AU: Chicago 1926

[aeons_crackshot]

Eventually, the jungle was left behind and the FreakAngels and the members of the Æon Society made their way to Æon's headquarters in Chicago.

The headquarters looks, to the casual observer, much like the home of someone who is very well to do. It is, of course. Maxwell Anderson Mercer is a very wealthy man, philanthropist or no, after all. It's only when you look deeper and realize how solidly built the place is and that certain extra security measures are in place that it begins to reveal itself for what it is.

Namely, the home base of people who, not to put too fine a point on it, quite a lot of dangerous people want dead.

There is an island of calm in the hustle and bustle, the Archives. Every piece of research, every note, every adventure of the Society's members is in here...somewhere.

Comments

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle does not put a hand over her mouth to suppress laughter, it's all in your imagination. That's her story and she's sticking to it.

"I can imagine," she says at last. "He knew her growing up, then?"

[leadinghome]

"Yeah, they lived close. If you ever decide you need to make KK go crazy rage, call her Finny Koko, and run for your life."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I think I'll pass on that," Annabelle says with a grin. "I have enough close calls at is."

She's 17 and she's already nearly died twice, and that's not counting all the other incidents of grievous bodily harm.

[leadinghome]

He is 17, and was almost killed more than twice. Just he has less grievous bodily harm to speak of.

[aeons_crackshot]

Well, by "nearly" we mean "Had one foot in death's doorstep".

Still, they have something in common. Yay?

At that point, a bespectacled young man in a suit comes around the corner with a lost and confused expression.

He looks at Connor briefly, but most of his attention is taken up by Annabelle.

To an empath, or someone with a lot more people skills than Annabelle possesses, a lot of his internal indecision is plain to see.

He recognizes her from pictures in the paper, you see, and he's torn between "Damn, she's hot" and being horribly, horribly intimidated.

"Er...I don't s..s.suppose you know wh.. where the in..information on the Death Zeppelins is?" He finally stammers out.

Annabelle is entirely oblivious to the internal conflict. "Sure," she says with a smile. "Hang a left at the spear, go down two rows and take a right at the giant stone head."

The reporter stammers his thanks and wanders off in the appropriate direction before he can embarrass himself any further.

[leadinghome]

"You have fans." Connor could not have missed the conflicting emotions, those always flare high.

[aeons_crackshot]

Connor is the recipient of a confused expression. She hasn't added two and two and come up with four, so to speak.

[leadinghome]

"He finds you very attractive." So does Connor, but he is not mentioning it right now.

And attractive is the polite word for it.

[aeons_crackshot]

Lust, ensuring the continuation of the species since the dawn of time.

"Huh. Well, I suppose that's not too surprising." Annabelle knows she's pretty, she just doesn't feel the need to dwell on it at all.

"Poor fellow, I wonder if the stammer is why he's in journalism. You can't stammer with a typewriter..."

She hasn't made the connection between the attraction and the stuttering, as it's rather foreign to her own nature. Annabelle tends to confront things head on and metaphorical guns blazing, most of the time.

[leadinghome]

It seems Connor will have to spell it out. "Annabelle, he was stuttering because he was attracted..."

"Guess you never noticed the effect you have on guys?"

[aeons_crackshot]

Dawn breaks over Marblehead. "Oh," Annabelle says, surprised.

"No, I suppose I haven't," she admits. She's spent most of her life trying to prove that she's as tough or tougher than any man, thank you. This has not lent itself to exploits of a romantic nature.

[leadinghome]

"Well, the reporter guy surely was divided between how attractive you are and how scary you can be." Connor chuckles low. "Maybe he wanted an autograph too."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle will firmly deny blushing faintly at that. "I do have something of a reputation for being scary," she admits. "I've needed it, really, to get people to take me seriously."

The 1920s is not an era for gender equality, by any means.

[leadinghome]

"It worked, the guy was equal parts scared and..." Oops, pause to think of a better word than 'horny'.

Think Connor, think instead of blushing!

[aeons_crackshot]

"Randy?" Annabelle suggests with a wry smile. "That's got to be an awkward thing to pick up on."

[leadinghome]

"You have no idea. One of the first things I had to learn, was how to NOT listen in to people. How to block them out."

...

"Funny how it is easier around the others. More natural, to not only speak but also to talk mind to mind."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle nods. "I don't know how anyone would be able to function if they couldn't block other people out."

She ponders his second statement. "Their minds are probably quieter, more organized," Annabelle guesses. "If you can hear other people's thoughts, you might think more about your own?"

[leadinghome]

"Or maybe our mind work a bit different." Connor half-shrugs. "Being a telepathic is useful when you are in a hurry."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I expect it would be," Annabelle says with a smile.

"Have you seen much of the city yet?" she asks, curious.

[leadinghome]

"No. I would not know where to go... and getting lost in a strange city is no fun."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle grins. "Well, I could show you around?" she suggests. "I've never gotten to play tour guide before."

The fact that she thinks he's kind of cute has nothing whatsoever to do with this decision, really, we swear!

[leadinghome]

Connor would disagree with the cute part. "Would you? Nice... let me just change and tell the others." His relaxed attire for the Society is not what a young man his age would wear in 1926 Chicago.

[aeons_crackshot]

Sad, but true. "Sure," Annabelle says with a smile. "I'll meet you by the front door?" Hopefully, the others won't tease him too badly.

Annabelle's usual attire isn't precisely typical for a woman her age either, but, frankly, she does not care.

[leadinghome]

Connor will simply not go into details: just mention he is going for a walk, go change into something... well, not exactly perfect for the time, just... long sleeves? Yeah, right.

Ten minutes later, he is by the front door.

[aeons_crackshot]

The narration would like to declare that it has never been to Chicago and is relying solely on a rather sketchy Google search.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

The scene out the front door will look a lot like this.