Yun couldn't believe it.  She was still reeling days later from the audacity of the boy that walked out and refused to die.  They'd searched for him, knew he'd be with Vega, but killing him on Vega's property was counterproductive.  

Though Vega was about to have a problem with the boy from his reaction to the weapon.  What little good it had done for her.  He was inconsequential, except he knew who she was, and what she was apart of.  That meant death if she couldn't keep her leash on him.

But the boy had given her much thought.  The Atharim had their fingers everywhere, but she knew that with Vega, but the extensive connections that was something to harness.  A little give and a little take, but that was a hard won endeavor.  But that was why she had people who worked for her.

Yun would play hard ball with the information she had.  There was a boy god on the loose.  Surely that meant something to them.  Specially when he was one of their own.  A little give and a little take, she thought to herself again even as she sent the orders out to contact these Atharim.  Some one would find her on the dark web.  They had to have a means of contact and she'd find it - eventually.

[[ Feel free to jump in location can be anywhere Yun's I didn't specify anything for that reason.  Those that have an invitation to her house are welcome to pop in, and she can be anywhere in her day job.  ]]

Xander was tinkering away on a video-edit when the message arrived. Knowing exactly who it was, he rapidly delivered it to his boss.
“Laurie,” he interrupted her concentration on the screen. Always digging, she never stopped. Message delivered, she bit her bottom lip in that way that meant she was torn. He started to leave when she called out. “Get us flights, would ya Xander? Whatever gets us out first thing.”

A swipe erased all current screens and replaced them with a blank one. The search began. The first keyword was a name supplied by Natalie Grey. The website of a pharmaceutical company soon loaded.

Within 24-hours, she was home.

New wiki entry: Ogier.

Related post: Arrival

It was an odd sensation, that of his arm moving in an arc before him and visually seeing the rendering of its copy n the digital space. His best VR specialist explained the process for the Ascendancy, who operated similar constructs previously, but the metaphysical notion echoed a sense of awe to this day. The idea summoned thoughts of the definition of reality; questions first posed by Plato, later Descartes to no avail. Modern man had yet to reach a consensus. What was reality? Was life a simulation of neural maps controlled by masterminds of the universe? Did it matter?

Nikolai's physical body stood within a sphere that projected the view of their connection with such resolution, he might as well have reached out to confirm its existence. Reality persisted, warped and changed. The floor moved with his steps, allowing for movement. The definition didn't matter after all.

Given the short time frame, the rendering of their digital meeting space was rather simple: the interior of a Buddhist temple. A thatched ceiling was held far above by wooden beams. Warmth gleamed around them with unnatural light. The floor was deep gray stone. No furniture, no décor, no windows. Yet, somehow, the environment was fitting. It reminded him of the Datsan that Wilhelm Ravhid burned to the ground in that first attempt at assassination. Was this Regus aware of his predecessor's failed legacy?

The time approached. Nikolai did not fidget at his suit jacket nor did he tug at his sleeves. He merely waited, hands behind his back, holding a small stream of the powers of the universe within his soul. Darkness wafted at his feet like smoke, as though the wood smoldered with his steps.

A flicker, and the mortal man appeared.

Enter a cute puppy in the middle of the day.  Kids playing in a park in the background.  A loud thump echos through the park followed by another as if something heavy were striding this way.

The cute puppy is scooped up by a massive hand covered in green scales and long thick ugly claws.  A splash of blood and entrails splash across the camera.  Yelling and running and mass panic of the park ensue.

Enter a lone man, dressed in dark leathers, sporting a new technomech cross-bow wearing a necklace of varying size teeth around his neck. Panning back to see the whole see, the creature, large and massive resembling a scaly looking bear with thick armor plating for skin.  The man knocks the bow.  Aims.  The bolt flies through the air and pierces the eye socket of the massive green creature and it collapses to the ground in a heap to the cheers of the crowd around.

Over the cheers Li Tan speaks.  Monsters are real. Magic is real. (Images of Ascendancy's feat play in the background) The world is no longer what you thought it was. Learn from the masters.  Join me in the battle against the darkness that is to come. Defend your life or become one with the power with in.  Classes starting for all levels at The Monkey King's School of the Mystical Arts.

Address and website flash before the scream fades to black at the sound of a massive roar.

National Geographic wanted to send a whole entorage with her and Sierra declined repeatedly.  "I don't need all of you trapsing behind me.  Stay here I'll call if I need you to pick me up."  She had a satelite phone with GPS for that very reason.  Their expense!

So by the time Sierra was alone in the pack lands she could feel the peace of the woods.  The world was right.  There were no two-legs around for miles and miles.  It was bliss.

Never pounced around Sierra's feet, his exuberance was infections.  She sent a image that said she was coming as fast as her legs could carry her, and he returned it with the equivalent of an eye roll.  Kids of any species were always the same.  But it made Sierra happy to have a companion with her.  Out of sight of two-leggers Sierra had taken out her contacts and she felt free - more her self than ever before.  There was something about the lands where wolves roamed free that made her happy.

She reached out into the winds looking for pack.  Images of safe, and home and may I come to you?  Her pack was far away, but she reached out to the locals.  It was custom, but what she found was restlessness.  She sent an image of her and her pup, looking for pack, needing pack.  But more importantly wanting pack.  The images came back the same, strange things afoot.  Wariness.  

Sierra sent out the offer to help.  Which was accepted, with a bit of caution.  But the wolf divulged their location and Sierra told them she'd be there soon.  They'd be there.  But it was a distance yet.  

Sierra slung her deer skin pack over her shoulder and insured her camera was safely around her neck before setting off in the direction of pack.  And now the fun begins she thought to Never who only happily agreed.

After walking out of the cafe Nox used every talent he had to avoid anyone getting a clear shot at him.  If the distraction of his power didn't dissuade them, that would at least keep him alive long enough to disappear.  Nox could only hope the bitch would give up.  At least long enough to disappear completely.  Money was a problem.  He had some saved up and he'd not been spending much living with Dorian, and Dorian had paid him to shepherd Cruz around, but that was over now.  Cruz would have to deal with the Atharim on his own, he was capable.  Nox wasn't going to help Dorian.  Not for the price of his own head, fuck that.

Even the walk home hadn't curbed Nox's anger, he only stewed in it.  And when no one actually tried to kill him, Nox dropped the power and everything tumbled into his head.  How could he be so stupid?  On so many accounts.  Dorian was a fucking traitor - no question about it.  The man was nothing but a selfish prick and Nox should have known.  What kinda man despises his father?  What kinda man joins the police just to spy on them?  And then he turns tail on them because his son is a god?  What was to say he'd not turn on anyone else just to save his boy.  Even the same person who was protecting him.  Fuck that!

Nox didn't know where he'd go.  But he was gone - it didn't matter where.  Nox walked up the drive way and punched in the servants code into the side door and after he pushed the door open it smashed into the wall behind it.  He was angry and it was seeping into his actions.  Nox was grateful the stairs were down close by and he hopped down them three at a time making a loud noise.  There was no question about his temper at the moment.  Dorian better not show his fucking face anytime soon, Nox thought to himself.

The cool basement air was home and there was a sense of nostalgia and loss as he stormed into his room and started thrusting clothes into his duffle bag.

Nikolai jostled in his seat for the hundredth time so hard the only thing kept him from falling out of it were a pair of hefty straps clasped over his shoulders. His glare rolled above a wan expression, challenging the soldier nearby to keep his quiet. Another ”apologies for the turbulence, Ascendancy” and he might obliterate the man, but only after vomiting on him first. Seizing the power now would be torture.

As obliteration of anyone was an unwise decision given his life was cradled in the hands of the Custody navy, he let his gaze roll to the rivets behind. The flight was unbearable. Two hours later, Nikolai would have thanked the deities, dead or alive, to touch solid ground again. Travel by navy transport was not a frequent activity for him, thankfully, used only for the most covert of needs. His personal jet was recognizable immediately. Today called for stealth.

In the cold war, the base in which he found himself was the most formidable of the Russian Northern fleet. Today, custody armament was far more sophisticated than the nearby, watery graveyards that sunken submarines suggested. Antiquity was one reason for his presence, but as the first prickle of icy air tingled his cheeks, he pulled the hood of his jacket high and eagerly crossed the tarmac to approach the second. Extensive construction surrounded them. Newly recommissioned bunkers, auxiliary buildings, and shipyard infrastructure stretched the horizon, but the majority of construction was not apparent. Most of the actual reinforcement was underground.

A high-ranking commander met him just inside the command center. Wearing a stately uniform, the man was a grizzly bear of formidable size with a handle-bar moustache as thick as his leaden accent.
“Welcome, Ascendancy,” Andrei Bulgarkov dipped his head. The others around the room saluted respectfully. Nik’s study slid unflinchingly along them all, falling finally to a figure all in black: Michael Vellas.

The infuriating man barely looked up.

A few minutes off the plane, and Nikolai was already wreathed within the masks of his own steely exterior. He ignored Vellas in favor of Commander Bulgarkov.

Most of what the naval officer described next were related to construction updates and decisions about logistical details that Nikolai neither cared to hear nor understood anyway. Work was progressing. Their goal approached. That was all that mattered. Money was guzzled, but Nik expected as much given the task. He clasped his hands behind his back and listened until posing a simple question.

“And the weapon?”
Commander Bulgarkov turned to Vellas. It was clear who was in charge of their tests.

“Failure.” He stated with brutal honesty.
Tight jaws and square shoulders were the only reaction. The Ascendancy nodded quietly: such was the reason for his presence today.
“Then let’s get to work.”

Olivia was born to Igor and Katerina Sokolov in the fall of 2023. Her parents worked hard to provide a safe home for her and her younger brother Andrei. 

Katerina was an AI analyst, responsible for evaluating and treating the various AIs created and used in the tech field. Being exposed to the vastness of the the internet (and its users), AIs could be (rather easily) influenced to adopt racist, bigoted, homophobic or even violent idealogies. Protections and ethical guidelines had to be programmed in and their "mental" health monitored.

Even so, being an emergent intelligence of complexity, a gestalt of massive stacks of programming, learning algorithms, and hardware layers, their evaluation and maintenance came under the care of what could essentially be seen as AI therapists using holistic probing methodologies. That was what Katerina did. 

Igor, by contrast, owned a florist shop, delighting in creating artistic renditions with living plants.

Together, professions night and day, they created a home of warmth and love and peace for Liv and Andrei, a place where they could pursue their dreams and be secure in discovering who they were.

Olivia's first crush was a girl named Ling. She was 11. She was shy about telling her Mother. At the same time, she had never been afraid to share her feelings with her before before. Mother, though, noticed she wasn't herself and asked her to walk with her to the market. Along the way they stopped at a coffeeshop and sat down, away from the icy cold. The warmth was inviting and mother so kind and gentle. She confessed to her about her feelings.

And that was that. No drama. No speeches. Just content acceptance. Mother must have told father, but if so Olivia never knew when. Father never treated her any differently.

So when she'd worked up the courage to ask a girl to be her date to a dance a year or two later, no one batted an eyelash.

Liv loved working with her father in his shop. The flowers and plants were so beautiful, especially when arranged so wonderfully under his eye.

She was drawn to beauty. By the end of school, she was determined to be an artist. She painted on canvas, sketched using charcoal on paper, and scultped with clay. Each medium seemed to have its own temperment and feel. And she loved discovering what that uniqueness was. And she took piano and guitar lessons just because.

She was generally happy. Mostly. The one dark memory being Alana. Her best friend since childhood. She was 17 when she realized her feelings for Alana had changed. They had grown. Her heart ached when they were apart. And when together she was in a different kind of hell, as she wondered and hoped and prayed  for her feelings to be returned. Every word, every playful laugh or joke was now looked at through desperate lenses.

An attempted kiss ended it for them. Alana tried, she did. But it was just too weird after that. They could never get back to normal. And Liv couldnt just make herself stop feeling that way.

Her first year as an art major at university should have been a time for fun and exploration. But the loss of Alana- her best friend and first love- crippled her. It was so easy to get lost in school and just be an introvert.

Laila changed that. Fiery. Exciting. Free. She was everything Liv imagined. They moved fast, eventually living together. And for the first year or two it was good. Mostly.

Toxic relationships are not so clear when a person is in them, she realized later.

In the end though, she was broken, wanting to die. Now doing general studies, wrist in a cast, she couldnt go home. She was too ashamed. She couldn't explain to anyone. She was no longer an art major. And she was always hiding. She couldn't face them.

Wandering Krutitsy Monestary near the Kremlin, trying to find God somewhere among the trees and buildings, she instead found herself under a stone stairway. On her knees sobbing, she finally opened her heart, pouring our her soul to God. Her last rites. She was done.

But God, in his infinite kindness sent his angel, her wings quiet and warm, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. As if in vision, the world lit up. Like God was showing her the true beauty of life as he saw things.

And she grasped, clinging to that.The peace and strength of God enfolded her. And it was enough.

Days later, in her childhood bed, God finally let go. But it had been enough. She had found the courage to leave. She fell ill for days, but father and mother never left her side.

And after she got better, eventually she was out again. Soon she started her classes- in Microbiology now. And after that, took a job at a coffee shop. Her family, her school, her job. That was her world.

And it was enough. Occasionally, she feels God's angel near her. Usually after she pours her heart out in prayer. She smiles when that happens. She knows she is not alone.