Post by Layton Ranta on May 4, 2014 21:24:35 GMT -5
And our freedom's consuming itself!
And what we've become is contrary to what we want.
______________________________Muse - "Take A Bow"
Just what the hell was the point of this apartment, anyway?
It had been something Layton had been meaning to ask Khalidah ever since she'd plucked him out of his old place and transplanted him halfway across the country. Rather than a change in career or a sudden significant windfall, this new chapter in his life had come about because of something as innocuous as a conversation in a chatroom. Having been adopted from Ark Industries by Intellitouch - who he know knew was the company Khalidah helmed; he'd done his research - the chatroom had been a not-really-covert online meeting place for people with abilities to congregate and share their worldly wisdom. But, before, during and after visiting the chatroom for the first time, Layton wasn't entirely certain that he was meant to be there.
Sure, he'd been sent the customary - and quite possibly automated - email which had revealed the URL to him; just as he surmised all of the other specials had but, when the ability he felt he had stood quite a good chance of being a simple coincidence born from his imagination, he'd been left just as confused as when he'd started. Nevertheless, Khalidah Rahal - this enigmatic matriarch of the domain - had revealed her piqued interest when the discussion turned to the apparent abilities of the new guy. The user name he'd chosen for himself hadn't really been that serious; more personal humour than anything else. Having watched a documentary on marine biology shortly before jumping onto the computer, the species he'd seen had influenced him and, once he realised that one of the animals was a spoonerism away from resembling his surname, he'd done precisely that and typed it in.
And so, RantaMay was born.
Although he was definitely the novice of the bunch, he had understood their position when it came to listening to his account of what he could apparently do. In a world where simply having an ability was rare enough in itself and witnessing people who were capable of blocking their use were even more so, it was only natural for people to peg the odds of a man who claimed to be able to both block existing abilities and induce temporary copies of those abilities in mundane individuals somewhere in the ballpark of surviving a lightning strike while winning the lottery. Suffice to say, they were remote. But he had still been brought to Los Angeles by a private jet and given a new place to live.
Khalidah had done this without so much as a by your leave and, rather than tell him precisely what she wanted, she'd simply left him to his existence. She didn't even bother to tell him if the apartment's upkeep was his responsibility, which had led to the most nail-biting four weeks of his life. Without a job, he had feared the inevitable expenses associated with a place of this size but, when the only thing through his door at the end of the month had been a menu for a local Chinese restaurant, those fears had somewhat subsided. Which meant that someone else was paying the bills. Which meant that someone wanted something from him.
And the only person who knew the answer to the question had been the one who had brought him here.
Another drawback to the apartment he'd been given was how much of a target for thieves he'd become. His apparent status had skyrocketed and, as such, it wasn't long before someone had seen fit to try their luck. The night before, while Layton had been watching television, the sound of breaking glass had piqued his interest, though it wasn't until he heard footfalls in another room that he actually got up to investigate. Living alone, unannounced footsteps were an alarm bell in and of themselves and, sure enough, he'd managed to walk in on the would-be criminal while he'd been ransacking the kitchen. The room wasn't usually a place for valuables to be found but, in a house so large, he'd presumably thought it prudent to try regardless.
In hindsight, Layton would have probably thought twice about engaging the thief, especially when - to his surprise - the man turned out to be a special; something which became abundantly clear as a stream of searing purple light hurled him against the nearest wall. Believing him to be unconscious or worse, the thief took the opportunity to rush into another room to continue his search. Unfortunately for him, however, the half-Nordic inhabitant of the apartment he'd chosen to rob was made of sterner stuff than he'd imagined and, after grabbing a baseball bat from the hall, Layton followed the noise once more. This time, he was prepared. Now that he knew his adversary was a special, he could finally set an experiment into motion.
"Hey, that actually hurt, you know?", he casually remarked in his accented voice, planting his hand on the pommel of the bat like a cane. The thief, obviously startled by the interruption, thrust out his right hand, hoping to knock Layton back down. But, to his horror, nothing. No stream of neon light, no harm brought to bear upon this unknown man. He was somehow powerless; minus his advantage. "Yeah, I turned off your cute little lightshow. Now get the fuck out." The sudden "loss" of his ability had rattled him enough and, when Layton swung for the back of his shins, he quickly took the hint, fleeing the scene about as abruptly as he'd entered it.
It seemed he could manipulate abilities, after all. But, as his sporadic experimentation had already shown him, he could do a lot more than just block them. The only problem was figuring out how. Khalidah would probably have helped. If she hadn't run back to her ivory tower as soon as she'd handed over the keys to the apartment and had her lackies move his stuff in. But what could he really expect? He barely believed his own ability, so why would anyone else?