aeons_crackshot (
aeons_crackshot) wrote2011-03-20 11:01 am
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AU: Trinity Universe/FreakAngels crossover: First date
OOC: Takes place not too terribly long after this thread.
After certain events at the Chicago harbor there had been considerable amusement within the Æon Society over the pairing up of Annabelle Newfield and Connor. (Whitley Styles had won the betting pool, despite Jake's claim that he cheated.)
As for the reactions of the other FreakAngels to the news, well, who knows?
There was a furious spate of trouble starting the very next day, of course. All of the Society's founders have been run ragged for the last few weeks. For the moment though, things are quiet. (Or at least, if things ARE going crazy somewhere, someone else is handling the problem.)
Annabelle and Jake got back in town at some ungodly hour this morning, whereupon she fell asleep on one of the couches near the fireplace. (Jake is probably off somewhere regaling a pretty woman or two with tales of said adventure, because that's what he does.)
After certain events at the Chicago harbor there had been considerable amusement within the Æon Society over the pairing up of Annabelle Newfield and Connor. (Whitley Styles had won the betting pool, despite Jake's claim that he cheated.)
As for the reactions of the other FreakAngels to the news, well, who knows?
There was a furious spate of trouble starting the very next day, of course. All of the Society's founders have been run ragged for the last few weeks. For the moment though, things are quiet. (Or at least, if things ARE going crazy somewhere, someone else is handling the problem.)
Annabelle and Jake got back in town at some ungodly hour this morning, whereupon she fell asleep on one of the couches near the fireplace. (Jake is probably off somewhere regaling a pretty woman or two with tales of said adventure, because that's what he does.)
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"I've never really felt...safe before, I suppose," she goes on, trying to explain. "Not since I was 12 and got shot for the first time, anyway."
"But I feel safe with you, better than I've ever felt, I...." Annabelle is not good with words.
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Words can be deceiving.
This, can not.
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(Possibly this is related to her preference for punching trouble in the face, who knows?)
She won't break the kiss until she starts getting dizzy from lack of oxygen.
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"Still, I suppose a bribe wouldn't go amiss," she adds with a wink. "You mentioned ice cream earlier, I think?"
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Ice cream might be an extra good idea since both skipped lunch...
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Illegal does not equal unavailable, as Connor surely knows.
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The blush should be hint enough of the idea filling his mind.
Bad Connor, bad!
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Then she sees the blush on his face, and blushes in turn as the possible interpretations sink in.
He may not be the only one with that mental image suddenly popping up. Stupid teenage hormones....
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Because you see, he is torn: knowing it's a Bad Thought, but since she's not slapping him or anything, it's not a Really Bad Thought?
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"I suspect it might be a good idea for us to not share whatever we were thinking, or we may never get out of here."
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Annabelle tries to ease the awkwardness as much as she can. If nothing else, navigating through the streets of Chicago on foot is likely to provide a bit of a distraction.
The ice cream parlor does seem oddly busy, especially considering that the number of people going in the door doesn't quite match up to the number of customers...
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Connor just hopes there will be no gangster drive-by's.
Walking along with Annabelle, holding her hand (warm hand, strong, oddly comforting) is indeed a distraction: the Freakangel has been practicing keeping barriers up, feeling people but not what they're feeling.
He knows they are there, but he keeps the waves of mental energy at bay.
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There will be no gangster drive-by today. The Æon Society has made something of an...impression on the local mobsters. Annabelle in particular has but the fear of, well, HER, into the lieutenants of the major Families.
The shop is clean, if crowded, and the jerk (a soda-jerk, not the other kind) manning the long counter looks up at them when they enter. The tables and booths are mostly occupied by couples, if the human courting behavior on display is any indication.
"Any particular favorites?" Annabelle asks, still holding his hand.
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The jerk nods and starts working on their order.
Well, will you look at that? There's a table available! A daredevil's unnatural luck doesn't just apply to combat situations, after all.
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Wow, these are good malts. Possibly this is a partial explanation for the crowd, along with the alcohol downstairs.
They'll linger over the shakes, making small talk and enjoying the company of one another.
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Of course, we all know said peace can not last.
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The butterfly effect's a funny thing, sometimes. In the universe that was, a young man named Thomas lost his younger sister and his father to scarlet fever. That's why he had to stay in Tennessee, instead of finding a job at a newspaper in Chicago, like he had dreamed. In that universe, Thomas gained his Inspiration only moments before his death.
In THIS universe, the sudden arrival of the Angels delayed the Founder's return to Chicago, causing a reshuffling of members. One of theirs with healing talents was, therefore, in the area when the epidemic started. Casie and his father lived, so Thomas was able to pursue his dream.
But it seems that some people are not destined for quiet, ordinary lives. His parents were getting him "settled in", and he was taking his sister to get some ice cream to give them a break from her barrage of questions. She'd darted ahead of him and the other pedestrians trying to cross the street, but one car hadn't stopped...
There had been no time to think, no time to move, but something...snapped, somewhere deep inside. The side of the car crumples, pushed squealing backwards and away from the little girl....
It's a little like a star being born, to more uncommon senses. A roar and a bright burst of light where there was nothing remarkable before...
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Connor stands up in a flash, eyes lighting up as his senses expand and time slows to a crawl for him.
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Confusion and distress Whoever it is that's putting out that energy has has NO IDEA what the hell is going on.
Annabelle would ask what he's sensing, but time is still moving at its normal speed for her.
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Static Line.
He moves away from the table, walking around the people, heading to the street. Looking for the source of the distress.
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The cause of the disturbance is a young man about Connor's age in the middle of the street. He's holding an eight year old girl protectively, his right hand only just coming down from where it was pointed at the car. Their looks suggest that they're related, probably siblings.
Taken all together, the scene suggests a nearly tragic accident caused by a driver not stopping when he should have. The question, of course, is what averted this tragedy and whether it has anything to do with the mysteriously damaged car...
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