milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's gotten to the point where Annabelle has to do maintenance on her weapons and armor in shifts. At the moment, she's doing maintenance on the first batch in one of the booths downstairs. Feel free to boggle, inquire, or start a conversation.

(OOC: Open as long as anyone wants to tag it.)
Tinytag!: Tanya Adams

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"I've never needed to. The professor wants us to use our powers instead of depending on other weapons."

He pauses, then adds as a side note.

"I'm a mutant."

Thankfully, Annabelle has some vague idea of what a mutant is.

"Ah," she says in understanding. "You have abilities most humans don't possess? I've got something of an uncanny knack myself, and I've worked with people whose abilities were of a more dramatic nature."

His mutant status is a non-issue.

He nods.

"I can freeze and manipulate the moisture in the air. I don't feel cold at all...not even in the Arctic."

He grins.

"Plus, I can do this."

A moment later, he is covered in ice.

"Which is WAY cool."

"That is impressive," Annabelle says with a surprised blink. "I would guess that you're difficult to harm when you're like that?"

"Pretty much. That, and I'm fast and have good fighting skills. In my world, I'm part of a superhero team."

He looks at her curiously.

"What is your special talent?"

"I have an uncanny knack with weapons, any weapons," Annabelle replies with a sharp smile. "Enough to earn me the nickname of Crackshot among my own superhero team."

She remembers Tanya's request to find people to help back in her own world. "Have you ever lent a hand to anyone here?"

"Not really, though I've visited another world just to hand out. I'm going to guess you and I are from different worlds. What's your team like?"

Annabelle's expression is faintly sad. "Our abilities weren't as...dramatic as some of those I've seen here."

"I suspect I'm from a rather earlier era as well," she adds. "I was born in 1909."

"Holy Macaroni! I didn't know they had superheros that far back. What year is it for you, now?"

"They may not have, in your world," Annabelle says with a smile. "I arrived here from 1938."

"That would make more sense than you being over a hundred years old."

"True enough." Michael is well over 200 and looks to be in his 30s, but we're not going there.

"Have you ever heard of the Æon Society or Utopia?"

"Not really. I think there was a Utopia in some book Hank was trying to make me read...by the same guy that wrote The Time Machine, but I never read it."

"You're not from my world, then," Annabelle says with a nod. "Not that I really expected you to be."

"It would be weird if I was, considering how people get dragged in from all over. Isn't a Utopia supposed to be a perfect society, or something? Why do you need superheroes?"

"It was a name from after my time, and a rather ironic one at that," Annabelle says bitterly.

"Not so perfect after all?"

"Far from it," Annabelle says with a sigh. "The things they did to maintain power and control people with superhuman abilities....."

"Yeah...there's a reason we wear masks and keep our identities secret."

He shrugs.

"People freak out over things they don't understand."

"Unfortunately," Annabelle replies with a solemn nod.

"Maybe one day you won't have to," she says with a small smile.

"That's what the professor is working toward. In the meantime, we learn to fight and save the world from time to time."

"I've done more than my share of that," Annabelle says with a smile. "There's always trouble somewhere."

"No kidding. I've ended up in the weirdest places and fought the weirdest villains."

"Amen," Annabelle says with a snort. "Who names themselves Fulminator, anyway?"

"I've heard worse, believe me. They call me Iceman, with is...duh, you know? But "Blob"? Pleeease. His power is being fat and hard to move."