Athinar — Roleplayer Guild

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Slow down, Angel.  Take a few deep breaths and relax.  I was not trying to stress you out with what I said, I’m just trying to keep things real with you. The truth of the matter is that there the only person who can decide your purpose is you, pal. There is no ominous force that tells you what’s right and what’s wrong, no higher power holding your hand, and if there is they’re just an asshole trying to get you on their side. At the end of the day, the only person you get to hold accountable is yourself.  You can’t blame anyone else for the actions you take and you can’t go back and change them, no matter how much it is going to keep you awake at night.”@NeutralNexus

The mercenary clapped him on the shoulder, looking at him in the eye. Angel, unsure of how to deal with the sudden advice, looked down, not able to look back at Trent. However, with the shoulder clap came some advice. Without mistakes, how would anyone even know what not to do? He told Angel that it was only human, that everyone, even if they didn't make the same mistake, makes mistakes at some point. Angel agreed with the mercenary's statement, but... Angel wasn't supposed to have made such a stupid mistake in the first place.

Forcing Angel to look him in the eyes, Trent continued. 

“Take it from me, Angel.  You have a hell of a heart, and that’s something to be friggin’ proud of.  You could take those powers and do anything, you could coast for the rest of your life hacking old lady’s bank accounts and living off their credit cards until you grow old and die, but you don’t.  You pick your ass up and try to save your city, damned what the law says. Are you going to screw up sometimes?  Absolutely, everyone does, but it’s our actions in the face of challenge that makes us who we are, that’s part of letting your actions stand for what you believe. You don’t need this half-assed pep talk to work for it every goddamn day of your goddamn life.  You know what you want to do, and you will do anything to get it.  That is the one definitive thing I see when I look at you, and that’s something I see as one hell of a good thing.  Just stay true to who you are and nobody will have the right to judge you for it.”@NeutralNexus

Letting go of his shoulder, and floating upwards, Trent told him that it was time for him to leave, and that Angel should lay low for a while. Nodding, Angel was about thank Trent, but the merc kept speaking, so the young man shut his mouth, and listened. What he said was worth listening to. He could keep the money, AND he didn't lose the fight? Wow. Trent was way more generous than Angel had gave him credit for, before their talk. 

Smiling now, over his sadness (for now,) he gave him a big thumbs up, and said, "I'll be sure to not hold back! Thanks for the talk, man!"

Turning around, and stepping towards the dented garage door in the ATD, he bent down, and grabbing it by the bottom, pushed it upward, and with the sound of screeching metal, it gave, slamming against the top of the track. Looking inside, Angel groaned. The place was an absolute mess. With bits of metal, debris from the ceiling and walls, and the robotic arms strewn about the floor, there was no way he was about to move back in. Dammit. Why must S.T.R.I.K.E. not let me have nice things?

Reaching out with his metahuman ability, Angel tried to access any working machine, but everything was pretty much destroyed. There were two things he could possibly activate, the monitor on the floor, and the speaker system in his office, and with the thorium reactor disabled, there was no way they would start without power. Stepping inside, and walking through the wreckage, nudging aside shattered robotic arms, shards of metal, and general debris, he dropped out of the cockpit, looking over the recharge station, to see if there was anything to salvage. 

Landing in a crouch, he stood up, and stretched, popping his back, then cracking his knuckles. He had work to do, picking up what he could salvage. It would be unwise for him to stay in the same place, so  he would need to find another base. Sifting among the wreckage, he would work late into the night, picking up useful bits and pieces, and gathering them into trash bags, tying them all together with a bungee cord that was miraculously still in one piece. Synching up with the ATD suit, he picked them all up, and carried them in the massive hand. Clambering back up into the cockpit, he left the ruined factory. He did feel bad about all of the progress lost, and the loss of a bunch of equipment, but at least he wasn't in S.T.R.I.K.E.'s clutches. Heading into the night, out into the darkness of the roadside beyond the sparse roadlights, Angel pulled up a map of available buildings in Lost Haven. 

A large facility, on the outskirts of town to the north, an abandoned automobile factory, was one of the more promising ones, with ample opportunity to salvage, a large facility which he could easily mask most signatures under the heavy concrete and steel beams. However, a renovation of the place would take forever, and Angel couldn't risk getting caught by S.T.R.I.K.E. with his pants down, defenseless. 

Another option was a garage in the French Quarter, which seemed to be for sale, and while it wasn't in an abandoned neighborhood, it had thick walls, which should mask some of the sound of the work he would be doing. In addition to that, it was close to the University, and he would have a cover story of being a student, working at the garage to pay for college. They both had advantages, but... it would be a serious decision. However, the advantages to the garage in the French Quarter were too great, the building would be secure, it was in a loud neighborhood, and most importantly, S.T.R.I.K.E. wouldn't expect him to go there. 

Placing a call to a truck rental place, Angel stepped out of the ATD, taking a deep breath of the night air. 

And waited.
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