told herself as she looked at the front door. "Easy trip to the grocery store and right back. Not like anyone knows who you really are." With that final piece of reassurance she left the apartment for a quick run to the grocery store.

Violet awoke to the sounds of of twenty-year old music, the last time music had been good in her opinion, blaring from her alarm clock at exactly 3:13 p.m. Unfortunately for her, it was one of those new "robot" alarm clocks that runs around the room like a headless chicken, so she was forced to actually get up and catch it to turn the damned thing off. Fortunately, on the other hand, by the time she caught it she was wide awake and less angry at the machine, meaning it got to live another day. This left her with just enough time to eat a frozen pizza, uncooked, and get dressed in her usual outfit of a black shirt, jeans, and a red coat before she had to leave. On the way out she grabbed her weapons, a pistol placed in a holster, tacked on as part of her coat, which sat just above her butt, a katana that was attached by wire upside-down to her hip, and several small canisters both full of liquid and empty that she placed inside her coat.

She jumped onto her so-called "vehicle" a contraption that was made by sticking together four skateboards, a motor, and a garden chair with a lot of hope and the dreams of small children, and began rowing her way to work. She passed several students on the sidewalks heading in the opposite direction, on their way home from the Education District, many of whom she knew on a first-name basis. But now was not the time, now was the time for getting her workout and getting to her workplace, so she switched sides and continued rowing with simply a wave to those she knew. She managed to make it to the bar with 30 seconds to spare which was plenty of time to park in the grass behind it, run inside, and take over for the current bartender.

It was about an hour later that she sighed and mentally cursed out her friend. First the government wanted to do more testing, and then on top of that she had to worry about that lovable idiot? The death in the news didn't phase her, but she was upset at pretty much everything else she'd heard so far on the job. She'd have to chew her out later.

Misty waltzed out of her last and favorite class of the day: Material Science. Now that a week of trudging along, listening to old people rattle on and on about things she didn't really care about was over, she finally had the opportunity to spend time with people she disliked less.

"Hey Misty! Are you going to Derrick's party tonight?"

Misty rolled her mind's eye; the annoying figurehead of eternal peppiness called Tammy once again decided to broach her personal bubble, sporting her signature puke-green bow. And not only was she intruding on her personal space, but she was stepping on the browallias that sprung up wherever Misty walked. Sure, they evaporated after she traveled ten feet, but it was still a really uncool thing to do. Misty quickly switched the flowers to roses in hopes that the thorns would end up pricking her along the way.

"I've got other plans this weekend, so I'm gonna have to pass!" A wink accompanied the rejection.

"Whaaaaaaat?? Come on, you're, like, the life of the party!"

"Nnnnnope! Like I said, plans!"

"Don't tell me you're hanging out with that popsicle loser again. Look, if you're strapped for cash, plenty of people there would buy—"

"I~ Have~ Plans~!" Misty replied in the singsongy way only she could. "Besides, I've got my fill of partying for the week; ask me next time!" With her final response, she jogged away backwards, waving at Tammy.

"At least come to Matt's next week, okay??"

Misty brandished two thumbs-up and turned around swiftly before she materialized roller skates onto her feet and kicked off the ride downtown, weaving in and out of the slow-moving traffic. After a series of shortcuts, car honks, and making faces at drones, she rolled up to her black hole of time, the Twin Star Bar. She let her skates disintegrate beneath her feet as she climbed the sharp concrete stairs and approached the entrance. Strolling into the building like it was her thousandth time there, which, granted, wasn't all that far off, she summoned from the ether a custom embroidered bar stool with a pink leather seat in the empty spot left for her.

"Heeeeeeyyy!" Misty leaned over the bar and flashed Violet an ear-to-ear grin. "Give me the sweetest stuff you've got."

The blue skinned man had awoken early, clad in red and black garments, his mantislike arms hidden under the black cape hanging over his attire, his face slightly concealed by the equally dark hood which was attached to said cape. Today was a special day. The day to find the key to open the door to the future. Kangxian, also known as Peacock Mantis by most was perceiving from afar how a young woman was exiting her home.

Possibly still unaware of the mantis that was lying in wait for her to step forth, which she did. And Kangxian followed the young woman, she seemed to be heading for the nearby grocery store. The man placed himself a distance behind her, scanning his surroundings for any government official or possible agent. Each car, mobile or stationary was observed for possible spies. Any security cameras would also find themselves being avoided by the hooded man which was slowly drawing closer to the young woman.

"Do you have the password for the Wifi? I require some online services you see. Though the connection here is bad. Not to mention there always being someone looking over your back hoping to see what you are doing. People are awfully curious and nosy about things not involving them." The man said upon reaching close enough to Angel, a slight upturn forming at the corner of his lips. His eyes momentarily revealing themselves from under his hood, trying to get eye-contact with Angel.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Dian Kangxian, but you might know me by another name. Peacock Mantis." He said in a far softer tone of voice, his eyes darting about for a moment before setting back to Angel. "I hear you are an able person when it comes to computers, unless the rumors are exaggerated?"

Craig flashed the man a consoling smile as he operated on his leg, the bone of which had been fractured in a rather nasty bike related accident. Although they had given him a local anesthetic, the pain still managed to creep through on occasion. It was no matter though, for Sims knew what he was doing and would have this man walking again in no time. Letting his finger hover over the exposed femur, he began to mend it, moving in a steady upwards motion until the fracture disappeared. Carefully removing the forceps holding the man's flesh apart, he sealed up the wound. A slow process as he had to repair each part layer by layer, with the muscles first and the skin last, all while painstakingly reconnecting hundreds of nerve endings, the unpleasantness of which shone clearly on his patients face.

Once all was said and done however, Mr. Peterson was up and about in no time, shifting his weight from foot to foot experimentally before finally accepting the fact his limb was no longer in danger. After making a few laps around his sectioned off part of the room, Peterson made his way over to Sims, taking the man's hand in his and shaking it profusely.

"I cannot thank you enough sir."

Craig returned the shake with a small chuckle.

"There is no need," he said. "I'm just doing the best I can with what I've been given, just like everyone else."

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Sims guided the man back to the central wing of the hospital, watching briefly as he was processed and released before making his way back to the emergency ward, his mind a tumble. It still shocked him honestly, how new this all was to people. It had been some time since the Equinox itself, meaning humanity had plenty of time to grow at least somewhat accustomed to its newfound power, yet people still seemed surprised when someone like himself healed their wounds via the power of the mind. Then again powers such as that didn't exist back then, with accounts of such being relegated to flights of fancy. Passing delusions that no one put much stock in.

Till now that is.

So maybe that was why. Maybe the events of the Equinox were still too new, too strange, for people to accept the fact that they now lived in a reality that truly was stranger than fiction.

Thomas raised the stakes by another fifteen grand. The musings of the entourage had been entertaining enough thus far, but there were bigger scores at stake than a measly few thousand.

"Vorpool has been more active recently. What's gotten the city wound up as of late?"

A gruff voice answered him. "People are spun all up by Gilleon's robbery and the mandated evaluations the feds are gonna be pushing." The burly, silk-clad man continued. And that'sta say nothing about the drug trade."

Thomas listened to the first two grievances with passing interest. Gilleon Bank was famous for flaunting its so-claimed impenetrable security, but with the caliber of people he had run across in the past three years, it came to no surprise that someone was able to slip in and out undetected. In fact, it was more surprising that it took someone this long to breach the bank after they had taunted the city's underbelly for as long as they had. As for the anomaly re-testing, everyone without their head in the sand knew the government was going to be doing something underhanded—but for the sake of national security, anything the bigwigs wanted to do could be justified. They could shoot every Epsilon in the capital without stirring up any kind of serious opposition if it was really a part of the agenda. It might even be better in the long run, as it were.

No, the third comment was what had caught his interest. "Drug trade, you say? What's been the commotion there?" Thomas lit another cigarette and gripped it with the corner of his mouth—it seemed this little tangent wouldn't be so fruitless after all.

"I hears that they're getting hooked out there on some new chemicals. Some've them boost their strength, and then others are cheap imitations of the real things. But all of 'em are spiraling out of control. They say Downtown's festering with the stuff, 'specially in the slums." Fascinating. Thomas' Friday sessions never failed to disappoint; the information he earned almost always ended up being more valuable that whatever he might win that evening and tonight was no exception.

...

"Well, gentlemen. It's been enjoyable, but I believe I've won." Thomas placed his hand on the table, containing a measly pair of aces. "Better time next week. With any luck, we'll all have some higher quality hands." Thomas reached forward and carried his winning chips with him to the counter. The drug trade. If today's session was any indication, he would need to pay some of his less... respectable contacts a visit this evening. Exiting the Casino, Thomas leisurely strolled toward the heart of downtown.

Violet turned around and grabbed a few ingredients. "One 'Diabetes Praline,' coming up!" She took 1 part honey to 2 parts cherry vodka and mixed it half and half with 1 part lemonade to 2 parts blueberry syrup, throwing it spinning into the air a few times to mix it before flash-freezing it and shaking it profusely to break it up into a slush. Finally she poured it into a glass and slid it to Misty.

"New recipe I thought up, you're the first to try it." she said with a grin. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned in to her friend. "You've got to be more careful. Especially with the gov. trying to pull this new testing shit. If they pulled their heads out of their asses long enough to think about people's powers more than two seconds, people like us are screwed. Congrats on getting into the rumor mill though, finally."

Violet turned away for a moment to serve another patron a drink before returning. "So, got any fun plans?"

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@Nimda