I'm Just a Man, Not a God

Summer 2021, Week 5

Sunday afternoon

Moresby Estate, Loyalist Bluffs

Storyteller

As Peter and Sylvain had come to an agreement over the course of their recent meeting, both had expressed interest in the more intricate aspects of each other. Given the confidential nature of such information, a more private meeting was quickly arranged between the newly established business partners, and would take place on the Moresby family's local estate which Sylvain presently called home. Like many of the others in the area, the house - essentially a manor - was situated on a comfortably large plot of land and largely separated from the outside by a mixture of metal and flora. It was certainly a bit much for only one person to formally inhabit, but at the same time it was a clear display of the family's status and would no doubt suffice for a meeting of this nature. Or, even if things went sour, an afternoon in this part of town surely wouldn't be wasted.  

Peter Clifford

Driving up down the private road Peter got a sense of dread fill his soul. He hated this place with all his being. It served as a reminder of his past and the actions that he had potentially helped.   It was large place and it took Peter a few minutes to park and then enter the massive estate which he believed dwarfed his entire apartment complex.   He was greeted by a Butler who took his keys with pleasure and handed them to a valet and then showed Peter to the meeting room.   It was clear to a keen observer Peter was on edge. His eyes darting around trying to scan the environment. For sure, the recent dealing with Sylvain had allowed him to become friendlier and perhaps had found some trust in the man. Yet, Peter did not trust his family at all and especially not Sylvains father. Not one bit. He could no know who was listened. Who was watching. Peters senses felt like they were attuned up to a thousand as the Butler opened the door.  

Sylvain Moresby

While the better part of the Moresbys' wealth no doubt remained in Britain, this estate showed clear signs of it as well. Various works of art and old items of presumably high significance were on display in many parts of it - perhaps Sylvain was something of a collector, too. Still, little time was left for inspecting them as Peter was immediately allowed to enter the meeting room.   The room was likewise adorned with many an object and was spacious enough for a few people to easily attend, but the only one present was Sylvain, sitting behind a desk with a vacant seat opposite to him. His attention was already fixed on the door as Peter entered, clearly anticipating his arrival.   "I'm glad you could make it. Have a seat, ask if you need anything. We have plenty of time." As accommodating and in control as he was, he also seemed somewhat nervous or at least eager for the conversation.  

Peter Clifford

"A whisky. You know the one" The lad gave a nod to the butler of knowing and thanks before slowly making his way to his seat. Sat now, he adjusted himself slightly before placing his two hand on the table, cupped together. "Silvey" He smirked. Clearly trying to lighten the mood somewhat.  

Sylvain Moresby

Sylvain gave a humorous scoff, accepting the effort. "As if anyone's ever seriously called me that."   As their drinks - along with some conveniently small snacks - were being arranged, he spent the time describing some of the artworks and treaties in their near vicinity, clearly in order to save the significant topics until it was just the two of them. Once he was finished with some royal Polish document, they'd been left alone.   "I hope the place isn't too offputting. I would say the same of conspicuousness, but that'd be a lost cause."  

Peter Clifford

"Feel a lil odd to be in a building this new but it looking so old. Won't lie. Like your dad's holding on to something eh?" Peter shrugged. A light smile showing he wasn't being all too serious  

Sylvain Moresby

"I suppose old-fashioned families tend to be like that. It's easy to overcompensate when there's hardly a generation when a Moresby wasn't up to something big." Whether he was being honest or not, the remark seemed relatively light-hearted. "Must be easier for you in that regard, though you'd surely match great expectations, too."  

Peter Clifford

"Hard to change the landscape of the world when I got you on my back asking about profits." He teased before take a sip.  

Sylvain Moresby

"If you'd prefer to discuss finances with my father instead, I'll be sure to let him know." He joked in kind. "Anyhow, profit is only a secondary motivation, I'm sure I can make your inventions marketable enough when we get there. That'll be a topic for another time, though having some idea of your projects would be reassuring. I personally don't mind occasionally being a patron rather than a beneficiary, but you know how it is."  

Peter Clifford

"Indeed I do. Somehow gotta keep the lights on and honestly? You're enough for the rich boys I have to keep on side"  

Sylvain Moresby

"I'm glad to be of use. But as much as I'd love for us to keep elaborating what a beautiful partnership this will be, we ought to start breaching the topic of the day. Secrets." His expression darkened ever so slightly. "I suppose the only question is whether you'd rather be the first to ask or to answer."  

Peter Clifford

"Secrets? Come on now. How would I be able to keep secrets from the great and powerful Moresby dynasty?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Your compliance is admirable, but I certainly hope my secret will be safe with you. If all goes well, we will both be able to help each other... Which will likely be the subject of your newest project, perhaps one of many shared ones to come."  

Peter Clifford

Peter raised his right brow. Looking to his left and right before eyeing up the man in front of him. "Excuse me? You have your own secrets? Interesting that. Thought you were all perfect"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Oh, please. Everyone knows that the secrets of those in high circles are all the more dangerous. It's not some typical scandal, mind you, and it can't simply be buried away either. If I haven't already stressed it enough, I need the help of someone like you." His voice remained steady enough, but subtle signs of stress were getting more apparent as he tried to anticipate how the request would turn out.  

Peter Clifford

Peter shrugged slightly. Letting out a half nervous chuckle before rapling his knuckles on the table. He tuts. Then shrugs slightly. "Need is an important word there, bud. Reliance on someone must be... troubling for a Moresby"  

Sylvain Moresby

"It is. Though I doubt anyone would be entirely calm and collected about it." He reached his hands together, but hesitated and ended up simply scratching the gloved one. "I understand if you have no immediate solution... But what's most important is that this stays between us. So... I have your word, I hope?"  

Peter Clifford

He was slightly taken aback by the question. Looking slightly puzzled. Unsure of where to look at. "Well, I guess I do? I suppose? If its that important."  

Sylvain Moresby

"I'll hold you to that." After staring at Peter for another moment, he finally unfastened and removed the glove in his right hand. What had been concealed was no ordinary injury, perhaps no injury at all, but instead the entire hand seemingly covered by a black inky substance. Based on before the hand clearly functioned normally, but this 'condition' certainly seemed unusual. Rather than immediately speaking, he simply kept his eyes on his hand, quickly glancing at Peter from time as if expecting a response.  

Peter Clifford

He stared at the hand for quite some time. His eyes a mix of excitement and fear. His pupils large as they could be. He found himself somehow fixated on the hand. Unable to look away yet in tbr back of his mind a voice kept crying out. Telling him to run. This was when his very own leg awoke him. Tapping away as usual for the man when he is in an uncomfortable position. Casting a background beat to the event. Peter went to touch with his right hand. Stopping suddenly before reaching. A rather quick jolt back too as the young man almost winced. "Can, can I touch it... or?" His words were shaky.   Peter had seen alot during his time. People in dire circumstances and horrendous injuries but this was different. It seemed supernatural in origin. A curse. As though God himself had come down and struck the poor Moresby boy. Peters eyes finally turned away as he asked his question. His eyes now glued to Sylvains own. The fear and excitement still loomed but there was another thing. Pity.  

Sylvain Moresby

While various possibilities and doubts were clearly going through his head, Sylvain did manage to remain calm and collected, focusing on scrutinizing Peter's response. As he also slightly pulled back his hand to keep the distance, the question was answered by an amused scoff that seemed somewhat out of place. "I don't think you'll want to... See for yourself."   After taking one more sip of his drink, he unceremoniously poured the rest of it on the hand. Contrary to any reasonable expectation, none trickled on the table - in fact, once it came to contact with his hand, it seemed to vanish altogether. The phenomenon was marked by neither heat nor scent, only the faintest hiss. Sylvain then proceeded to "grab" the glass with the afflicted hand, but his fingers slipped right through. It was as if it had been cut with the most sharp and precise instrument, leaving the untouched parts unaffected. He then placed what remained of the glass on the table in front of Peter. "That you can touch all you want." There seemed to be a strange sort of satisfaction on his face at this opportunity to make such a rare and astonishing display.  

Peter Clifford

Picking up the glass he quickly raised it to the light. Squinting he continued his gaze to try and understand what had exactly transpired. He held it there for a few minutes. For once in his life truly befuddled and his fave showed it. His mouth catching flies. Slowly he put the glass down. He had no clue how to feel. On one had this was truly awful condition to live with. One that seem supernatural by definition. One of Greek tragedies. On the other hand... if he could somehow harness these powers. No. He needn't think like that. Evos are human. Not playthings for scientists. He knew that. He had seen firsthand... that woman... "That is both remarkable and heartbreaking to see, Sylvain. You have my utmost sympathies. I had no clue. Just thought you wore gloves to seem cool"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Come now, I'm not that vain. You never asked, but the story of having burned it in my youth satisfies the nosier sorts. But thank you for understanding." He explained, seeming to relax a little at the reasonably positive reaction. After taking out another glass to replace the one he madd an example of, he reassumed a more tentative approach. "So... I hope I approached the right person. This sort of thing is in your area of expertise, yes? And if so, I'm sure you have many questions."  

Peter Clifford

The man took a breath. Tackling just how to answer. His eyes darted. His mouth twisted. His arms crossed. "In truth I do not think this is anyone's areas of expertise. No offence meant. Perhaps I'd be your best bet but, even then..." Peter opened his arms offering his most sincerest of faces. "I'm afraid I need to know what happened. From the top. I know it will not be a good conversation but, alas it is needed."  

Sylvain Moresby

"Of course, I understand even ordinary medicine must adapt to personal circumstances... and this goes a step beyond that. As for how it began... I suppose I'd best get it over with." He went on to give a brief account of the accident more than a decade ago where his hand - or rather, a single finger at the time - had been exposed to what effectively ended up being an improptu session of gene therapy. Given that the incident was mostly a result of youthful curiosity and the research in question wasn't officially something he had any clearance to, he was only able to offer incomplete details based on what he had managed to find out later. The lack of exact information was compounded by the fact the entire thing had been essentially kept to himself throughout the years. At the very least he had documented the progression and properties of the ailment diligently enough, and offered to procure such documents in due time. After a lengthy explanation he returned to the heart of the matter.   "With that taken care of... Do you have any immediate thoughts or hypotheses I might be able to correct?"  

Peter Clifford

"Well, I could cut your hand off. Would save you a great deal of trouble later?" He chuckled clearly not serious and wanting to lighten the moment  

Sylvain Moresby

He rolled his eyes at the joke. "Simple and elegant. Just what I'd expect from a professional." His expression soon grew somewhat more serious again. "It wouldn't surprise me if it worked, assuming it's not metastatic... You never know, I suppose. But I'd rather not give up a hand. Nor did I say that I necessarily want to... eliminate this condition altogether."  

Peter Clifford

"Hey, I could try my hand at making you a robotic one. Though no promises" He smirked. "So then what are you actually asking? You damn, Moresby's always so vague. Though I guess that saves you in court doesn't it?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"I suppose that's a handy byproduct, not that I expect any legal trouble between us. There are many more efficient ways to settle disputes, after all." His half-smile made it unclear whether the remark was entirely a joke. "What I'm saying is that I'd prefer to contain, no, control this. It would be a shame not to take advantage of such potential, don't you think? There's no need to try and hide it, I see the way you look at it. You were intimidated at first, but already the curiosity is winning out. Or am I wrong?"  

Peter Clifford

"No you are not. Though this is tricky. Most Evo powers I've seen are not... consuming. This seems like an illness, an ailment, a disease, plague... a... Sorry. By that I mean I need to understand what... ever it is that is consuming you wants to do. Why it seems to want to control or plague your body. Once I find that out then perhaps and I mean it's slim. But, I might be able to understand how to slow or stop it's effects. Now, being able to control them? That's another thing entirely. Even less plausible." Peter stood rubbing the back of his head as he began to leave then turning on his heels to face the young Moresby. "Leave it with me. I'll talk to some others. I'll be in contact."  

Sylvain Moresby

He gave a slow nod, but didn't seem entirely satisfied with the response. "Not so fast. I'm glad you're willing to help, and I'll help you in return... But I want to choose who, if anyone else, learns of this, just as I have the power to refuse any methods I find questionable. You may not be a physician, but you swore to keep it between us." His expression then softened slightly for the following remark. "Besides, I didn't get to ask about your secrets yet."  

Peter Clifford

He sniggered. Shaking his head. "I'm just a man. Not a god. Even I have limits. No one will know your name. Nor anything to do with you. I'll keep my questions and queries tight. Do not worry." Peter then fired the finger gun he has held up and aimed. "Take your shot then. Doubtful anything comes close to the burned hand man"  

Sylvain Moresby

"I would still prefer to have more direct control over what is revealed to who... But very well. I'll trust you with it, though you'll take responsibility if it backfires." He put the glove back on and motioned for Peter to sit back down. "What I wish to learn might not be a single thing like what I revealed, but neither is it necessarily as personal so it should be fine. So then... What other projects have you been working on lately?"  

Peter Clifford

"This old chestnut? Thought you would have forgotten by now. Damn." He sat back down. Visibly clear he wasn't happy.   "Well, the HUD is now in full effect and being on sale. We have the militarised zersions ready also but they to be sold. Of course the Armed forces would benefits extremely but I don't feel right in my bones selling to some imperialists. Yet, what other choices would we have?"  

Sylvain Moresby

He gave a pleased look upon getting some answers. "True, war usually ends up being the first application of new discoveries. I don't particularly like it either, but there's little choice aside of hiding such inventions and hindering progress. It's not the innovator's fault if a concept is misused. After all, most if not all ideas are built on others to begin with." He leaned slightly forward with newfound interest. "But I'm sure that's not all... I'd wager there are more specific cases, too. And I'd gladly familiarize myself with these projects, so I can better help you advance them."  

Peter Clifford

"Then there are the booster boots as Andys called them. Small jet thrusters in the bottom give the user heightened agility and jumping prowess. Small uses as of now. With some being used in industrial environments for transporting goods. Other uses would be for elevators and the sort but of course the next move is transport. But, steering has been the issue. Similarly to hovercrafts."  

Sylvain Moresby

"Electronic and mechanical engineering is all fine and good, it sure has many applications. But I think we both know what the most topical field for both of us likely is, especially after the discussion we just had." He gave a knowing smile and lowered his voice to little more than a whisper. "Evos, Peter. That's what it's about right now. I'm sure you can see why I'd be personally interested, and it would be reassuring to know more about your experience in the field, so to say. Within your discretion, of course."  

Peter Clifford

The man changed visibly in front of Sylvain. His mouth twisted and his body closed off. His eyes darted around the room as though chasing something. When they finally met Sylvains own he could see the rage in Petes eyes.   "I'm no butcher. I'm not going down that path. Yeah, some viscious bastadd could come down here scalpel us both and maybe come up with something but that's all they are. Evil. Evos. Us. We're people. Got no place to treat us any different."  

Sylvain Moresby

Sylvain seemed about to interject at first, but was visibly surprised enough by the continuation that it took him a moment to formulate a response. "I... wasn't aware it hit that close to home. Not that I meant any ill to begin with, but, uh... Yeah." He seemed uncharacteristically taken aback by the outburst, though any particular reason wasn't readily apparent. Still, a hint of curiosity still remained in his eyes as he composed himself. "If you want to elaborate... get some weight off your chest or whatever, be my guest. No pressure though, it's not an easy topic."  

Peter Clifford

Peter sighed. Calming his trembling hand before closing his eyes for a lingering second. When they reopened he spoke normally, "Just isn't right to do that to people. It was bad enough with some of the animals back then"  

Sylvain Moresby

Sylvain also seemed to relax slightly once the atmosphere shifted closer to normal. "Understandable. I could go on about the necessity of calculated risks and whatnot, but you're the one with personal experience. Some lines shouldn't be crossed lightly." He paused for a moment to consider his approach. "Anyway, you implied you're... gifted, too?"  

Peter Clifford

"Maybe. I don't know. Just since the accident. I've been different. Okay? I don't know how to explain. I just see things. Before they happen. Well... not see feel? Like I know somethings up? Fuck knows?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"And here I thought I was the only one with such a personal revelation to make..." He muttered with an inquisitive look. "I doubt you mean mindreading unless you're a damn good liar... Are we talking about premonition or just fast reflexes? Sorry if I'm being pushy, it's just the sort of topic you rarely get to discuss." While the interest was no doubt genuine, the question was in part a diversion from the kick he aimed at Peter's shin under the table as a simple test his supposed foresight.  

Peter Clifford

"Mate I don't fuckin-" Quickly he moved his leg before contact was made. Dragging it backwards and making the man almost fall off his own chair. "Oi, ya little shit. What's that all about"  

Sylvain Moresby

While he was clearly surprised by the reaction, it had at least been a possibility Sylvain was aware of, allowing him to regain his balance without much delay and only a bit of embarrassment. "Don't blame me, I was just curious... I guess you weren't bluffing, but haven't you figured out the specifics yet? You strike me as someone who'd test it from every angle right away, though I suppose the whole thing happened quite recently."  

Peter Clifford

"How am I supposed to test this shit? One of those weird ass obstical courses you see on TV?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"I guess you have a point. Still, I recommend keeping tabs on it. You never know when the information might be useful." He made a meaningful gesture with his afflicted hand to drive the point home. A bit of a smirk then appeared on his face. "So, have you got a fancy nickname and a flashy spandex suit prepared already?"  

Peter Clifford

"You think I'd be like those knobs you've seen on the news? Come on now lad" He laughed shortly before deciding to put his feet up on the expensive wooden table "Nah, some politician would tell me not to do something and that would make me want to do it more. I'd last five seconds"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Who knows? I haven't quite made up my mind as to whether you seem like an idealist yet. Not that it'd mean you're one for vigilantism. Still, I get what you're saying. Anonymity is quite liberating." After smiling at his own statement as if it were some inside joke, he shifted the topic. "Anyway... I guess this is why you want to know more about the accident? To figure out what exactly happened to you, or why?"  

Peter Clifford

Pete raised his palms upwards slightly shrugging. "Aye lad. The more information I get the more I can determine why this happened to me. Then, if I can find out why me I can find out why all evos turn well into evos."  

Sylvain Moresby

"True, I suppose it's safe to say the accident was the cause or at least the catalyst. Still, even if our circumstances were somewhat similar... obviously that's not the case with everyone. Hell, that sort of circumstances didn't even exist a few decades ago, and the first known ones were born at least a century ago. The root cause doesn't seem to be as specific."  

Peter Clifford

"Which is why I need the Moresby records. The surveillance on the labs. Everything you can find that can help me out." Pete bit his lip slightly. "Anything to help find out what was going on"  

Sylvain Moresby

Sylvain spent a moment in silence, clearly the matter wasn't simple. "...You're asking for a lot. Then again, so am I, I suppose. You obviously don't have clearance to most if any of it... Strictly speaking, some of it's classified even to me. And while I'm not saying that has to stop me, much work still remains to be done before I can get to the bottom of it. I'll do what I can, and we keep helping each other. I can get my hands on plenty of useful intel, at any rate."  

Peter Clifford

"It may be alot but it would help you in the long run..." Peter shrugged again and took his feet of the table. Sitting forwards and piercing into Sylvains eyes with his own. "Something went wrong there. Yet, no one will touch why? Suddenly I get these weird ass powers and no one else there is alive. Doesn't that bug you?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"There's a lot about the situation that bugs me, but what you're asking has more to do with the science behind it. And no one quite understands it yet." He briefly paused to sigh in contemplation. "I've promised to help, and I won't go back on my word if you uphold your end of the deal... I'm just saying that I'll have to toe the line carefully or the opportunity might slip past. What I can say is that the levek of secrecy is... somewhat unusual, even as far as research projects go."  

Peter Clifford

"Something is going on here. Honestly? I thought you would know. Or at least have some clue. That fact you don't..." He oaused for a second and sighed. "Is worrying."  

Sylvain Moresby

"Eh, maybe it's because my old man just still thinks of me as the kid who's always too curious and reckless for my own good. Maybe he's not wrong, either." He joked to lighten the mood before giving a more proper answer. "It's not that I have no clue whatsoever, but I'd rather not make unwarranted guesses when it comes to such serious matters. Still, you're not wrong. Most of the time I manage to find out a bit more than I officially should without much issue, but this time it seems I have to struggle for every useful factoid. And that's despite it being my job to clean up the mess."  

Peter Clifford

He grimaced. Not sure really what to say or do now. He took a while and the silence was awkward. "Just, get me what you can. I'll do my best."  

Sylvain Moresby

Sylvain didn't appear to think much of the silence or tension. Then again, his mood rarely seemed to be confined by the general atmosphere for any lengthy period of time. "I will, don't you worry. And I'll hold you responsible if I get fired over this." He said, waving Peter's concerns aside. "Speaking of your best efforts... Is there any plan on where to start?" Once again he implied his meaning by motioning at the gloved hand.  

Peter Clifford

"I'll need you to swing by for some tests and then I'll have to send them off to be analysed."  

Sylvain Moresby

"As long as it's all discreet... And the same goes with the records I'll share, as said. But do you have any immediate questions as to how something works and whatnot? In a way it's relieving to actually talk about it, you know."  

Peter Clifford

"It's just physical touch right?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Mm-hmm. As long as I pay it no mind, at least. But when I focus a bit..." He displayed his hand once again, but while he didn't remove the glove, the same inky black quickly spread to its surface. Not only that, it also extended further down his arm now. "It's just temporary, but you probably get the idea. Assuming that's what you meant?"

[Manipulation, Normal -3 (22/25)]

 

Peter Clifford

"I see... so you can project it out of you like that at will?"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Something like that... Though only by touching something I can't disintegrate. Out of curiosity, I don't suppose you've guessed how that works?"  

Peter Clifford

"Mate, give me a minute at most lad." Peter chuckled a bit. Half smiling at the end and observing the liquid. "Mind if i get, like some tupperware for your blacky goo stuffs? I urgh, think it must reshape the molecules? I... hmm"  

Sylvain Moresby

"Something like that. As far as I can tell, it compresses matter rather than consuming it. As you can verify." He dropped the remnants of the formerly used glass onto the hand, and once it had vanished, motioned at Peter to look closer at the table where bits of a very fine dust could be seen where Sylvain had demonstrated his power. "As for how to contain it... I'm intrigued to find out whether you'll come up with alternatives in time, but diamonds do the trick, I've found, with how compressed they already are. Chemistry paid off, after all." He showed the inside of the glove, making it more apparent that what was evidently diamond dust had indeed been used. "And they say expensive tastes are never practical." All in all, he seemed rather satisfied by resourcefulness in coming up with such a solution.  

Peter Clifford

Peter was silent as Sylvain explained. Taking his time to fully understand and comprehend what exactly he was saying. His face showed his concentration but if Sylvain noticed his eyes widened slightly. He cared. "Just diamonds right? Nothing else you have tried? Okay."  

Sylvain Moresby

He tilted his head in curious contemplation, but didn't mention it. "As far as I know, at least. Though all other materials aren't equal either." In another practical demonstration he quickly brushed the hand against one of his unaffected fingers. Rather than dismemberment, the result seemed more like a chafing mark. "The effect is much slower, as you can see. Something about proteins or other organic macromolecules, if I had to guess. I'm sure you'll have fun figuring it all out."  

Peter Clifford

"Aight okay.... well I won't keep you any longer. I'll call Andy and meet him at the lab"  

Sylvain Moresby

"All right, then. I'll be seeing you soon regarding the tests and our other projects. Do keep in touch if anything comes up." He said with a nod and a calm smile. "Play your part, Peter, and we'll achieve great things together... And thank you."  

Peter Clifford

He stood up swiftly and nodded. Raising his hand to the staff as he turned and left.