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leomona, who wanted something from my Circus 'verse, my sort of superhero team. Heh. From this meme.
Title: First Meetings
Rating: PG
Universe: Circus
Characters/Pairings: Alban, Clarity, Joseph, Sandy, Frank, Ethan, Mike.
Summary: Alban and Clarity, recently drafted to the Project, meet the rest of the team
Wordcount: 2089
Warnings: Erm. Grumpy people? That's about it.
Notes: Critique welcomed. I'm trying to get back into the swing of original writing.
Claimer: This one's all mine, baby. Heh.
leomona, who wanted something from my Circus 'verse, my sort of superhero team. Heh. From this meme.Title: First Meetings
Rating: PG
Universe: Circus
Characters/Pairings: Alban, Clarity, Joseph, Sandy, Frank, Ethan, Mike.
Summary: Alban and Clarity, recently drafted to the Project, meet the rest of the team
Wordcount: 2089
Warnings: Erm. Grumpy people? That's about it.
Notes: Critique welcomed. I'm trying to get back into the swing of original writing.
Claimer: This one's all mine, baby. Heh.
First Meetings
They were escorted to their new 'base' (a word for which he couldn't help but read 'prison') by a series of armed gentlemen that Alban should probably have made a note of, but couldn't quite bring himself to, on the grounds that he had no interest in becoming actually involved with this madman's endeavour, and also because they seemed to be largely interchangeable anyway. Clarity, beside him, didn't seem any more interested than he, though that could be hard to tell, with her. She didn't meet their eyes, anyway, staring past their left ear in a way that left a good number of them more than a little unnerved. Alban had caught her little smirk as the first of them turned away. He hadn't bothered to disguise his responding snort.
The group waiting for them at the base itself, though, were another question entirely. Hustled into a large, grey meeting room by the latest group of armed nobodies, Alban could feel his hair stand quietly on end, his fingers twitching gently at his sides. Large as the room was, it was far, far too small to hold the five people gathered there, and less again with their own entrance. Beside him, he felt Clarity drift closer, her face going blank and serene.
They stopped in the middle of the room, standing stiff and still and surrounded, while the door clanged shut behind them. Apparently, the Powers That Be wanted them to introduce themselves. And Alban rather doubted they'd be getting out unless present company approved.
If they got out at all.
He looked around the ring of faces, gauging hostility, intent, ability. He had a certain eye, for that sort of thing, in his line of work. A magician has to have a feel for his audience. And a circus performer a feel for his reception, when in many areas those of their kind were not welcome. Alban had always been somewhat skilled at both.
There were two main threats in this group, he thought. One, the pale blond at the main table, directly ahead of them. Icy eyes, that one, and something burning behind them. Something ... unstable. Every instinct Alban had warned that that one was best left alone, though judging by the leadership position the man had claimed, that might not be possible. And then to his left, the lean, dark youth, hair prematurely greyed, watching him with predator's eyes, gauging the threat he in turn presented. With that one, Alban thought, the danger stemmed more from protective instincts, for the boy perched on the table beside him, legs swinging under him and a welcoming grin plastered on his face. He would probably need to be careful, there.
The other two ... well. No danger immediately obvious, though that could be deceptive. The woman to his right, a dark blonde with a cheerful smile, waved at them, and shrugged ruefully, as if in apology for the rest of them. And the last man, a burly, ruddy fellow with an amiable smile, again nodded gently in their direction. Though he did stand worryingly close to the cold man, shoulder propped against him companionably. Any overtures towards one would probably come back to the other. Caution, caution. Hmm.
All in all, aside from the blonde woman, and possibly the child, Alban didn't like their chances. And that was without taking into consideration whatever abilities they might have, as members of this august endeavour. That was the lesser consideration, though. Abilities mattered less than the people who held them, in his experience. An idea of who would strike you was more immediately useful than knowledge of how.
"Hmmm." The icy blond, uncoiling slowly from his seat. Alban shifted to face him, fingers curling lightly into fists. Cold eyes crawled over the pair of them, lingering for rather longer than Alban would like over Clarity. "So you're the last two, hmm?"
Alban felt his lips curl into a sneer, largely defensively. "I don't know," he snipped back. "Are we?" Not smart, not smart, but Alban didn't like the man. He didn't even know him. But he didn't like him.
Icy-eyes lifted his own lip in response, a shimmer of anger moving behind his eyes. "Hmm. Attitude. But yes. You are." He paused, frowning internally at something only he could see. "Or so it now seems. Interesting."
Alban blinked, not following that. Possibly not caring. "Lovely," he said, regardless. "At least we won't have to meet any more of you jokers, then." Clarity's lips twitched beside him, and some of the others, the blonde woman, the burly man, echoed her. The kid grinned outright. Not the dangerous two, though. Naturally not.
"Aw, we're not so bad," the kid spoke up, leaning back on his hands and ignoring the sharp look his guardian shot him. "I mean, you gotta watch out for Joe's temper, there, and Sandy's got a mean shock on her if you rile her, but mostly we're okay ..."
Alban raised an eyebrow, slanting a look in the kid's direction. "If you say so ..." he murmured skeptically, and tried not to smile at the disingenuous grin he got in response.
"Irrelevant!" Icy-eyes snapped, interrupting the moment, moving forward a step threateningly. Alban snapped his attention back to him, shifting slightly to better cover Clarity, who in turn drifted over to unobtrusively cover his back. "Names. Powers. Now."
Alban blinked at him, the string of words for a moment meaningless, the brittle snap in the voice for a second obscuring the demand. A moment, for it to sink in. And then, he smiled, thin and narrow and cold, and shook his head.
"That, sir, you can find out for your own self. I'm in no mood to tell you."
They blinked, at that. Well, most of them. The dark guardian recovered quickly, narrowing his eyes. The burly gentleman seemed not to have been surprised at all, smiling quietly to himself. The kid and the blonde just blinked, the both of them looking ... mildly disappointed, really. And Icy-eyes ... oh, there was temper there, suddenly. A flash, wild and furious.
"Names," he gritted at them. "Powers."
Behind Alban, Clarity shifted warily. She had almost been moving to protest, Alban thought. Almost been about to tell him not to be rude, stubborn. But now she was frowning. Now, she was wary.
"Names," she said, quietly, musically, tilting her head to encompass all of them. "Names, you can have. The rest ... perhaps later." Alban smirked, falling back a half step to rest beside her, smiling down at her.
"No problem," the blonde cut in quickly, smiling queasily in Icy-eyes direction. "How about we introduce ourselves first, hmm? Tell you the pertinent details. Then you can tell us yours in return? How about that?"
Alban raised an eyebrow at her, and said nothing. She appeared to take that as agreement regardless. Or, perhaps, wanted to try anyway, before things got too out of hand.
"Sandra Lymes," she said, grinning a little, and offered her hand. Clarity took it with a small smile of her own. Alban declined. Mostly out of stubbornness. "Call me Sandy. I'm good with electricity." She waved her now sparking hand gently in demonstration, and grinned at them.
"I'm Mike!" the kid piped up, hopping down off his table to come over, bumping 'Sandy' companionably aside. She gave way with good grace. "And that's my brother, Ethan." Nodding to tall, dark and intimidating. "He doesn't talk too much, at least not with strangers. He's a ghostwalker!" Said with all of a child's pride in his big brother, before Mike's face fell a little bit. "We're not really sure what I can do. Though we think I can do something. Joseph says I can, anyway."
Alban frowned at that. "Joseph?" he asked mildly, internally somewhat concerned. Someone who could speak with such authority on other people's abilities was most definitely a worry.
"Mr Many Words, over here," the burly gentleman explained, stepping up and nudging Icy-eyes' shoulder lightly. Alban hid his dismay. "Joseph is a truthspeaker. If he says the kid's got powers, then he has 'em. Trust me." Alban ... would rather not, but he didn't say so. "And I'm Frank Turney, by the way." Holding out a rather large hand, taking Clarity's gently. "Low-level precog. Only about three seconds worth, but there you go."
Alban felt his eyebrow go up again. He probably should stop taking it down. But he smiled wryly. "Hence the lack of surprise at my stubborn streak ..." he murmured softly, and Frank grinned at him.
"Yeah, more or less," the burly precog nodded. "And yourselves?" He smiled, looking at Clarity. "You've a lovely name, miss."
Clarity smiled at him, genuinely so. "Clarity," she confirmed. "Clarity Cooper. I see things."
Frank blinked. "See things?" he asked. The way I ... Oh. No." He stopped, smiling at her. "Not quite the way I do, I see."
She tilted her head, blinking up at him. "That's mildly disconcerting, you know," she told him, quite seriously, and smiled. "But no. I think it's called 'clairvoyance', or something like it, at least. I see things in the present. Just also as far away as you need." She grinned, a little. "It's useful in my line of work."
"Oh?" Sandy asked, leaning in curiously. Clarity smiled at her.
"I tell fortunes," she informed them blithely. "Alban and I, we're circus-folk by trade. And a glimpse at punters' presents tells a lot about their futures ..."
"Circus!" the kid, Mike, cut in. "You guys are from the circus? That's awesome." He turned in place, suddenly, to stare up at Alban, who almost fell back a step instinctively. "Hey, what do you do? And, oh, what's your name, too?"
Alban hesitated, somewhat flustered, but recovered admirably enough, if he didn't say so himself. "Alban," he heard himself offer. "Alban Cooper. And I'm a stage-magician. One of the side-tent acts. Though," he warned suddenly, voice hardening as he looked back at Icy-eyes -Joseph-, "that has little enough to do with my abilities. If I had any."
"You do," Joseph shot back, flatly. "You have power. I will discover what."
Alban smirked, somewhat nastily. "In your own time, then. Because I, at least, will not be telling you."
"Aw, really?" Mike asked, face falling a little. Though he still seemed somewhat enthused by the 'magician' angle. His brother drifted over, then. Rested a quelling hand on the kid's shoulder.
"Enough," the ghostwalker said quietly. "Not our secrets, Michael."
"They are," Joseph snarled, glaring at the darker man. "I will find out."
"Knock yourself out," Alban shot back, rocking forward on the balls of his feet a little. Confrontational? Maybe. But he wasn't at all in a good mood, and didn't at all want to be there, and no-one, no-one, was ever discovering what it was he could do. Not while he had any say at all in it. It was all that kept him alive, sometimes. He was not telling. Especially not this man.
"Could we have a hint, even?" Sandy asked, pacifyingly. "I mean, could you maybe tell us which of our powers it's most similar to, for example?"
Alban sneered, not even caring how rude it was, though he did feel vaguely guilty for her affronted flinch. But then ... Then, something odd happened, and he stopped caring about rudeness or lack thereof.
Joseph froze slightly, cold eyes turning inward for a long moment as his mouth moved through ... what looked like names, like their names, utterly soundless, until, with what looked like shock ... He said his own name. "Joseph," he said, out loud, and suddenly stared at Alban, bored into him. "Mine. His powers are most like mine."
And suddenly the rest of them were staring too, and there was something deep and startlingly worrying in Joseph's eyes, but Alban had concerns of his own. Because that could not be right. His catching field bore no resemblance whatsoever to an ability to, what, tell the truth? Nothing close at all. But the others, even Joseph, reacted as though what he said could be nothing but the truth, so ...
So something was wrong. Something, somewhere. Either with Alban's own abilities, or Joseph's. Something was ... not what they thought.
And, looking around, he was the only one that knew it. And that, that was a worrying thing. That put him in not at all a nice position.
This was going to end badly. This entire endeavour, the whole lot of these people. It was going to end badly. Alban could just tell. He only hoped, at the end of it, that what he had was enough to keep himself and his sister alive.
That was, after all, the whole point of what he was.
They were escorted to their new 'base' (a word for which he couldn't help but read 'prison') by a series of armed gentlemen that Alban should probably have made a note of, but couldn't quite bring himself to, on the grounds that he had no interest in becoming actually involved with this madman's endeavour, and also because they seemed to be largely interchangeable anyway. Clarity, beside him, didn't seem any more interested than he, though that could be hard to tell, with her. She didn't meet their eyes, anyway, staring past their left ear in a way that left a good number of them more than a little unnerved. Alban had caught her little smirk as the first of them turned away. He hadn't bothered to disguise his responding snort.
The group waiting for them at the base itself, though, were another question entirely. Hustled into a large, grey meeting room by the latest group of armed nobodies, Alban could feel his hair stand quietly on end, his fingers twitching gently at his sides. Large as the room was, it was far, far too small to hold the five people gathered there, and less again with their own entrance. Beside him, he felt Clarity drift closer, her face going blank and serene.
They stopped in the middle of the room, standing stiff and still and surrounded, while the door clanged shut behind them. Apparently, the Powers That Be wanted them to introduce themselves. And Alban rather doubted they'd be getting out unless present company approved.
If they got out at all.
He looked around the ring of faces, gauging hostility, intent, ability. He had a certain eye, for that sort of thing, in his line of work. A magician has to have a feel for his audience. And a circus performer a feel for his reception, when in many areas those of their kind were not welcome. Alban had always been somewhat skilled at both.
There were two main threats in this group, he thought. One, the pale blond at the main table, directly ahead of them. Icy eyes, that one, and something burning behind them. Something ... unstable. Every instinct Alban had warned that that one was best left alone, though judging by the leadership position the man had claimed, that might not be possible. And then to his left, the lean, dark youth, hair prematurely greyed, watching him with predator's eyes, gauging the threat he in turn presented. With that one, Alban thought, the danger stemmed more from protective instincts, for the boy perched on the table beside him, legs swinging under him and a welcoming grin plastered on his face. He would probably need to be careful, there.
The other two ... well. No danger immediately obvious, though that could be deceptive. The woman to his right, a dark blonde with a cheerful smile, waved at them, and shrugged ruefully, as if in apology for the rest of them. And the last man, a burly, ruddy fellow with an amiable smile, again nodded gently in their direction. Though he did stand worryingly close to the cold man, shoulder propped against him companionably. Any overtures towards one would probably come back to the other. Caution, caution. Hmm.
All in all, aside from the blonde woman, and possibly the child, Alban didn't like their chances. And that was without taking into consideration whatever abilities they might have, as members of this august endeavour. That was the lesser consideration, though. Abilities mattered less than the people who held them, in his experience. An idea of who would strike you was more immediately useful than knowledge of how.
"Hmmm." The icy blond, uncoiling slowly from his seat. Alban shifted to face him, fingers curling lightly into fists. Cold eyes crawled over the pair of them, lingering for rather longer than Alban would like over Clarity. "So you're the last two, hmm?"
Alban felt his lips curl into a sneer, largely defensively. "I don't know," he snipped back. "Are we?" Not smart, not smart, but Alban didn't like the man. He didn't even know him. But he didn't like him.
Icy-eyes lifted his own lip in response, a shimmer of anger moving behind his eyes. "Hmm. Attitude. But yes. You are." He paused, frowning internally at something only he could see. "Or so it now seems. Interesting."
Alban blinked, not following that. Possibly not caring. "Lovely," he said, regardless. "At least we won't have to meet any more of you jokers, then." Clarity's lips twitched beside him, and some of the others, the blonde woman, the burly man, echoed her. The kid grinned outright. Not the dangerous two, though. Naturally not.
"Aw, we're not so bad," the kid spoke up, leaning back on his hands and ignoring the sharp look his guardian shot him. "I mean, you gotta watch out for Joe's temper, there, and Sandy's got a mean shock on her if you rile her, but mostly we're okay ..."
Alban raised an eyebrow, slanting a look in the kid's direction. "If you say so ..." he murmured skeptically, and tried not to smile at the disingenuous grin he got in response.
"Irrelevant!" Icy-eyes snapped, interrupting the moment, moving forward a step threateningly. Alban snapped his attention back to him, shifting slightly to better cover Clarity, who in turn drifted over to unobtrusively cover his back. "Names. Powers. Now."
Alban blinked at him, the string of words for a moment meaningless, the brittle snap in the voice for a second obscuring the demand. A moment, for it to sink in. And then, he smiled, thin and narrow and cold, and shook his head.
"That, sir, you can find out for your own self. I'm in no mood to tell you."
They blinked, at that. Well, most of them. The dark guardian recovered quickly, narrowing his eyes. The burly gentleman seemed not to have been surprised at all, smiling quietly to himself. The kid and the blonde just blinked, the both of them looking ... mildly disappointed, really. And Icy-eyes ... oh, there was temper there, suddenly. A flash, wild and furious.
"Names," he gritted at them. "Powers."
Behind Alban, Clarity shifted warily. She had almost been moving to protest, Alban thought. Almost been about to tell him not to be rude, stubborn. But now she was frowning. Now, she was wary.
"Names," she said, quietly, musically, tilting her head to encompass all of them. "Names, you can have. The rest ... perhaps later." Alban smirked, falling back a half step to rest beside her, smiling down at her.
"No problem," the blonde cut in quickly, smiling queasily in Icy-eyes direction. "How about we introduce ourselves first, hmm? Tell you the pertinent details. Then you can tell us yours in return? How about that?"
Alban raised an eyebrow at her, and said nothing. She appeared to take that as agreement regardless. Or, perhaps, wanted to try anyway, before things got too out of hand.
"Sandra Lymes," she said, grinning a little, and offered her hand. Clarity took it with a small smile of her own. Alban declined. Mostly out of stubbornness. "Call me Sandy. I'm good with electricity." She waved her now sparking hand gently in demonstration, and grinned at them.
"I'm Mike!" the kid piped up, hopping down off his table to come over, bumping 'Sandy' companionably aside. She gave way with good grace. "And that's my brother, Ethan." Nodding to tall, dark and intimidating. "He doesn't talk too much, at least not with strangers. He's a ghostwalker!" Said with all of a child's pride in his big brother, before Mike's face fell a little bit. "We're not really sure what I can do. Though we think I can do something. Joseph says I can, anyway."
Alban frowned at that. "Joseph?" he asked mildly, internally somewhat concerned. Someone who could speak with such authority on other people's abilities was most definitely a worry.
"Mr Many Words, over here," the burly gentleman explained, stepping up and nudging Icy-eyes' shoulder lightly. Alban hid his dismay. "Joseph is a truthspeaker. If he says the kid's got powers, then he has 'em. Trust me." Alban ... would rather not, but he didn't say so. "And I'm Frank Turney, by the way." Holding out a rather large hand, taking Clarity's gently. "Low-level precog. Only about three seconds worth, but there you go."
Alban felt his eyebrow go up again. He probably should stop taking it down. But he smiled wryly. "Hence the lack of surprise at my stubborn streak ..." he murmured softly, and Frank grinned at him.
"Yeah, more or less," the burly precog nodded. "And yourselves?" He smiled, looking at Clarity. "You've a lovely name, miss."
Clarity smiled at him, genuinely so. "Clarity," she confirmed. "Clarity Cooper. I see things."
Frank blinked. "See things?" he asked. The way I ... Oh. No." He stopped, smiling at her. "Not quite the way I do, I see."
She tilted her head, blinking up at him. "That's mildly disconcerting, you know," she told him, quite seriously, and smiled. "But no. I think it's called 'clairvoyance', or something like it, at least. I see things in the present. Just also as far away as you need." She grinned, a little. "It's useful in my line of work."
"Oh?" Sandy asked, leaning in curiously. Clarity smiled at her.
"I tell fortunes," she informed them blithely. "Alban and I, we're circus-folk by trade. And a glimpse at punters' presents tells a lot about their futures ..."
"Circus!" the kid, Mike, cut in. "You guys are from the circus? That's awesome." He turned in place, suddenly, to stare up at Alban, who almost fell back a step instinctively. "Hey, what do you do? And, oh, what's your name, too?"
Alban hesitated, somewhat flustered, but recovered admirably enough, if he didn't say so himself. "Alban," he heard himself offer. "Alban Cooper. And I'm a stage-magician. One of the side-tent acts. Though," he warned suddenly, voice hardening as he looked back at Icy-eyes -Joseph-, "that has little enough to do with my abilities. If I had any."
"You do," Joseph shot back, flatly. "You have power. I will discover what."
Alban smirked, somewhat nastily. "In your own time, then. Because I, at least, will not be telling you."
"Aw, really?" Mike asked, face falling a little. Though he still seemed somewhat enthused by the 'magician' angle. His brother drifted over, then. Rested a quelling hand on the kid's shoulder.
"Enough," the ghostwalker said quietly. "Not our secrets, Michael."
"They are," Joseph snarled, glaring at the darker man. "I will find out."
"Knock yourself out," Alban shot back, rocking forward on the balls of his feet a little. Confrontational? Maybe. But he wasn't at all in a good mood, and didn't at all want to be there, and no-one, no-one, was ever discovering what it was he could do. Not while he had any say at all in it. It was all that kept him alive, sometimes. He was not telling. Especially not this man.
"Could we have a hint, even?" Sandy asked, pacifyingly. "I mean, could you maybe tell us which of our powers it's most similar to, for example?"
Alban sneered, not even caring how rude it was, though he did feel vaguely guilty for her affronted flinch. But then ... Then, something odd happened, and he stopped caring about rudeness or lack thereof.
Joseph froze slightly, cold eyes turning inward for a long moment as his mouth moved through ... what looked like names, like their names, utterly soundless, until, with what looked like shock ... He said his own name. "Joseph," he said, out loud, and suddenly stared at Alban, bored into him. "Mine. His powers are most like mine."
And suddenly the rest of them were staring too, and there was something deep and startlingly worrying in Joseph's eyes, but Alban had concerns of his own. Because that could not be right. His catching field bore no resemblance whatsoever to an ability to, what, tell the truth? Nothing close at all. But the others, even Joseph, reacted as though what he said could be nothing but the truth, so ...
So something was wrong. Something, somewhere. Either with Alban's own abilities, or Joseph's. Something was ... not what they thought.
And, looking around, he was the only one that knew it. And that, that was a worrying thing. That put him in not at all a nice position.
This was going to end badly. This entire endeavour, the whole lot of these people. It was going to end badly. Alban could just tell. He only hoped, at the end of it, that what he had was enough to keep himself and his sister alive.
That was, after all, the whole point of what he was.
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