2020-02-01 - Celerity Meets Celerity

Summary:

Anon meets Celerity while he's speed-mapping.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Feb 1 10:39:43 2020
Location: Central Park

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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cain-mccormickanon

Is is early in the day, not quite five am and though the temperature is above freezing, it isn't very much so, not quite forty. There's a light southeasterly breeze, and night sky is dotted with clouds just before true sunrise. As for Cain, he's been up a while. He often keeps rather strange hours, especially when he has a rare day off, or in this case after having pulled a long shift and needing to unwind a bit before heading home.

He's dressed for the chill, sturdy boots, denim jeans, a WWI era bomber jacket and scarf, and is wearing a pair of ski-goggles with mirrored golden lens. And what else does a speedster do to relax? He runs of course!

Moving at about two-hundred fifty miles per hour, he is moving far too fast for a normal human to accurately see more than a blur, though the trail of purple sparks and streams of light behind him is interesting. What is /more/ interesting, perhaps is when he weaves a bit, and dips into…something unseen, crossing some boundary where his form /fades/, his lightning with it, and his speed /jumps/ to over mach one.


For contrast, Celerity Carter isn't still awake. She's already awake, having dragged herself up and out early to deal with some schoolwork. She's taken her books out to Central Park for some fresh air, all bundled up for warmth and plodding through it. At least the maths are already done.

Then comes the blur passing by. She hadn't been paying attention, let alone bringing her senses up to full speed, so it is just a blur at first. The sparks, however, catch her attention, and she tunes in to follow with her eyes. But it's already passed by.

Something this kind of fast… there's always a risk it's dangerous, something that she should look into. Or, more accurately, that Anon should look into. She locks up her bag, slips into the bathroom…

And then out comes that golden blur, chasing the trail of sparks.


For a speedster running is a thing worth doing just for its own sake, something that young miss Carter and only a bit older mister McCormick would both have intimate acquaintance of. He's /very/ much enjoying the bursts of speed, but an even nicer aspect is the burst of energy the dips grant.

As Anon closes in, it won't take but moments, she's hear a warm trill of laughter and delight as the man in the bomber jacket runs along the invisible boundary of the leyline in a pattern not unlike a sine wave punctuated by speed bursts with every crossing.

Still, speedsters are also by dread need hyper aware of their environs, it isn't long before he notes the golden blur chasing him.

Having not met a lot of speedters, and feeling no magic from the pursuer, not that he's good at that - he offers a two finger wave to the girl.


Anon has to squint at the path he's taking, waving and weaving back and forth. She can't see any reason why he isn't just going in a straight line. She has no awareness of magic; she's just a mutant, and may not even know what a leyline is. Her own situational awareness is enough to keep from crashing into anything, though she does have to ramp off a sedan which had been cutting through traffic. But at these speeds, traffic may as well be frozen compared to them.

She catches up; she gets his attention. She shouts something at him — or tries to. But going this fast, they outrun their own sound waves before they even hear them. It's an odd experience for her, feeling the vibrations in her jaw and throat but not hearing them in her ears. She hasn't met many other speedsters, either, and so hasn't had to deal with this. She frowns, a slight flush on her cheeks, and just returns the wave.


Part of the weaving is to help him /map/ the leyline, until recently HE didn't know what one was either! Cain can't help but laugh a bit when the predicament of outrunning their words becomes apparent. Realizing this and noting the friendly, or at least non-threatening wave, he slips to the side of the leyline, dropping down to a lazy couple hundred miles per hour.

A smile. "Hello!" A tap to his chest. "Celerity." His voice is…odd. Something about it familiar, though it isn't likely to be immediately placed, still, Anon might well remember it somewhat.


Anon slows; she can't benefit from leylines, but this speed is still practically a speedwalk to her. More comfortable for conversation, in more ways than one.

When he introduces himself, her mask saves her. Otherwise, he would have seen the face-fault. Did he just call her by name? No, no, he's not saying she is Celerity. He's saying he is. God, add that to the pile of other confusions you have to keep straight when you have a secret identity. Such as whether Anon should recognise this man, or if it's someone Celerity knows. So she'll do her best not to react to that sense of recognition until she's sure.

Instead, she taps herself in turn. "Anon."


For the sheer joy of it, and perhaps to see if Anon can do it, he runs up the wall of a skyscraper, speed bumped to five hundred as he trails purple lightning and sparks up the side for a fractional second, ending up on the top of the building a good forty floors up in an area full of antennae and HVAC equipment, and incongruously, a lawn chair under an umbrella, though it is closed (the umbrella) and the lawn chair is rimed with frost at these chill heights.

"As in Again, or short for Anonymous, or both?" His lips curve in a grin, cheeks rough with five-oclock shadow to match tousled black hair with a leaf stuck in it from the run.


Yeah, Anon can do that too. There's something odd about the way she does it, though, like it isn't pure momentum carrying her upwards. It's like something in her bribes gravity to look the other way, or at least to go easy on her. Either way, though, they rush up the building and all the way to the rooftop.

Which means Anon is left in her costume, without the benefit of running to keep her warm. Will the weather please heat up already? She still hasn't developed a winter costumer. "As in 'at once' and short for anonymous. Both of those." She taps the mask. Yep, she's anonymous. "And you? You like that game with the vampires or something?"


Celerity notes the shivering, and then smiles faintly as he removes his jacket, under it he's wearing a flannel shirt, long sleeved and a t-shirt under that, he'll be plenty warm for the time being. "Here." He offers the jacket, holding it open should she accept, a gentlemanly gesture that shows he has some manners at least.

A laugh. "Actually…not so fond of vampires, no. I do like games, however." Wryly. "Not that I can play most sports anymore, not with it being a true contest." Should she permit, he'll let Anon have the use of his jacket for a while, it smells freshly oiled, and is still heated from his body, there's also a faint hint of cologne, something mild - Old Spice maybe? Hard to say.


"Ah, no thanks, I'm fine." Anon flushes at the gentlemanly gesture, but shakes her head; she's a strong, confident speedster who don't need no jacket. Plenty of ordinary human beings vibrate to keep themselves warm. She's just better at it. She'll just still grumble from time to time.

She smirks faintly. "I can't do track and field anymore, not without outing myself. And that is not going to happen. So… you been running like this long? And what's with that… weaving back and forth? You'd have to run backwards if you're trying to make a lightning symbol in the ground, you can't just turn side to side."


Jacket refused, he dons it again, hey, he's not too proud to admit needing it. Of course that trick with the shivering is a neat one, he'll file it away for future reference for sure. Cain laughs softly at her smirk. "Yeah, that's my problem too, I was - of course - a sprinter in school, track and field." A helpless shrug and then he moves to the edge of the building, comfortable sitting on the edge with feet dangling down. "A couple years." He answers, looking over a shoulder if Anon hasn't joined him. "The view up here is -amazing-, and the sun will be rising in a few."

He ponders the other question, and then just shrugs. "I'm magical. I was running along a leyline, a sort of pathway that allows magic to flow around the globe, sort of like a web. I just learned that I can run faster in one, and that it keeps me from getting tired as quickly, so, when I have any down time I map them out."

A snicker. "No, not trying to make any symbols, just speed-mapping."


There's nothing quite like super-powers to make someone more bold. With the mask on, Anon sees no reason not to sit on the rooftop's edge, in arm's reach beside him. "Mmf. The sun still isn't up. I'm up way too early." She squints at his explanation. "A… what line?" Yeah, she's never heard of them. Man, read some fantasy, girl. "Huh. Does that only work for you, because you're magic? I've never run into anything that makes it easier." She tilts her head, then gives him a playful little smirk. "So you're looking for places you can go to get ley'd?"


Seriously! KNOWING that if you fall you can try to run down the building, or wait until near the ground and then create cyclones with your arms to break your fall, does have a factor. One foot is shifted up, arms wrapping the knee as he looks outward. "Yeah, I guess I'm not really 'human' anymore, I'm faerie, like an elf or a pixie I guess." He's going to explain more than less rather than be obscure and fail to communicate. "LeyLines, yeah, I /just/ learned about them, pretty neat, though in order to take advantage of 'em I have to follow /their/ path, so…not always the best course, but the speed boost is almost always worth it." A grin. "And yes, their magic and mine apparently go together like a horse and carriage, I guess." Almost literally in fact!

He laughs outright, warm and unabashed at the teasing comment. "Oh yes, I enjoy very much being well ley'd." A snigger after that, expression vastly amused.


Anon isn't the type to do the arm-cyclone thing, but she could certainly grab the wall and get running again. Honestly, as long as she's in control of it, she can head for the ground faster than terminal velocity, and not end up in terminal condition.

"Uh-huh. So you're like Tinkerbell. Should I clap my hands and say I believe?" Anon is rather more sassy than Celerity. That's all part of being able to put on a mask and stop being such a good, obedient little girl. She pouts at the snicker, arms folding. "Dang it, that was supposed to make you blush!" Instead, she's the one who ends up with a bit of scarlet on her cheeks. She huffs, adjusting her hood.


"I'm… not human either, it turns out," she says. "Got a positive diagnosis. I'm a mutant."


Wryly. "You should see me in a tutu." Cain says with a serious mien, though unseen eyes are rich with laughter unuttered. Ah, banter, a staple of the Speedster paradigm! "Oh, you'd have to be a lot more explicit to make me blush, kiddo. I'm an EMT, I've been around a bit." And that might just be enough clue to remember who this guy is. Actually, thinking back, he was pretty friendly as he cared for her hurt sibling, actually getting the kid to laugh a time or two in the process.

He quirks his head to the side at the mutant reveal. "Really? Interesting. What's that like? You sound…dubious about it."


EMT. That's where she knows him from. Her own hidden eyes flash with recognition and understanding, though she keeps a cap on it otherwise. That's how Celerity knows him; this is the first time Anon has met him. "Kiddo. I can't be more than a couple years younger than you. I'm an adult, I'll have you know!" Not that she's old enough for alcohol or tobacco in these jurisdictions. She shrugs at the question. "Honestly? I felt weird having powers even before I knew where they came from. It's not something too many people know about."


That's where Celerity Carter knows Celerity the Speedster from, yup. His first name even started with a C!

"Kiddo." He says firmly, though the microtells of suppressed laughter are /very/ visible to another speedster. "Adulting sucks a lot of the time." He opines, and then nods as he looks to the girl. "However, if you're truly irked, I apologize."

A heartfelt sigh. "I feel ya. My powers? They were triggered by alchemy." A sigh. "I have NO idea where they really come from, and I haven't any idea what exactly was the trigger, or how I got better after being sick." He smiles. "So…you're one up on me, Anon."


It started with a C, sure, but a hard C. Not the soft C like his code name, which could kind of throw her off.

She pouts at the insistence of those three years' difference being So Very Significant, eyeing him as best she can through the mask. "Well, I mean… does anyone really know where magic comes from? I've heard it's the kind of thing you either have or you don't. Maybe it's, like… you're one of those people who has it? Or maybe you are a faerie, or your dad was or something? Like a… like a…" She frowns. "I don't know any faeries other than 'pixie'." She's only spelling it right because of her typist. If Anon herself wrote it down, it'd probably be 'fairy'.


Fair points, very different sounds.

He laughs at the pout. "Don't worry about it, Anon. I was teasing, you're really not that much younger than me, at least I don't think so and it isn't like I'm going to card you." The guy is really pretty genial. "Oh, I mean, I /know/ I'm faerie, just not sure /why/ or how, for all I know I'm a half-blod or something, I never knew my parents." He smiles. "There's a lot of us, though oddly I've found no lore on any with my particular powerset, so maybe I'm a faerie-mutant, or the equivalent." He shrugs one shoulder. "I mean…cold iron? Some holdy ground? These things really do hurt and affect me."


Anon tilts her head. "Being a half-blood sounds most likely. I mean, how else would a person 'be' faerie?" Well, you could have been the firstborn son promised in a faerie deal when the parents were desperate, that's one way. But again: Anon doesn't know the lore. Her head tilts the other way. "Cold iron. Is that some special kind of iron? Or is it just a dramatic way of saying it, like 'hot lead' or 'cold steel' or 'cold hard cash'?"


"I really can't say for sure. I was raised in the system." A little bemused to be telling his origin story to a stranger, he grins. "My last adopted parent experimented on me with his alchemy, I found detailed notes in his lab later. Anyway…maybe I was /created/, or maybe I had a distant ancestor and the potions and such woke that blood up, but yeah, I could be a half-blood." Or it could have been an ancient deal too, sure. There's a lot of possibilities, and really not data to work from other than a memory with gaps, and a journal which was burned long ago.

"You know…I haven't experimented too much, but even normal steel seems to be a bother, I was recently treated to something else…it hurt a lot, so there might be 'grades' of hostile to the metal."


Anon can see the appeal. With a mask on, between mutual strangers, you can say whatever you like without worrying that it'll come back to you later. It's like screaming into the void, except the void is a person who can talk back for a little while. She grimaces at the talk of experimenting, shaking her head. And she thought her mother was bad — though she doesn't say that aloud. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Anon doesn't have a mother.

"Steel has more in it than just iron, too," she says, as she gets back to her feet. "So maybe it's something about 'purity'? But anyway… I should get back to what I was doing, and let you get back to 'getting ley'd'."


"Carbon, other elements, yeah, it might be just that simple - the purity determines the aggro." Oh, gamer term, he really DOES like gaming!

When Anon makes her farewell he nods. "Yeah, most guys can't think of anything beyond the next ley session." He quips with a grin. At that point, for the sheer adrenaline rush, he taps a salute to his brow and then pushes off the wall to free fall toward the ground, dual cyclones generated by his arm to break his fall, and then he dips into a leyline, zipping off at mach speed leaving a hazy purple train behind as he does.


Anon doesn't freefall: she runs down the wall — and just as predicted, she's faster than terminal, and she swiftly bends from vertical to horizontal, racing away back towards the park. It was good to get some time with the mask on, but Celerity has homework.


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