KnightDisciple

Magnus was nodding, color seeping into his cheeks, the fires of hope slowly growing in his eyes. He even began to smile. "Excellent! I believe you, I truly do. As for money, it's no object; the Katastrof family has deep coffers, not to mention my own personal funds brought on from investments and the like. She's at one of the hospitals we founded and built about a decade ago; it's perhaps the finest center of medicine in Scandinavia, if not all of Northern Europe. And of course, I'll arrange the transport of yourself, any materials and equipment you might need, and of course any assistants. While bringing her here might be more efficient in theory, I fear the stress of travel would do Eira no good." He pulled out his phone and brought up some contact information. "Now, about that video conference..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "You want to do WHAT?" "No, listen to me, Bernhard, this is the only-" "The only way? It can't be! The doctors haven't mentioned complications like this!" "Only because there was no point in doing so before! But now, it's important! Ask them if you really need to, but you know I have the same data they do. This...this is the only way! The only way that will-" "No! You're crazy! Crazier than your damn fool of a father! I won't let you-" "SHUT UP! I'm trying to save Eira you damn fool!" "Bernhard! Magnus! You're lucky she's in a soundproof room! You two should be ashamed!" "I-I'm sorry, Magda. I just want to help. I trust Miss Americana." "Pah! Crazier than his fa-" "ENOUGH! I will listen to this Miss Americana. Because I want our little Eira to live. Tell me, Miss. Tell me the brief details of your plan. I am no scientist like Eira's 'Uncle Magnus' over there." The good Baron had the decency to blush a bit at that comment, before stepping more fully to the side, giving the All-American Heroine a chance to speak. It was clear both Magnus and Bernhard were still in something of a mood.

It was funny how his contacts in the city worked out sometimes. Gabriel had bee on a fairly standard, quiet patrol, when one of the veteran police officers from the Southside precinct waved him down to ground level. It was quickly explained that there was "some really freaky stuff" occurring at a Parkside Cinema building. Gabriel hadn't needed much convincing to get involved. So it was that the final member of the "merry little band" made his presence known with a small sonic boom, even as he slowed drastically, lowering himself to the ground. He glanced about, taking in the various individuals present. "Nick, good to see you again. You as well, Wander. Jack, hope you're not getting into too much trouble. And...I haven't had the pleasure, sir. You may call me Gabriel." He offered "Caradoc" a handshake and a warm smile, before turning to face Nick (who he'd been told had also been called in) with a more serious expression on his face. "So. What are we looking at?"

Magnus nods. "Still...It remains a better option than any other we have. Her next-best hope, as I see it now, ends with her confined to some iron lung or other cumbersome device, locked away from the world. I shall call the family up shortly. I assume there is video-conferencing capability in this room?" After receiving his answer, he hesitates a moment, then presses on with a few more questions. "I'll leave exact decisions about "apparent age" to the family, but I feel I must ask: Exactly how, ah, lifelike will these bodies be? I mean no offense by this, but instead I'm trying to determine exactly what she'd be dealing with."

And there it was. A solution, a way to save a little girl with her whole life ahead of her. But a solution so radical it had never been done. 'What's our other choice? Hope we're lucky enough to get her stable enough to live her life hooked up to an iron lung? Maybe clone her a whole new body...in a few decades? She's giving us an option here, damn it!' Magnus sighed, rubbing his temples for a moment. "I...I can't really make that decision, in the end. I am not her parents. I am only an ambassador for the family, if you will. But...I can get them on the line. They may agree. We have to know, though. How would we simulate her growing up? Obviously most of the, ah, negatives of the next few years could be avoided...but what about the positives?"

Magnus nodded slowly, his mind clearly grasping the scenario Miss Americana was laying out before him. "Even worse would be the fact that with so many replacement organs, she'd face severe issues as the biological parts of her body grew, and the artificial parts did not." All of the sudden, he slammed his left fist onto the table, his face a mask of undirected anger. "Damn it! I should have pushed even more money into the organ cloning program! A few million more..." He flexed the hand a bit, rubbing it with right hand as the redness faded. "So far you're just giving me bad news. Please tell me you have good news. Not minor good news like "I can make her happy before she dies", but major "Eira will not die this day" good news."

Katastroff waits in tense silence, his left leg occasionally bouncing up and down in a nervous gesture before he brings it under control, at least for a few minutes. He seems to have calmed down a bit overall, not even letting out any follow-up sniffles. When Miss Americana delivers her verdict, the color drains from his face, he visibly sags in his chair, and resignation begins to fill his features. "I didn't...She...They tried..." He closes his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. When they open again, there is a spark of his confidence showing again. "Can you help her?"

Corbin breathes a sigh of relief as his power returned to him. He hadn't noticed it at first, but even the power innate to his body had seemed...muted. Now, he once more had the fires of Heaven coursing through his veins. He fiddled with the ring as he spoke. "Wards, huh? By someone named Warlock? Sounds like he's a fellow who knows his stuff. As for needing high explosives...I hate to say this, but do we have any guarantee they don't have something like that? I mean, you make it sound like whatever it is you have, it's pretty important. As for getting me mixed up in this? Don't fret. It's Freedom City. It doesn't happen every day, but I've seen my share of weird things." He stood and walked over to Push, pausing a couple of feet away. "Do you need help with that? And...I was serious about the cops. We're kind of stuck here. I'd rather they not have the time to try something to get down to us. They're locked out...but we're also locked in."

"I think most people don't give as much thought to how many animals we have. I mean, it's just part of how things are, you know?" He shrugged. "Suppose that's what outside perspective brings once in a while... Anyways, yes. I do attend school. I'm at Claremont Academy, though I won't tell you under what name unless you end up there. Why? Are you looking to go to school?" He gives Sharl a sidelong look, one eyebrow raised.

The Baron took the tissues and used several to dry off his face. He sighed and nodded at Miss A's words. "I don't like the time-table either, but it's what we have. And yes, I have some records here." He reaches into an inner pocket of his suit, pulling out a high-capacity flash drive. "Medical records, as many different scan and test results as I could get my hands on, and the most recent iterations of our various artificial organ models, especially including hearts. That one's theoretically simpler, but in practice it's been harder, at least for our goal of never needing external power and so on."

"Do you need me to call the cops? Or do we just sit down here until they're gone?" For a moment, Corbin didn't turn around. Instead, he frowned, staring at his ring. He then turned to the runes on the trap door, nodding his head towards them as he spoke. "Interesting runes. Don't recognize them off-hand, which actually says something. They do anything special? Or is it just for show?" He looked around before walking over to a chair and settling down.

"Hm. We do have a few visitors from "out of town" in this city." The air quotes he formed were made from the same blue fire that surrounded him. "How far away are we talking, in general terms? Wait, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." He shook his head and shifted into lecture mode. "Few people ride horses on a regular basis. A few enthusiasts, who typically live on the outskirts of a city, or in the rural areas. The occasional riot police. And those guys who give carriage rides in the winter. I'm pretty sure if you're riding a horse in the city, it's supposed to wear a special "harness" that, ah, prevents the spread of waste. If you will. Since the volume's a lot higher than a dog or cat. Even with those, they're not supposed to go just anywhere; most parks have areas it's alright to do so, but sometimes owners have to use special sealed bags to, ah, clean up after them. Because you're right: the stench would be horrible."

Baron Katastrof stood, a small smile on his face, before he then lowered himself into a chair. He visibly sagged. "Roughly two years ago, my young cousin Eira was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect. She was, at the time, only 7 years old. The complication has been twofold. First, her body still has much growing to do, making immediate selection of a donor heart difficult. Second, for whatever reason, her body seems set to utterly reject essentially any replacement organs. Perhaps if they could clone her own heart...but of course, it's a unique genetic defect. If we can help her, they have experimental treatments that would ensure none of her children would fear this condition. But first she must reach this age. So, with a biological heart a non-option, they turned to artificial means. But none of the models I have helped them research have been sufficient. My company has yet to make the "breakthrough" to produce such a thing. And her condition has rapidly deteriorated much faster than we thought; she has perhaps 2 months left. Before that, we thought she still had at least 5 years where lesser treatments would suffice. I had been confident we would have a solution in that time. They only told me two weeks ago, when all other options had been exhausted. Or so they thought." There were tears in his eyes now. But behind those tears were the fires of determination and love for his family. "Please. I beg you. Help us. I will pay you whatever you require. I will fulfill any favor you ask of me. I will do whatever it takes. But help us save our little Eira."

Corbin turned towards the sound of the sedans screeching to a halt, and frowned. "הקללה הזו להפוך מצערת של ×ירועי×" In moments, he'd noted the position of all the doors. He raised his right hand, the one with the ring, and pointed it at the garage doors. In the next instant, there was a block of blue material that almost looked like metal covering both doors; it appeared to be a couple of feet thick. A similar impediment was over each of the smaller person-sized doors. Finally, a thinner covering went over Push, as a sort of final precaution. Corbin himself was already down the stairs, a faint trail of energy following after him. He was almost immediately within the library, and was at the desk, typing in the command phrase. Hopefully he'd be fast enough he could let his constructs go before the thugs really saw them. Bad enough he'd basically outed his identity to Push.

Corbin kept his calm, especially once it was clear the man was not in an immediately life-threatening condition. He glanced at the nearby console, then back at the wounded hero. "Tell me the code. I'll get us secured, and we can call the police. You're in no condition to fight." The fact that Corbin could likely keep the two of them totally safe wasn't really the issue at the moment. He'd rather not reveal his powers just yet if he didn't have to.

Corbin had made sure to call his parents after seeing the dent (and taking a couple of pictures with his phone). They hadn't been really happy, but they said it would be alright. There wasn't much he could do about the other driver, and since it was pretty clear he wasn't at fault, his insurance would be fine. He'd told them he was going to try finding a body shop on his way home, since the dent wasn't too major. His choice had seemed fine at first. The situation quickly grew complicated, though. Concern flashing over his face, he dashed over to the man on the ground, stopping himself before touching the man. Who know how bad he was hurt? "Sir, can you hear me? I'll call 911, but I need you to tell me roughly how badly you're hurt, so they can prepare better."

Cobalt Templar raised an eyebrow at the guy who could phase through things. Interesting, but not the wildest thing he'd seen. And it wasn't like he was doing anything bad; shoot, he was all for people looking into history more! On a whim, he decided to fly closer, perhaps to strike up a conversation with the intangible youth. He trailed ethereal fire through the air, until he was roughly matching Sharl's flight patterns. "Not the best days in our nation's history, but there were still moments of greatness. You read much about the Civil War battles around here?"

Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'm fine with continuing as we are.

The Lab, Afternoon When the Baron walked in, he bore no suitcase or folder of any kind; he brought nothing but himself and his impeccable suit into that building. His movements were clipped, precise, and almost mechanical in nature. There were slight bags under his eyes, which themselves seemed a bit bloodshot. When he was escorted up to the conference room, he waited until his guide had left the room, and it was just himself and Miss Americana. At which point, he slowly knelt down, his head bowed as he began to speak. "Miss Americana. When last we met, my words and attitude did you a disservice to both you and me. You deserved more respect than I gave, and I should have been a better representative for my company. I can only say that I was still on the "rush" of opening our American branch, and was not used to dealing with someone in your position, in that context. I ask, nay, beg for your forgiveness. For I now have dire need of your knowledge and skill." He raised his head to look at her, his eyes pleading. "The life of my cousin hangs in the balance."

Sunday April 17, 2011 City Center, Rooftop Level Cobalt Templar blazed through the skies of Freedom City, dipping his flight path lower as he passed over the heart of the bustling metropolis. His aura of ethereal blue flames pulsed a bit brighter as he saw a few young children looking up and pointing. He smiled at the thought; little kids were always fun to impress with nifty powers. Not that that was the only reason to be a hero. He nodded when he passed a few other airborne heroes going about their business in other directions. It never hurt to be polite, after all. After some time, he settled a bit lower in the air, hovering not far from Freedom Plaza as he cast his gaze around. It would be a foolish, or terribly brave, criminal who tried something so close to the very headquarters of the Freedom League, but such things were nonetheless possible. Of course, as he floated there he was obvious, as only a many who appeared to be covered in blue fire could be.

An OOC just in case, for the thread where Cobalt Templar meets Sharl, and new opportunities are opened for our young virtual hero!

Saturday, April 16th, 2011 Hanover, The Lab It was at roughly 7:45am when a call came in from a private line to the receptionist at the Lab. "Yes, this is Baron Magnus Vilhelm Katastrof. I was hoping to set up an appointment to meet with one Miss Americana as soon as possible. I realize she is a busy and dedicated individual, and that our last meeting was less than perfect. However, you would have my deepest gratitude if you could communicate to her that this is a matter of utmost urgency affecting people more than just myself, and that I will give her a formal, personal apology in person if she so accepts." The Baron will leave contact information for himself with the receptionist before he ends the call. --------------------------------- The Baron's Office in Freedom City Magnus set the phone back on its cradle, settling back into his chair as he stared pensively at the far wall. Thankfully, his secretary had been briefed to keep all but the most critical issues out of his attention for the day. "Please madame...Let me meet with you and beg for help..."

I'm not looking to make this full-on combat intensive, but maybe we'll do a bit of rolling in here, one way or another.

The man in white's voice is like a whisper after the terrible cry he had let loose a moment ago. "I am a shepherd for the innocent and helpless." Slowly he floated down to the ground, where he gently landed and took a moment to catch his breath. However, even then he did not appear truly tired, merely winded for a moment. With a shake of his head, he stood up a bit straighter. He walked over to the warrior, a smile on his face. "Call me Gabriel, brave warrior. I commend your courage, standing against those beasts. As for helping you, it was the right thing to do. In the end, what choice did I have? I'm glad we've spared you a lecture from your wife. What is your name, sir?" At the man's mention of returning to the field of battle, Gabriel frowned slightly and tried to take stock of the situation. "Do you have any suggestions on where we should strike next?"

"In the context of my usage, it could imply either the degree of a polynomial, where n represents a natural number, or saying meaning that something is raised to a very high level. In this case, my intended meaning was the second; my concern was less with the number of questions, and more with the tone of the questions." Fenris's tone was calm and collected. Almost like he was a teacher giving a lecture. It was clear Jubatus didn't really intimidate him or impress him. "It's possible it's a plot from another country. Equally possible is a rival designer who wanted this person out of the way. If they can pin the blame on a foreign country, thus ultimately giving themselves even more business and prestige, all the better for them. We can't stick too closely to one idea or the other. Honestly, it'll be hard to say much more until we see the scene."

All present could hear the man's sigh through the suit's speakers. "You're lucky I've made sure I'm the only one with access to the suit. Get me some stuff to disguise myself with, and I'll get changed." Fenris stood there, accepting the logic the others are presenting, but obviously waiting to actually have disguise material before hopping out.