aeons_crackshot | 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.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

aeons_crackshot

About 10 minutes later, Annabelle finally shakes off the escalating blushing by kissing him briefly and laughing. "We are a pair, aren't we?" she says with a shake of her head.

"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."

From:

leadinghome

Connor suspects that if he did share, she would slap him. "Hm, yeah. let's... let's go, then?" He's still a bit... well, awkward.

From:

aeons_crackshot

She probably wouldn't slap him. Gaping a bit, maybe, and spluttering quite a lot would be a more likely response.

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...

From:

leadinghome

Ah, prohibition times. How quaint.

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.

From:

aeons_crackshot

It is rather quaint, isn't it? We also suspect that some of the other Angels might find it funny that pretty much every other recreational drug known to man at this time is perfectly legal.

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.

From:

leadinghome

"Hmm... I think I'll have a vanilla malt." Something simple, to start. "And you?"

From:

aeons_crackshot

"Hm," Annabelle replies, pondering. "A chocolate malt, I think."

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.

From:

leadinghome

Well, so they can get their shakes, Connor pays for them, and said empty table can be seized. Hm, shakes and the company of a pretty girl: Connor's day is getting better and better.

From:

aeons_crackshot

It's good that his day is getting better and better, because Annabelle's is too.

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.

From:

leadinghome

Holding hands, drinking milkshakes, making small talk. Very peaceful.

Of course, we all know said peace can not last.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Of course not. Heaven forbid they have a normal day!

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...

From:

leadinghome

And of course, the energy burst is like thunder and lightning for a Freakangel: it's not the Package, but it is something that sends waves across the area.

Connor stands up in a flash, eyes lighting up as his senses expand and time slows to a crawl for him.

From:

aeons_crackshot

The source of those waves isn't putting out as much energy now, having spent the brunt of it all in one go. The energy output is sporadic now, nearly random.

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.

From:

leadinghome

Fortunately, Connor has a pretty good idea of what to do in a case like this.

Static Line.

He moves away from the table, walking around the people, heading to the street. Looking for the source of the distress.

From:

aeons_crackshot

It's more than a little eerie, seeing the world frozen like this. About a block away, a roadster sits half on, half off the sidewalk, it's front passenger side bashed in as if by the fist of a giant.

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...

From:

leadinghome

Taken all together, it looks simple to him: the young man was protecting his sister... or maybe the girl was protecting both.

Hard to know for sure.

For now, he heads back inside to get Annabelle, add her to the Line.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle is still sitting there, as frozen as the rest of them, to his perspective.

She's likely to be more than a bit surprised once she gets added to the Static Line.

From:

leadinghome

"Something happened outside. Come on." He offers a hand, but there's a tone of urgency on his voice.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle has a moment of WTF, as time unfreezes for her. He was over there and now he's over here, what?

She recovers almost instantly though, grabbing his hand. "What kind of trouble is it?" she asks, jumping to her feet.

From:

leadinghome

Connor guides her outside, to the scene of the accident. "I think someone's powers manifested just in time." That much is clear.

"I don't know which of the two did."

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle mutters something extremely impolite in Cantonese. "This could get complicated," she says with a sigh. "It's hard enough trying to deal with an independent adult that's just got saddled with this mess...."

"Can you send a message to Whitley Styles? He's one of the people who gets drafted for orientation duty most often. I'd rather not have to hold the fort longer than necessary." She was on a DATE, damn it!

From:

leadinghome

"I can. But I'll have to take us out of the Static Line." Which means all hell starts to break loose.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle sighs. "It figures. Still, I'd rather someone other than me was on hand to try and do the explaining."

The kid could end up permanently psychologically scarred or something! She has no doubts whatsoever about her ability to damage a social situation beyond possibility of repair.

From:

leadinghome

"We'll have to do some damage control until he arrives." Connor sighs. "Any ideas?"

From:

aeons_crackshot

"If we can get them to calm down, we should keep the damage to a minimum," she says, thinking. "Stress and high emotions seem to cause a loss of control, especially in the first few months."

She grins wryly. "Thankfully, they've generally spent almost everything they have to burn in the initial crisis, so they don't do TOO much damage when they lose it."