Extending The Nuclear Family (Brotherhood/ Invite)

[Spectre]

Continued from here.. (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17795)


"We'll be there soon. You doing ok back there...?" Spectre called into the back seat of the stolen police cruiser.

Tron was wiping a smear of mustard off his lips. "Yeah, other than this access road is crap. God, my head hurts.."

They'd been driving for a few hours, stopping only to grab a quick bit of drive-thru food. Mute and Spectre had eaten theirs a while ago, but Tron had slept most of the way and was just now getting to his, which had long since gone cold. It didn't seem to be bothering him though as he ripped through wrappers and sucked down his Coke like it was the last one on Earth.

There had been a better road up to the main gate, but considering the fact that they were in a stolen cop car, Spectre had opted for a little discretion, taking a somewhat more concealed route up the moutain to Bruderschaft mansion. She had put in a call to Saladin and warned him of their approach, and the manner in which they were arriving, lest they be given a very sudden and loud welcome by one of the other members of the Brotherhood.

"Ahh.. here we go."

They rounded a final bend and the sublevels of the enormous manor came into view, if one knew what they were looking at. It appeared they were driving straight into a fern draped cave, nothing more than a hollow in the base of moutain, with the house proper towering far above. Stopping just inside, she shut off the car and blew out a sigh of relief.

They were home.

[Michael Lawston]

Michael came and went from Bruderschaft Manor like the ebb and flow of an out-of-control tide. The mountains offered a splendid view and a great measure of tranquility. But solace was never part of the mutant’s repertoire, living life with a constant adrenaline rush left him little patience for idleness.
<o></o>
It was slightly unfortunate that the crew in the stolen police cruiser arrived at the same time that Arsenal did. Unfortunately he didn’t have the luxury of Spectre’s advance warning. He’d spotted the vehicle driving up the switch backs and ditched his motorbike in order to follow the unwanted company with the hope that a dull setting might be broken by some slight amusement.
<o></o>
Though it was doubtful that the occupants of the car found it very amusing when all of sudden the driver side window shattered and Spectre found her peace broken by looking down the barrel of shotgun.
<o></o>
“WHOA, DUDE CHILL OUT!” Tron’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at the scruffy Michael with his finger tightening on the trigger. He did slightly regret shouting in panic, the headache from the pistol whip earlier shot through the roof on the painometer.
<o></o>
Arsenal gripped the edge of the roof with a free hand, his fingers visibly coated with what seemed to be a shimmering silver material. He glanced at the thoroughly freaked out Spectre behind the wheel; the shotgun vanished into thin air with a spark of light.
<o></o>
Michael graced the occupants with a vicious grin. “You know, a cruiser coming up the back entrance is probably not such a bright idea.”<o></o>

[Mute]

As they drove through the facade of greenery, Mute flinched and raised his hands to protect himself. Tron laughed at him. To his disbelief, a wide cavern opened up before them; there were vehicles lined up on a smooth concrete floor, iron girders supported its low roof and walls, and everything was bathed in the pale glare of artificial lighting. He gazed with wonder, lost in his surroundings, until the sound of shattered glass quickly brought him round. The barrel of a shotgun stared him in the face, and he jumped in his seat. He backed into the door, his hand frantically fumbling for the handle and with a click, it swung open. He tumbled backwards onto the concrete.

The situation quickly defused but his heart still raced. They seemed to know the stranger and his first thought was what kind of associates pull guns on each other? He scrambled to his feet and straightened his clothes, his eyes fixed on the man with irritation. He shook his head and slammed the door shoot as the others climbed out.

[Spectre]

With something that was damn close to a growl, Spectre slammed the car door open, right into Arsenal.

"Generally speaking, I don't think that if we were going to get raided by the cops that they would come up the very most shoddy of our access roads. Or that it would be one completely unimpressive squad car...."

Stepping from the vehicle, she brushed the remaining glass off herself and onto the concrete floor. She wasn't normally so cranky but she'd just been through a bit of an ordeal over the last few days, and her head was positively throbbing from exertion. What she needed was to go pass out somewhere, but not before reporting in to Saladin and introducing Mute to him. That was the most important thing right now.

"Arsenal... say hello to Mute." She turned to the boy with a reassuring smile.

They may bicker on occasion at the Brotherhood, but it wasn't to be taken seriously. Not in this case anyways...

[Saladin]

"Don't mind Arsenal."

A metal door at the far end of the garage had slid open, revealing an old-fashioned elevator with faded brass paneling and mahogany trim. Out of the elevator stepped a tall, athletic man with a thick mane of blond hair and an unmistakeable air of authority. He quickly crossed toward them, his long trenchcoat sweeping behind him.

"He only gets a bit over-enthusiastic from time to time."

The newcomer stopped in front of the car and glanced over the group, seemingly unconcerned by the glass littering the concrete floor.

"Spectre," he said, smiling. "I'm glad to see you've returned unharmed. You've created quite a stir. Good work."

He took another step toward Mute, regarding the boy with a look of fascination. "And I'm glad to see you've made it safely, as well. My name is Saladin. Welcome to Bruderschaft."

Saladin extended an open hand to the boy.

[Michael Lawston]

Arsenal winced as the car door slammed into his leg and a spark of anger flashed through his mind. The man was extremely ill-tempered when it came to being struck. It wasn’t so much that the blow hurt, or that he even cared that it hurt; it was more-so that the act of Michael bleeding often led to severely deadly feedback from the densely stored energy in his body.
<o></o>
But the emotion was only fleeting, anger with one’s associates was not entirely advisable…while they were useful or provided enjoyable company anyway. Of course if that disappeared they would become just another obstacle to be destroyed.
<o></o>
"He only gets a bit over-enthusiastic from time to time."
<o></o>
Arsenal’s eyes rested on Spectre as she glowered in his direction.
<o></o>
“I thought that it was needed with the lovely lady falling asleep behind the wheel.”
<o></o>
Michael trained his attention on the newcomer, ‘Mute’ was it? Quite a quiet fellow for just being thrust into the center of a group of powerful mutants; though the rather condescending look that Mute had given Arsenal upon exiting the vehicle hinted at something deeper.

[Mute]

After being introduced, he gave Arsenal a curt nod in greeting. The man had a smart mouth and was obviously amused by his stunt, Mute immediately got the impression that sharing the mansion with him would be difficult, and he had a feeling others felt the same way. He pulled his gaze away at the appearance of another stranger.

This man had a presence about him and all turned to face him as he approached. Mute rounded the car to join the others. His curious eyes inspected the man from head to foot. He was well-spoken and commanded respect. When he introduced himself, his thoughts were confirmed, and he shook his hand. Instead of fidgeting with his notepad and pen, he relied on Spectre to give Saladin his name, and in response to the hospitality, he simply smiled and nodded in gratitude.

[Spectre]

Turning toward the sound of Saladin's voice, Spectre cast a reserved smile his way. It was obvious that pleasing their leader was important to her. Had she felt better, she may have been a bit more animated about the whole thing.

At the random commentary from Arsenal, she appeared to ignore him, but into his mind she retorted..

'You wish..'

When Mute didn't start scratching out notes to Saladin, she suspected the cause and stepped in to continue this formal meeting of potential brethren.

Spectre tucked and arm around his shoulder, for only a moment, but it was a message loud and clear to any Brotherhood members lurking around, and to those present. She had a personal interest in this boy and he would remain under her protection..

"Saladin.. This is Mute."

Unspoken.. but still heard by the leader of the Brotherhood, she continued.

'We are going to have to find out why they want him back so badly. His skills are far beyond what a boy his age should have.. My guess is he has been.. altered somehow.'

[Saladin]

Saladin nodded at the silent message. Spectre had been unable to convey many details when she'd called ahead, but he'd read the wire reports of altercations with the police and a gas explosion that had claimed a house on the coast near Salem. He knew full well that Spectre was capable of such a spectacle on her own, but he had a strong feeling this boy had been involved as well.

Mute. So he had taken what the humans would consider a weakness and made it his identity. That took a great deal of courage and even a little impudence. And it brought a smile to Saladin's face.

"It seems you've impressed Spectre, Mute," he said. "That is no small feat. I am eager to get to know you better. But why don't we all move somewhere more comfortable first?"

He gestured toward the elevator, which was comfortably large enough for all of them. With a faint groan of turning wheels, the elevator car rose swiftly into the mansion proper.

[Mute]

His back pressed to the lift wall as it ascended. He was flanked by Arsenal and Spectre. Being in close proximity to her was a comfort but he was wary of the tall, dark-haired man; he looked gruff and Mute believed he had an odor of hot metal and tobacco. Then after recalling he hadn't showered in three days, he cast curious glances left and right then sniffed himself when no-one was watching. He winced and wondered how dirty he looked.

Saladin stood in silence with his hands clasped behind his back. As soon as the lift doors opened he strode out and the rest follwed. They spilled out into a wide, open hall; the floor was dark hardwood, a large portion of which was adorned with a lavish rug, the wallpaper was rich and old-fashioned, a bronze bust sat neatly on a stand between two large oil paintings of the mansion's previous owners, and a grand chandelier hung dominantly above the main entrance like an opulent centrepiece. Mute's wide eyes gazed around in wonder.

They were led into a room with a bay window so large all its occupants were afforded a panoramic view of a vast plunging gorge, rolling hills and sprawling woodland. His steps faltered and he mouthed the word "Wow". He glanced at Spectre and she gave him a knowing smile. Together, they crossed the room and came to a stop near an antique wooden globe. Saladin stood near an armchair and offered him a seat. He joined him as he sunk into the armchair and pulled out his writing materials, figuring they would be needed.

[Michael Lawston]

Michael smirked inwardly at the mental comment from Spectre. The woman might be decently attractive, but the way she just clung to Saladin sickened him, really. Anyone like that struck him as a manipulated fanatic……and she was the one with manipulative abilities.
<o></o>
Saladin spoke impassioned words and had the charisma to sway people to his way of thinking. He instilled a sense of belonging among mutants and a hatred for humanity and the injustices done by humans.
<o></o>
Arsenal glanced at the silent newcomer on the way up to the mansion of the elevator and wondered if he would be turned into one of Saladin’s pawns. Michael himself could care little for the cause of the Brotherhood. Saladin and his crew simply provided the best resources for Arsenal to continue his own personal vendettas; in return he provided his services to Saladin. It was a mutually beneficial and unspoken pact and while potentially unstable, seemed like it would not end anytime soon.
<o></o>
Arsenal chose not take a seat in any of the chairs. Instead he chose a spot near the oversized window and leaned against the glass. He flicked his wrist and a quartet of coasters landed on the polished mahogany coffee tab. Another spark of silver and a bottle appeared in his hand.
<o></o>
He gestured towards the other mutants while snapping the top off the most likely questionable beverage.
<o></o>
“Any particular drink requests?”

[Saladin]

"I don't suppose you've got any Kostriker Schwartzbier in there?" Saladin said wryly. "I'll take anything in a dark lager."

He took a black bottle from Arsenal and, with a very slight gesture, extended a green tendril from one finger and popped off the cap. He sat in a high-backed chair opposite Mute and regarded the boy with a mercurial expression, resting the beer slackly in his hand.

"I want you to know that you're among friends here, Mute," Saladin said. "Everyone here knows what it is to be a mutant among mundanes. They fear us, and they hate what they fear. That is why we band together. Evolution has made brothers and sisters of us all."

He lifted his bottle and glanced among his compatriots before returning to Mute.

"So, tell us... how did you first discover you were a mutant?"

[Mute]

Still satisfied from the fast food eaten on the journey to the mansion, Mute declined Arsenal's offer by raising his hand and shaking his head. He listened intently to Saladin; it was easy to see why these people followed him. His words filled Mute with a sense of justification.

His head dropped immediately when Saladin asked his question, he had braced himself for it and knew what to write. As he scribbled his response on a fresh page, he noticed the pain was not as strong anymore and something else was taking its place. He handed Saladin the notepad:

My family was murdered by mutant-haters. I broke free of my bounds and killed them.

[Spectre]

She claimed a glass of ice water for herself, but that was all. She popped another few pills and sat quietly, listening to Saladin speak. It was not hard to be swayed when he started talking, Spectre knew this all too well. It was not a ploy to ensnare a helpless boy, however. He spoke the truth and their cause was worth everything.. anything.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve the killer headache, glancing over at Mute as he wrote. She didn't need to read it, to know what it said, she had been there.

Spectre didn't show any further physical indications of her interest in the boy, it was better if she let him encounter the Brotherhood on his own, and deal with them in his own way, but she needed him to know that just because they had arrived she would not abandon him.

Her mind brushed his, softly, like an embrace..

You're doing fine. Tell him anything. It will not be held against you, not here...

[Saladin]

Saladin's expression scarcely changed as he read the note. Hie eyes flickered back toward Mute, and he held up the note for Arsenal to read before passing the notepad back to the boy.

"Then you know what sort of enemy we face," he replied plainly. "There are those in this world who hate us for merely existing. I am sorry that your family had to pay the price for the ignorance of others. But you responded with the gifts that nature gave you, and you paid them back justly for their crimes. You've done well, Mute."

Saladin took a mouthful of beer with exquisite relish.

"I'm sure you've gathered by now that this isn't a social club," he said. "The humans want to keep mutants isolated and unaware of their potential because they fear what we might do when we come together. And they are right to fear it.

"What we aim to do is to build a new world for all mutant-kind. Are you interested?"

[Mute]

What Mute hadn't realised until then was that he already shared Saladin's views, the words were etched onto his heart and he merely lacked the vocabulary to express them. Saladin was preaching to the converted. It excited him to be in a room full of people who feel the same way he does and he nodded immediately in response to Saladin's proposal.

He lowered his head and ran his pen over the page. He wanted to express his relief, he wanted to share his excitement, he wanted to tell Saladin and his brotherhood of mutants how grateful he was for being taken in. Instead, he simply wrote:

How can I help?

[Saladin]

Saladin smiled as he read the note and returned it to its owner. It didn't take a telepath to read Mute's eagerness. Sometimes the best medicine was getting right down to business - especially when that business involved paying back the ones who had hurt you in the first place.

"The first thing for you to do is to learn your trade. Every member of this Brotherhood is uniquely gifted. Spectre, for instance, is a marvelous infiltrator, informant, and interrogator. Tron manages most of our technical needs and can tie any computerized security network in knots. Arsenal is a man of considerable versatility - practically a one-man army. I'm sure it won't take long for you to find your own niche among us.

"Beyond that, we have a number of projects ongoing, around America and around the world. Recruitment efforts. Rescue missions. A few retaliatory strikes. And a few preemptive ones. We can use all the manpower we can get, both in support roles and in the field."

Saladin leaned foward, keeping Mute locked in his gaze. "And if you're interested in working in the field with us," he said, gesturing toward this inner circle, "we have facilities here at Bruderschaft where you can hone your abilities, push them to their maximum potential. I think Spectre would be willing to help oversee your training. The two of you seem to work very well together."

[Ghost]

Delete me, please.

[Mute]

He pulled himself free of Saladin's gaze to look at Spectre. She looked tired but managed a weak smile. He recalled what had happened on the beach and what he'd witnessed her do - the thought of training with her in the future gave him a renewed buzz of energy. He returned his attention to Saladin.

I'd like that.

He wrote, and looked up, giving him a curious frown, then added:

Spectre, I get. I understand Tron and Arsenal makes sense. But why are you called Saladin?

[Spectre]

She nodded, no longer talking herself.. It would be a pleasure to continue working with Mute.

She'd already seen what he was capable of. In the span of no more than a few seconds he'd taken out several armed police officers. She'd been running to his side, but it was they who had needed saving.. from the very thing they'd been sent to collect, this boy, like he was some kind of wild animal.

Training wasn't what he needed, he was more than capable, he was brilliant. Experience and learning his controls and triggers, now that she would just love to watch..

She yawned, but kept her eyes open for now..

[Saladin]

Saladin took a measured sip from his lager and turned his head to look out the gigantic bay window for a few moments. It seemed he was reaching through the glass and far into his own past.

"We all come upon our names in a variety of ways," he said. "They may be our own creations, a reflection of our gifts. They may be the taunts of our enemies which we make our own and turn back against them."

He returned his gaze to Mute.

"I was first called Saladin by someone who meant a great deal to me," he said. "Someone who saw me as a champion, a defender against the anti-mutant crusaders. For her sake, and for the sake of all others like her, I swore I would resist our oppressors with everything I had, everything I am. Our cause is my identity."

His face grew grim. "Make no mistake, Mute. We are fighting a war. A war for the right to evolve. The humans are fighting the very nature that bore them. And so nature itself is on our side."

[Spectre]

He hadn't yet thought the words, but Spectre was under the distinct impression that a 'Yeah yeah..' was imminent from Mute's mind. She hid a grin and rose from her seat.

The three of them, Mute, Tron and herself had been through enough. More introductions and a tour could be had later. For now though, they needed to crash. She wasn't even sure where Tron had gone off too, she could only hope he'd made it to his bed and not collapsed in the hall somewhere...

"Well, as far as the war goes, I think we can say we won a great battle by getting you away from them, Mute." She ruffled his hair, but shot Saladin a look. They needed to find out who this boy really was...

"What say we go find you a room, huh?", she invited..

[Mute]

A lesson Mute quickly learned was that it didn't take much to give Saladin incentive to give a lengthy spiel; the mutant leader was eloquent, intelligent, and dedicated to his cause but a lot of what he said left the boy feeling dumbfounded. He was smart enough and appreciated being spoken to like an adult, but unfortunately, he didn't have the grace with words to reply like one. Spectre's intervention was welcome and he gave her a nod.

Thank you, Mr. Saladin. I will do my best.

He showed him his message and stood, his eyes were once again drawn to the expansive view beyond the window. For a fleeting moment, he realised how fortunate he was that things had turned out this way.

[Saladin]

"I know you will, Mute. I'm glad you've joined us."

Saladin knew that Spectre's mind was still open, and he thought, Find out whatever you can about him. Find out why they wanted him.

And to the boy, he tipped his bottle in salute.

[Spectre]

Spectre nodded in seeming farewell to the Boss, as she escorted Mute back toward the main hall. A silent message was sent, for Saladin alone, as she passed by..

I will.

She waited until they had put a bit of distance between them and the others before attempting to speak to the boy, Mute again. She could understand if the whole situation was a bit daunting to someone so young, but he did not seem ill at ease in any way. If anything he seemed as eager as she had upon joining The Brotherhood.

He followed her to an old stair, badly in need a coat of varnish, that spiraled upward to the floors above them.

"So how are you doing..?", she asked, already knowing the answer.

[Mute]

He gave Spectre the thumbs up as they walked. He fell behind her when they reached the staircase and took in his surroundings during the ascent; doors for the main entrance, the rooms adjoining the main hall, and for the cellar; there were ornaments, paintings, dusty tables and cabinets, a tall narrow window of frosted glass, and the second floor greeted him with more of the same. He might've took a moment to enjoy the lavish furnishings and architecture but instead, his mind was working out escape routes, entrance points, tactical advantages and handicaps, room for storage and hiding, and potential weapons. His concluding thought was Home Alone would've been a much better film if it had been set here.

They stopped halfway down a narrow corridor. They were stood outside a room, he looked inquisitively at Spectre and pointed at the closed door.

[Spectre]

One corner of her mouth tilted upward in a smile.. Spectre nodded in affirmation, the room was unoccupied and his to claim, if he so desired.

"Go ahead.. I'm at the end of the hall, on the left. Next one down from me is claimed by someone who isn't here right now, but he'll be back.." For one second she looked like she'd gone distant..

She shook it off and gestured to the door. "Change whatever you don't like.. It's yours now."

[Mute]

He nodded. Her sudden lapse of nostalgia hadn't gone unnoticed by him, he simply chose not to acknowledge it because it didn't matter - she had him now. The brass door knob felt stiff when it twisted, the heavy door opened with a creak and the room that lay before him had clearly not been used in a long time. It was twice as big as his last room and was dominated by a King-sized bed covered in a dusty plastic sheet. Every surface was covered in plastic - including the carpet and their footsteps made a crunching sound - pale light shimmered on every surface, it poured in from a large bay window also caked in dust. He wrote in his notepad.

There looks like a nice room under all this plastic and dust.

[Michael Lawston]

Michael watched impassively as Spectre and Mute vanished up the stairs and drained the rest of the beer. Damn stuff was warm anyway, no way he could enjoy the stuff, change from matter to energy and back again really did help in keeping anything cool.

“More meat for your proverbial grinder?” Arsenal set the empty bottle down and glanced over towards Saladin from his position at the window.

“Should I run him through combat training? I don’t trust a green fighter by my side….no matter what Spectre says about him.”

[Spectre]

"Yeah..." She sighed.

"Sorry about that, I'm only domestic when I have to be." Spectre walked over to the windows and looked out at the forested landscape. It was a nice view.. Better than the suburbs she'd found him in, anyways..

"Just throw the plastic in a corner. Later I'll come help you and we'll rid the room of dust and give it a good airing out."

It did need some personal touches in her opinion, but she really didn;t know Mute well enough yet to pick anything out for him or make any suggestions. Did he like to read? Would he want bookshelves? A writing desk? She had no idea and wasn't inclined to poke around in his mind..

"We'll go shopping. Get you some clothes and whatever else you need.. Just think on it ok?"

[Mute]

His nod was curt but his smile was warm; Mute wasn't given to exaggerated movements since somehow it didn't seem right to be silent and animated. The stillness in the room was punctured by the sound of a scratching pen. It stopped suddenly then he furiously scribbled at the page. Deflated, he handed her the notepad and shrugged. It read:

I don't need help with the room. You rest, you've helped me enough. Thank you for everything. You've given me

When she looked up, he shook his pen for her to see, and grinned. It was empty.

[Spectre]

"Uhoh.. that could be problematic. Come with me down the hall.. I'm sure I have another.." Spectre smiled.

It must be a pain to not be able to communicate without signing, or writing. With her he had another option, but it wasn;t somethign she was going to force him into. When he was comfortable doing so, he knew he could talk to her, without any physical voice and she would hear him.

Spectre stepped out into the hall and started for her room. When she arrived she shoved open the door and sighed, feeling happy to be home. Her room was not unlike her. A stark contrast of dark and light. A deep fluffy rug, white as snow.. the walls and ceiling were painted black and the covers on her bed were deep red.

"Come on in.."

She sat on the side of the bed and opened the drawer of a side table, rummaging around for a pen. When she found one she held it up. "Here you go.."

[Mute]

It was with a hint of reluctance that he took the pen. Suddenly the idea of completing the sentence left unfinished felt daunting. After a moment, he took his eyes off Spectre and looked down at the page. There was his incomplete sentence, glaring at him, devoid of syntax. It was much easier in the flow of conversation to stop a sentence midway and rephrase your thoughts. Mute didn't have that luxury when the evidence was there on the page. It was one word. His pen pressed against the paper, he paused, then lowered his hands. He looked up once more and told his friend what she deserved to know:

hope.

[Spectre]

Spectre had been doing an admirable job of staying out of his head, so far, out of decency and respect. They had been through so much together in such a short amount of time. One of the first things he'd said to her when she'd found him broken and bleeding was that she should have left him.. He'd already come a long way.

Without any words of her own, she tucked one arm around his shoulders. Hope wasn't something people usually associated with her. Fear, paranoia maybe, but never hope.

'Thank you..' she said silently..

"Let's get some rest, huh? We'll have plenty of time to...", she grinned..

"..talk later."

[Mute]

He was in agreement and before pocketing the pen she'd given him, he raised it pointedly in thanks. She looked paler than usual and although her eyes were heavy they never lost their green fire. He smiled thinly and felt her arm slip away as they parted. As the door to her room closed with him on the other side, he gave her one last glance then left her in peace.