We Don't Want To Anger Morven

[Matías]

Matias steadied himself, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. His jaw was throbbing, a dull, insistent pain that spiked sharply whenever he moved his lips. Anger simmered in his chest, a hot, tight knot that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat. "Commander Vellas,” he began, his voice hoarse, the words laced with a bitter edge, "my 'talents’, as you put it, are very specific, but thus far I am not keen to share it with you. "

He paused, taking a shallow breath that did little to ease the throbbing now flushing his skull, likely a bruise flowering beneath his skin from the force of the punch. "I came here in good faith, under the flag of truce and cooperation, only to be greeted with violence. My feelings about Jay Carpenter are irrelevant; what matters is the lack of control and discipline your soldier displayed."

Matias's eyes flashed with anger, a stark contrast to the calm he attempted to project. "As for my abilities, I am proficient in various aspects of the Power, but I've never had much patience for Healing. It requires a calm and focus that..." He paused, his expression hardening, "that seems ironically lacking in your establishment. Yet if you are offering, I will accept.”

He shifted slightly, suppressing a wince. "However, if you are indeed offering knowledge and cooperation, I am willing to put this... unfortunate incident aside. For now. But make no mistake, Commander, my patience has limits. And my interest in Damien Oakland's achievements in Mexico doesn't extend to enduring assaults."

Matias’s gaze swept over the infirmary, his anger momentarily eclipsed by professional curiosity. The stark, clinical environment was bustling with activity; medical staff moved efficiently from patient to patient, their faces set in concentrated frowns. The smell of antiseptics mingled with the underlying scent of pain and presence of distant Power, creating a strangely comforting atmosphere of order amidst chaos. In one way, he felt very much at home though he could not say why.

Despite his pain and anger, Matias couldn’t help but be impressed by the efficiency and resources at play. "Impressive setup you have here," he conceded grudgingly, his voice still edged with resentment.

[Jay Carpenter]

He anticipated the retaliation. Michael warned him not to act, and that was exactly what he did. Given that he’d endured more than his fair share of head injuries, another one knocked him clean unconscious.

The Garden didn’t exactly have a jail. Instead, he woke up to find himself sitting in a near empty room. The walls were smooth and featureless, painted a dove-gray, and composed of a composite material that shimmered under the LED lighting when seen at the correct angle.

“Suppose I had that coming,” he mumbled as climbed his way into a chair. The only other piece of furniture was an old metal desk, but onto its surface he folded his arms and laid his forehead down.

His head was throbbing. Michael was powerful enough, bitch could have just slapped a shield on him but no, he had to slap the shit out of him and toss his ass in this depressing hole.

At least he was away from Matias-fucking-Amengual.

Without lifting his forehead from the desk, he slipped his Wallet out of a pocket and sent Natalie a message.

“I might be in trouble. Probably not too much, but we’ll see. Punched a diplomat in the face. Not my fault it was Matias Amengual.”

He hit send before he realized that she may not know who Matias was, but she’d certainly recognize the last name.

[Michael Vellas]

Michael simply weathered Matias's jibes while he directed a team towards the man. After he had finished his tirade Michael waved for the others to leave. "I will take it from here. See to it that Carpenter learns his lesson," he nodded to Karim and the others as they left to go about their business. When they were gone, he addressed the visitor.

"You may make your assumptions about me and Carpenter, Matias, but do not insult the rest of these men. Like most of the people who have the seed of the Power, many have been through tragedy. We are all survivors, Matias. From our own Powers, or the Atharim. That is my first piece of knowledge to you, if you do not already know of them. An organization that is dedicated to our destruction. I will have all classified information that I have access to on them given to you."

He sat down on a seat across from a bed that the doctors led Matias to and leaned back. "I shall instruct you myself. I doubt you came here to sit in classes and learn to spin webs of the Power safely. Have you encountered any...aberrations? Creatures that men would call monsters? Besides others like us, they can be the most dangerous things to our kind. The Ijiraq, a monster of mist that has some resistance against our power is the most dangerous, even the Ascendancy had trouble dealing with one."

"Is there anything in particular you hoped to learn? I shall answer what I can."