aeons_crackshot | AU: Chicago 1926

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

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?"

From:

leadinghome

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

From:

aeons_crackshot

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

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

From:

leadinghome

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

From:

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!

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

leadinghome

Connor has never been to Chicago, in any time, so... he will trust Annabelle to guide him, following the young woman outside.

Yeah, the city is a city, not too strange, but the people all dress weird.

Of course, if asked, they would say it's Connor and Annabelle dressing weird, right?

From:

aeons_crackshot

Oh, surely.

"I suspect you'd like the library," Annabelle says with a smile. "It's a beautiful building on the inside."

Eventually, they'll make their way here.

From:

leadinghome

"There people will stare less?" Part of him still is on guard, expecting the hunting to start again.

Connor will be mostly quiet on the way to the building.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle blinks, surprised. "No, I just thought that you'd find it interesting."

Damn it, less than 5 minutes in and she's already messing this up.

From:

leadinghome

"Sorry. Just... crowds staring make me restless." And people do stare at the long-haired young man in the too-big clothes.

"People staring usually happened before someone started screaming bloody murder."

From:

aeons_crackshot

If it's any consolation, people are staring at Annabelle too.

"I should have thought of that," Annabelle says with a frown. "We can head somewhere with fewer people?"

From:

leadinghome

"No, It's okay. I have to learn to relax..." Somehow.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Without consciously thinking about it, she moves to hold his hand in an attempt at comfort.

"Or tame the fear rather than let it devour you," Annabelle says with a wry smile. "I've had to do that, myself." There is a reason she's armed all the time, you see.

From:

leadinghome

Well, he is literally armed all the time.

The hand-holding is a surprise, but not a bad one: Connor squeezes her hand lightly, smiling. "Thanks."

He will not let go unless Annabelle takes it back.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle did not gain anything quite that built in, alas. She's capable of improvising, but killing the bad guy with a fork gets even more horrified looks than telekinesis.

She squeezes his hand in return. "You're welcome."

She's not planning on letting go.

Eventually, they'll wind up here

Annabelle's guns get a few glances, but she's putting on her best "I'm harmless, really," act. No one seems inclined to bother them, anyway.

From:

leadinghome

That makes Connor stare a bit, surprised. "Oh, wow." Other people are forgotten, he is in an awesome place, holding the hand of a pretty girl.

Not something that happens often to him.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle just grins. This isn't the sort of thing that happens to her very often either.

Because the universe does, sometimes, follow the laws of film, the sun breaks through the cloud cover and comes down through the stained glass dome.

From:

leadinghome

"It is beautiful here." Connor speaks low, awed. "And quiet." Mostly, at the time of the day.

"It must be really noisy when it is crowded."

From:

aeons_crackshot

"It can get a bit loud," Annabelle admits. "But this is a good time of day to come, if you want quiet."

"I'm glad you like it," she adds with a faint blush.