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 as no idea what an internet is, but it doesn't really matter.

She squeezes his hand in return. "I, I mean we, we'll help you however we can," she says, blushing faintly.

[leadinghome]

Connor looks into her eyes, and barely realizes he 'speaks' to her not in words. Would you? He is lost, and unsure.

[aeons_crackshot]

Blue eyes meet violet without flinching or turning away. Yes. She may be answering more than one question here, whether she knows it or not.

Annabelle knows what it is to feel lost and unsure. One night 5 years ago with a bullet tearing into her arm taught her that.

A determination to not ever feel that way again blossomed into the desire to help and protect those in need of it. Iron will and fire carrying her through fear, pain, loss, and near death.

[leadinghome]

Funny how things happen: you can not hide much from an empathic. Connor's hand leaves Annabelle's and makes its way to cup her cheek, gently.

[aeons_crackshot]

She startles a little when his hand leaves hers, worried that she's upset him somehow. The touch on her cheek reassures her a bit.

Her own hand moves up oh so cautiously to mirror his, as if he were a wild creature of uncertain temperament. The touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if she's afraid she'll hurt him.

This is relatively foreign territory for her, and territory that has always ended in pain before.

[leadinghome]

This Connor is less of a shut-in in some things.

Also, younger and naturally bolder?

He sits up and draws the blonde girl into a kiss.

[aeons_crackshot]

This Annabelle hasn't had her heart broken and trampled on quite so many times either.

She's a bit inexperienced, but the kiss is returned. The smell of grass, the faint sounds of birds and water all get tangled up with the feel of this kiss.

[leadinghome]

It is their first kiss.

It will last a while, perhaps? Connor is in no hurry to go anywhere else.

[aeons_crackshot]

It will last quite a while, until Annabelle, at least, has to draw a shaky breath.

She's not in a hurry to go anywhere else either.

[leadinghome]

He is blushing, but smiling. "That was... very nice."

[aeons_crackshot]

He's not the only one who's blushing and smiling. "Yes, it was," Annabelle replies. It seems like a rather inadequate response, but it's the best she's got at the moment.

[leadinghome]

Well, that world is not so bad?

At least right now he knows: he's not alone.

Connor takes Annabelle's hand, smiling more relaxed now. "I was afraid you would slap me..."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Really?" Annabelle says with a surprised chuckle.

Not alone ever again, if Annabelle can prevent it.

[leadinghome]

"Yes... or shoot me?" And before she answers, kiss again.

Testing his luck, you see?

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle would never shoot anyone for kissing her, that would be overreacting.

His luck is very good, as it happens. For an empath, it should be quite clear that Annabelle is enjoying this kiss a great deal.

[leadinghome]

Oh, good, because he is enjoying himself very much too.

Nothing more natural than ending in each other's arms, right? A pair of teenagers, discovering romance and attraction, discovering a multitude of feelings.

[aeons_crackshot]

Nothing more natural at all.

Admittedly, most teenagers aren't carrying two guns and throwing knives on their person, or capable of making people's heads explode from the power of their mind alone.

[leadinghome]

Details.

Mere details of little importance, at least right now, don't you think? Just a boy a girl, a quiet morning at the park, and kissing.

Then of course, there should be cuddling, right? "Very nice indeed."

[aeons_crackshot]

Mere unimportant details. Except where they concern a certain caution when cuddling so that Connor doesn't end up with guns pressing somewhere painful and unpleasant.

"Very nice," Annabelle agrees.

Alas, at that point they are interrupted by the sound of giggling children. A gaggle of young boys, from the sound of it. They're singing a piece of an old playground taunt. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

They're a bit stymied by not knowing both their names, you see.

[leadinghome]

And Connor is blushing.

Really, he never imagined himself at the receiving end of that chant. "Oh, bugger."

[aeons_crackshot]

He's not the only one blushing. Annabelle's response is more profane, but not in English.

She's actually glaring at the boys, and looks as if she's trying to place the faces. "Tommy Sullivan," she says at last, looking at the boy in the front.

Tommy makes a noise best described as eep.

[leadinghome]

"Oh, you know them?" Connor raises a brow, eying the boys too.

[aeons_crackshot]

"Just the miscreant at the front," Annabelle says dryly. "Although, I'm sure I can get my hands on the names of the rest of them."

The other boys were looking relieved. Now? Not so much.

Annabelle addresses Tommy. "Shouldn't you hooligans be in school at this hour?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Tommy shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. "Mayyybe," he says at last.

[leadinghome]

"Hm, maybe someone needs to learn about these rascals skipping school?" Oh, Connor picks up the clues fast.

[aeons_crackshot]

That's good, as it makes things much easier.

Tommy looks a bit like he's heard he's going to be hung in the morning. Mrs. Sullivan is a formidable woman and firm disciplinarian.

"Unless...." Annabelle says, pretending to ponder her offer.

Tommy can't take the pressure, "Pleasedon'ttellmymum" comes out in a rush as nearly a single word.