Prefight Recruitment

[Demi Smith]

Late May 2014

Demi wanted to protest. Technically she had, if only a little, but that had been days ago, when they'd first told her what was to happen. They were going to take her to a new place, a school, where she would be trained by fellow mutants. She would live with other mutants, work with them, and attend classes. She was not to believe what they told her or forget that she was due an Inheritance. She was not to associate with humans. Actually, the list was longer than that, but it all boiled down to those two key things in the end.

So Ceres was accompanying her to where they were both to meet the "Recruiter." They'd gathered some possessions for Demi, mostly various garments in a sack she'd made herself, which sat next to them. Demi wore a loose shirt tied at the waist with a hemp rope and baggy pants, all of which ended in sandals. As was usual, a layer of dirt and dust caked most of her, not to mention making the already drab clothes even browner than usual. Beside her stood the thick woman known as Ceres, all muscle and sternness.

Demi sighed, shifting her feet. "He's late," she said, her voice clipped. "And I still don't see why--" she stopped though, looking away. Ceres hadn't responded; which was usual, expected, even. Demi sighed in frustration, looking down at the dust. She moved to kick at it with her leg, feeling it move in small circles around her. Wonderful. She took a deep breath, breathing in the dirt, letting it filter through her. She wanted to do some Flow exercises, work out her kinks, channel her energy, but she'd barely started moving when she felt the earth grabbing her feet. She could fight it; had, in fact, done exactly that in the past. No real point though: Ceres would beat her every time. So Demi sighed, crossed her arms, and waited.

He'd be here soon enough. She hoped. Though she was already wondering if she should just attack him. After all, if they couldn't beat her, then clearly they shouldn't be bothering to try and "recruit" her. She smiled, shifting her feet, already bracing herself, planning her first several moves, her entire body tightening with anticipation.

[Alistair Magnussen]

[/font][/font][/font][/b]t didn’t take much conversation to figure out Alistair’s stance when it came to mutant superiority. While he didn’t often come out and outright state that he felt that humans were an inferior stock, one would never hear him preaching the gospel of humanity. When it came to The Inheritors, Alistair’s mind had yet to be made up. He tried not to jump to hasty decisions when it came to the belief systems of others, at least not in a public forum. He preferred to observe, collect information, and take a stance when sufficiently informed on the subject; especially when it came to other mutant organizations and their stances. That being said, there definitely was a certain charm to a group of people living free from the influence of humanity.

Looking out of the tinted window, he gazed upon the wilderness that had engulfed them. Each bump on the dirt road a reminder of a world that had become seemingly foreign to most. Many had grown so attached to city life that they forgot what it was like to live without so many of the technological essentials that made up most of their day-to-day interactions. While not completely old fashioned, Alistair preferred to interact with people face-to-face. He wasn’t keen on tweeting, texting, or phone calls. Taking this into account, he still wasn’t too keen on the fact that he had lost all cell reception in the past ten minutes or so. Leaning away from the window, he settled into the faux leather of the jet black SUV, looking forward as he did so. It was then that the vehicle slowed to a stop.

“We’re here.”

The driver spoke, and he was given a solemn nod in response. While normally quite an opposing figure, there was something about the way a fine-cut, three piece suit sat upon his figure that made him look even larger than he was. Sheer black, the only colored accents being the golden cuff links emblazoned with horned triskele. His facial gruff was clean and tight. Trimmed and styled, two and a half inches in length and pressed back into his flesh. His golden mane slicked back, the excess pulled back into a ponytail. Pressing a meaty hand to the door handle, he pressed forward and exited the vehicle. [/ul][/ul][/div]

[Demi Smith]

The car pulled up and Demi struggled not to tense. She'd seen cars; she wasn't that sheltered. Most of the Inherited didn't drive because motor vehicles were usually put together by humans. The few they had had been cobbled together from parts they'd made themselves and probably weren't what you'd call legal. Didn't mean that every Inherited hadn't seen a car: the things were everywhere, after all. Also didn't mean that Demi didn't scoff at the plain sight. Why not have a horde of speedsters just run them to the meeting spot? Or a teleporter of some kind? Clearly they didn't know how to properly use their powers, which didn't bode well for them being trainers.

"They're stupid," said Demi, already feeling her hackles raise. She felt Ceres put a restraining hand on her shoulder and it took all Demi had not to roll it off. Ceres had long since earned the right to touch Demi, even admonish her. Demi had, after all, tasted Ceres' dirt enough to know. So the young Inherited relaxed, though she kept her eyes on the vehicle.

Someone stepped out. Demi tensed, preparing to lash out, and she nearly laughed as the large, bearded man exited. "He looks tough," she said. "Do I get to find out? Is he going to be my--" but again with the hand, and again Demi sighed.

"Alistair," said Ceres, nodding and stepping forward. She had a tight smile and gestured. "Demeter of the Inherited, so you'll probably want to call her Demeter Smith, as per the arrangement," she lowered her hand then, looking at the man. Demi couldn't shake the feeling that they'd met or something, but then again, Ceres had practically acted like that when she'd first met Demi, so the youngster couldn't say anything with certainty.

[Alistair Magnussen]

[/font][/font][/font][/b]e looked upon the rather plain girl, sizing her up. The tension in the air was nearly palpable, but this was quite common in most situations. But to say this particular situation was common would be a lie. The Inherited presented a unique opportunity, and this child would be far more prepared for the experience than most of her peers. It was then that he turned his attention away from the young woman, and offered the slightest of smiles to the woman.

“Miss Ceres.”

It wasn’t often that Alistair greeted others in a warm manner, or formal. There was respect to be given to those who choose to lead such a life. He admired a person – or a group of people – who stood up for their beliefs in such a manner. What little he knew about their people intrigued him, and the toned appearance of the youngling piqued his interest even more. It was not hard for a warrior to look upon another and see a kindred spirit. Their stance, their structure, the way they engaged the world around them with their senses. There was just something that set them apart from the rest of the herd, and it was that something that made him all the more interested.

There would be time for further observation once they arrived at the school, something he was quite ready for. He had never been one for spending extended amounts of time within a confined space. With that, he turned his attention to the youngling in his presence.

“Are there any pressing questions that need answering before we depart?”
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[Demi Smith]

They knew each other, at least enough to be formal to one another. Demi's eyes slid from her Honer to the burly man. Maybe he'd been an Inherited who'd Disinherited? It happened from time to time, or so the stories said. Demi didn't actually know of anyone who'd personally done that, but she'd long since learned that her personal experience didn't encompass everything.

A question, something that opened up more, and Demi couldn't help herself. They did say that if you were asked a question you could feel free to answer, though you were supposed to answer in accordance with the proper guidelines. "You're not expecting us to ride in that, are you?" asked Demi, pointing at the vehicle. "It looks tainted and--" Whap! Ceres' hand connected with Demi's head, not exactly hard, but certainly enough to be felt. Demi winced and bent down, rubbing at the top of her head. She gave her Honer a look somewhere between anger and confusion. Ceres shot her a hard one in return.

"That wasn't to you," the woman said, then looked at Alistair. "Demeter's rougher and more aggressive than most of ours, for some reason," yeah, because that totally didn't have anything to do with them constantly saying that they were in a constant battle or anything, or the whole training her to beat people up. Demi kept her mouth shut though: she knew when to slide into respectful mode. She couldn't help but give the vehicle an icy stare, one that slid to the man who was clearly tainted. Probably a weakling too, one that even Demi could beat, all that impurity couldn't be good for you.

[Alistair Magnussen]

[/font]”

A subtle smirk crept across his grizzled features as he watched the interaction between the two. It was always nice to see a bit of discipline in action, a firm hand was often lacking when it came to such interaction in modern times. Each generation had become softer than the last, it seemed as though it had come to the point where spanking was something that was deemed barbaric too many. As to the youngling’s question, he offered a chuckle before speaking very plainly.

“You’re free to run behind us, if you like. “

Without context it may have sounded like a joke. Hell; if somebody else had tossed the statement out it probably would have been. But Alistair was quite serious about the suggestion, and stern look reflected as much. While he respected the youth’s beliefs, he was far more concerned with getting her there in a timely manner. If she had to succumb to exhaustion behind the exhaust of the SUV, it meant it would be a far quieter ride for him.

“Tainted as it may be, it is a tool and nothing more. If you wish to take advantage of it, so be it. If you wish to jog the distance to the school, I assure you the greater outcome will remain the same. At some point you will end up in the manmade monstrosity, and at that point we can arrive at the academy in a far more time-efficient manner.”

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[Demi Smith]

Free to run behind them? Demi was almost tempted to try, though she knew she couldn't keep up with the SUV. So instead she just folded her arms over her chest, staring hard at the man. "I don't have super speed. I'm not an idiot." Though she couldn't be certain that Alistair still wasn't considering it. There was something in his tone that suggested that he'd be perfectly fine with Demi jogging along behind them. She could almost feel Ceres giving her a look, probably had something to do with talking out of turn. So Demi lapsed into a moody silence.

Tool, yeah, sure, she supposed they could think of it that way. "That will be sufficient," said Ceres, obviously taking over for speaking for both of them. "Demeter and I will ride quite fine in the car," there was a slight edge there that cut both ways: Demi would ride, and Alistair would allow her too. The Honer walked to the vehicle, showing no fear at the creation. She only paused when she reached the vehicle, looking back at Demi, who hadn't moved.

The girl shifted. She couldn't help the concern she felt about this whole thing. What if the vehicle exploded? What if its human taint got into her somehow? Would it even carry them? Demi took a deep breath. The others had ridden in it; Ceres was going to. so Demi could to. She stoically marched toward the vehicle, stopping only for a moment before hoisting her dirty body into the vehicle. Ceres gave Alistair a look at that, wanting to share her exasperation of dealing with the child, before climbing in after Demi.

[Alistair Magnussen]

[/font][/font][/font][/b]he patience shown by Ceres was commendable. The child’s attitude, while intriguing, was starting to wear on his nerves, not that such a feat was hard to accomplish. There was a reason why Alistair didn’t interact with many of the students at the school. While he enjoyed reaching out and bringing the children into the haven that Bellefonte provided, that didn’t mean he had to like most of them. He didn’t care for most children, but even with the behavior presented, there was something about this girl’s spirit that allowed her a bit more patience than one would normally be given. If it were not for the presence of Ceres, he’s not quite sure it would have gone as amicably as it had.

Alistair had never been afraid of using a firm hand when it was needed. While the school didn’t like kindly to it, he was often able to justify his actions. That being said, his level of restraint in such situations was always noted. Sometimes force was necessary, and when one had an ability such as Alistair’s it was quite easy to lose control. The fact that composure had been kept was often something he would gladly make the powers-that-be aware of.

“I’m sure the stink is nothing that a nice, warm bath wouldn't rid you of.”

He quipped, as he approached the front passenger door. Pausing a moment, he waited for the two women to enter the vehicle, closing the door behind the youngling before taking his spot within. Settling into his seat, he looked over his shoulder and spoke.

“I promise that you won’t sympathize with the wretches anymore because you rode in this poorly-crafted vehicle.”
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[Demi Smith]

Demi adjusted on the seat as best she could, wrinkling her nose. The whole thing just looked horrible to her eyes, certainly nothing she ever wanted to experience again. Ceres gestured for her to put on the belt, so she did so, fighting the urge to grumble. The last thing Demi wanted was to be strapped into this this abomination, but she had already realized that fighting against the adults wouldn't really result in anything resembling "good" happening here.

Alistair seemed to almost treat the whole thing like some kind of joke, which made Demi want to attack him again. She clenched her hands into fists, already feeling the dirt layer she had on her skin sliding. Ceres placed a hand on hers, partly to restrain, no doubt, but she also gave a little squeeze, hinting that she understood, that she felt similar enough. Demi forced herself to relax, tried to remind herself that these were heathens, that she should take pity on them or something.

When Alistair looked over his shoulder though, Demi grunted and turned to look away, not even opting to look out the window. Ceres gave Alistair another look that communicated how very usual this was, before lightly elbowing the girl. Demi sighed then, looking up at Alistair. "Thank you," she said, practically spitting the words, "but I'm sure I'll be fine." and then she was back to looking at the door again, her arms folded over her chest, fingers fidgeting with the stupid thing wrapped about her chest.