Perspectives: Failure (July '08)

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Re: Perspectives: Failure (July '08)

Postby Visavis » Mon Apr 01, 2013 4:11 am

Visavis: A Punishment of Sorts
Sean opened the front door to his apartment and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Flipping on the light, he glanced around. Home sweet home. His elegantly appointed completely free apartment greeted him with its usual clutter, the sign of a bachelor. Absent-mindedly, he opened up some of the mail he had brought up with him. As someone else payed all the bills automatically every month, he found that the worst he had to expect were ads for remodeling. He tossed them all onto the small table by the door and continued into the main area of the apartment... and stopped.

There was something distinctly off about the place. He turned, slowly, looking around the room. With his vision he could see the natural flow and ebb of energy. Nothing stood out as particularly off.. yet, he knew there was something. Something small. He took a few steps in and moved about some energy, amplifying the ambient noises of his apartment. There. There was something new. It sounded... electronic. A small chill ran through him as he began searching for the source. Maybe it was nothing. Some of the Reciprocators knew where he lived, they could have left a gift or something. Or, perhaps Arachnos had finally caught up with him and left some sort of listening device. He shook his head. He was being ridiculous, he knew. Arachnos wouldn't do something like that. They'd simply send a Night Widow to kill him and be done with it.

He found it in the corner between his desk and the wall; an inconspicuous cylinder made of gray steel laying flat on the round side of its surface. It definitely wasn't something of his. Leaning over, he analyzed as well as he could with his vision. It gave off a faint emission of chemicals and electricity, which helped him in no way, since the same could be said for nearly any modern piece of technology. Crouching, he leaned in to get a closer look. No markings, at least on the side he could see. He pushed his desk away a little to give him more room. Activating his comm, he asked the coalition if anyone had left a package for him... and was greeted by silence. A nervous thrill ran through him as he reached out to pick it up. He turned it over, checking the surface. There was a small click. A small LCD screen lit up on the surface, revealing the words "Human Defense League". Underneath that, a small counter lit up. "10 seconds... 9 seconds..."

A wave of revulsion and adrenaline engulfed him as he darted straight up, still holding what was now clearly a bomb. "8 seconds..." A million scenarios ran through his head. He could disarm it; no time. He could run; there was nothing to take that kind of speed from, and there was no way he was going to endanger the other people in the building. "7 seconds." He could fry it with electricity; he would end up frying himself and possibly detonating it anyway. He could freeze it; that would do absolutely no good, and would probably give him hypothermia again. "6 seconds." He was wasting too much time! No time to think, only act. He swiveled around, eyes darting around the apartment. Something in his mind clicked. The oven! That would contain the blast, surely. "5 seconds." He leapt over the railing and kitchen counter to land in front of it. Wrenching the oven door open, he tossed it inside and quickly shut it. "4 seconds." He vaulted over the railing on the other side of the kitchen, next to the window. "3 seconds." He dove through the window, covering his face with his arms, and thankfully still wearing his usual combat uniform. Swirling the energy around him, he hit the rooftop patio below as softly as if he had simply jumped on to his bed. "2 seconds." He rolled and, not missing a beat, jumped again, distancing himself as much as he could from the building. "1 second." He landed on one of the shorter buildings next to his, while behind him the building shook from the explosion. He jumped again, and this time landed in one of Founders' Falls canals.

Turning slowly while treading water, he watched while a piece of yellow-ish brick crumbled away from his apartment, which was easily marked by the gaping hole and the smoke pouring out of it. Flames leapt from the hole as a fire alarm blared, and panicked yells began rising up from the neighborhood as people noticed what was happening. Sean simply stared at the hole, feeling numb all over, and not simply because of the cold water. A deep felt rage mixed with guilt and regret took over him. He should have thrown it into the canal.
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