[DOHTML]<BR><BR><div style="background-color:#0A0A0A; width:420px; font-size:15px; color:#4F4F4F; padding:5px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius: 30px;"><BR>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
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It was one of those days.<br>
Well, it was one of those nights.
<br><br>
William sat in his loft, a small electric wand in his hand, poking at the brain he'd luckily gotten. It wasn't luck, really. It was the power he had, and he had pulled strings in order to get this brain. It was a human brain, and when he'd gotten it it was already dead, making it useless unless he could figure out a way to hook an AI to it and make a perfect electrical charge to pull it out of its current dead state. It wasn't something he could do easily, but for now he could study the brain and see if it was possible to implant conditioning into a mind that was already formed.
<br><br>
After all, bodyguards could not be trusted, and William wanted to have his Harbingers soon. They would be the size of a large human male, built to protect him no matter what. No AI without the feeling that human minds developed could work correctly for the Harbinger concept.
<br><br>
Another shock and the brain twitched. William watched carefully. Where he shocked the brain he stuck a small metal pin in, and put a wave of electricity to the pin. As expected, the pin increased the electric shock, making the brain spring to life for a moment.
<br><br>
Will leaned back, “Alright, Friday. I'm getting sick of you not doing what I want.” He turned up the electric shock and put it to the pin, causing smoke as the tip of the wand touched the pin's metal barb. The jump of brain matter was perfect. The wrinkles of the brain's outer pariental lobe twitched pleasingly. Will gave a small smile, about to perform the shock again when;
<br><br>
“God dammit, I knew this was happening!” A crash and some more shouts, and Will sighed. Why did he decide to live in a loft where he could hear his neighbors screeching? Why did he want to be near the cattle that called themselves human? Why did he decide not to live in the Syndicate Tower? It was safer, quieter, cleaner, and it had all the equipment he needed at all times. What made him want to live here?
<br><br>
By the sounds coming from below, William concluded that the wife of his neighbor had just realized that her husband was cheating on her. It seemed she discovered this through walking in with him and one of his many lady-friends. Such stupid creatures. How could she not know something so obvious?
<br><br>
“Well, that's our cue, Friday. I'm off for the night. I will not be able to get anything done with these people. Why can't they all be like you?”
<br><br>
Friday the brain sat there with no answer.
<br><br>
“Right, I forgot. Give them time and they will be like you.” He put the dead mind back into her liquid bath, and into the small fridge he had for things like this. Useless, everything was. More shouts from below and William's idea of going out cemented itself.
<br><br>
He rolled down his sleeves, buttoning them at the cuffs. He wore a simple suit with no tie, a simple powder blue shirt under. His shoes were sneakers, as he had left his dress shoes at the Syndicate. It annoyed him, but he knew that the shoe stores were closed by now and he couldn't do anything about it. Before he left, he shrugged on his protective coat, as his paranoid streak could not be silenced without it. Away he went.
<br><br>
The night life in New York was just as busy as the day life. It was busy and loud, lights flashed and obscured the colors and shapes of things. It was lightly raining, making William pull his collar so it covered his neck. The motion was automatic, far away. He hated the rain. It made his use of his technopathy beclouded, and he felt out-of-touch without the constant stream of information that his brain picked up from the electronics surrounding him. His mouth tightened in frustration. Others around him, those that were cattle, continued to push through each other, trying to get what little cover they could find from the storm. A few people still stood outside clubs, trying to get in. Their want for a place to entertain them was below him. There wasn't a place that William would like to be less than a club.
<br><br>
A quiet and half-empty bar, on the other hand, that was a different story.
<br><br>
He really didn't know what made him go in, as William was no drinker or smoker. He usually distested places like the one he found himself in now, but he didn't leave. Perhaps it was the rain, which was falling in heavy downfalls now, or perhaps it was because something about the idea of alcohol seemed to sound appealing to his head, now consumed in a headache from something. He wasn't expecting anything special for tonight, he just wanted to get out of the loft until things settled down. William knew that his neighbors could be a phonecall from being shot down by a sniper, but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of dying. He wanted them to suffer in their meaningless existences, not knowing they could be anything, forever cattle. Death would be too much of a blessing for them.
<br><br>
Slowly and reluctantly, William shed his coat from his thin shoulders and sat at a bar stool, wishing he'd at least have had the foresight to bring a pen and notebook.
<br>
“What do you want?”
<br>
William instantly hated the man behind the bar, and shrugged, “Your best scotch, sir.” He'd only had scotch around Viktor, and even then he'd hated it. He wasn't sure what else to order. The small glass came, with a puddle of caramel-colored liquid in the bottom. William took a drink.
<br><br>
It was awful. It tasted like paint thinner and it made the Whisperer cough and choke. It was like poison, stinging all the way down his throat. He couldn't believe he drank something like that. Why someone would want to drink something so awful regularly.
<br><br>
He heard a faint laugh, and he looked over to see where it was coming from. Was someone laughing at him?

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| tagged:
Paul | words:
1050 | outfit:
here | notes:
none |<br>
credit:
Potato @ Caution2.0
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<tr><td><div style="text-align:center; font-family:Satisfy; font-style:italic; font-size:30px; color:#94611C; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; line-height:50%;"><b>I Love You So, That's What You'll Say.</b></div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:Permanent Marker; font-size:11px; color:#D1D1F6; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:3px; line-height:190%;">you'll tell me baby, baby, please don't go away.</div></td></tr>

<TR><TD><div style="background-color: black; opacity:0.5;
filter:alpha(opacity=80); -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; width:500px;height:190px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: baumans; font-size: 11px; color: gray">

Sway's business always died down when it came to late nights. Not that Paul minded, the big rush of customers had happened earlier, the younger crowd looking to get a slight buzz before they ran off to dance in clubs, while the older crowd had come in to socialize with a few cocktails. It had seemed like only moments ago Sway had been full of life, hardly able to contain all of the voices and bodies within; but once it hit nine almost like a herd the younger crowd began to file out one by one, giving Paul a chance to breathe. Busy nights always meant that the regulars would come in, and for Paul that meant a row of women at the bar demanding his attention, even as he worked on drinks for other women. This, of course, was what made him so valuable to his employers, even if they didn't realize that Paul's magnetism was a direct result of his abilities, for they had no idea he was even a super. He could draw in a crowd even if it was fleeting, and had a consistent number of returning patrons, some having even followed him from the previous bar he'd worked in.

<p>And his abilities didn't work on just women, but Paul hadn't been about to try and draw both sexes, dealing with the whole bar wasn't too appealing, especially when some of the patrons were kind enough to be smoking. Oh how Paul hated when smokers entered the bar. Already a small headache attempted to form, but he was lucky enough to have them seated in a corner away from the bar. He had made a request before he started working at Sway that they would have a smoking section for guests who wanted to smoke situated as far away from the bar as they could. He hated the noxious fumes, they smelled bad and interfered with his abilities, but thankfully at the moment there was a small number of them, the bulk of the smoker crowd having left with the head to go clubbing. This was a major relief for the twenty-nine year old, his mental state improving vastly once they had exited.

<p>Why anyone would feel the need to inhale anything but air into their lungs was beyond Paul. Especially when smoking had so many health problems associated with it. It annoyed the brunet haired man to no end that even his own twin brother had taken up the habit, although his younger brother was smart enough not to show his nasty habit when he was around. Perhaps Peter had learned his lesson after the first few times Paul had stolen his entire pack of cigarettes and flushed the contents down the toilet. He didn't lecture his twin, that wasn't Paul's style, and he knew very well that Peter was attuned to how much he disliked it.

<p>Glancing around the half empty bar Paul debated on whether or not he wanted to stay an extra hour or so, or if he wanted to simple leave now. Odds were the bulk of the night crowd had come and gone and Sway wouldn't really need him. And having been there since two in the afternoon, Paul's desire to stay wasn't exactly very high. Especially when the whole time he served delicious drinks to others and all he was allowed to have was a coke at best. Paul wasn't an alcoholic, this would have been the worst possible job for him if that were the case, but after long shifts he couldn't help but want to have at least a single drink before heading off into the night. The choice was obvious then, Paul was going to get off the clock now. Grabbing his jacket Paul let the owner of Sway know that he was heading out, but that he'd be getting a drink before he left. He didn't need his boss thinking he was drink while still on the job.

<p>Now finding himself on the other side of the bar, Paul sat his jacket down on the stool next to him before ordering a yuengling lager. Part of him was tempted to order one of their more fancy mixed drinks, but considering the fact that he wouldn't be making it himself made the idea less appealing. He was particular when it came to his mixed drinks, and while the man on staff wasn't bad, Paul knew that the fellow sometimes put too much of one ingredient or another, making the drink taste off to him. "Better to go with beer." Paul mentally reassured himself as he waited, momentarily glancing over as another man joined him at the bar. Paul had a fairly good memory when it came to returning patrons of the bar, but he couldn't quite place the man. He had to have been new, that type of facial structure was not something Paul would have forgotten. The man wore a suit, albeit a plain one, with sneakers and ordered scotch. Paul had to do his best not to wrinkle his nose. He had never been a fan of scotch, or whiskey for that matter, and he had no idea how anyone actually drank them. He was better off drinking gasoline in Paul's opinion.

<p>Shortly after the man placed his order they both received their drinks, Paul finding himself thankful that he'd received one of the colder glasses he had placed in the freezer earlier. The first taste was perfect, and Paul was lucky enough to have swallowed it before the other man sitting at the bar had decided to choke a bit after drinking the scotch. Paul couldn't help the small snicker that escaped him, as that would have been his own reaction had he drank the foul liquid, and Paul had seen the same reaction from men who had though they were cool ordering the drink before they actually tried it. "Drink scotch often?" Paul asked honestly, a small smile on his face as the man looked over. "I can't say the taste will get any better the more you drink it." He glanced at the man's glass before returning his blue eyes to the stranger's once again. "Scotch is definitely not the starter drink you wanna go with." Paul commented lastly, the thought that another man might not care to hear his opinion on drinks not even crossing his mind. He was still in bartender mode, and Paul was a talkative kind of guy. How lucky this man was to sit near him...

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[dohtml]<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Permanent Marker' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><table><tr><td><div style=" -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 15px 15px;background-image: url(http://onlyhdwallpapers.com/wallpaper/floor_wood_wall_textures_desktop_1920x1200_wallpaper-72400.jpg); width:515px;height:23px;border: 2px brown outset; text-align:justify; overflow: auto; font-family:Permanent Marker; font-size:13px; color: black"><center>Tagged Will!! Outfit This! Words 1,090 Notes Sorry for the wait x.x
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[DOHTML]<BR><BR><div style="background-color:#0A0A0A; width:420px; font-size:15px; color:#4F4F4F; padding:5px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius: 30px;"><BR>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
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<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 380; height: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5; border: 2px #1A1A1A dotted; FONT-FAMILY: GEORGIA; overflow: auto; FONT-SIZE: 9; COLOR: #7A7A7A; TEXT-ALIGN: JUSTIFY; padding: 2 2 2 2px;">

William looked toward the man who laughed. With a quick look-over and he had information. The man was in his late twenties to early thirties. William had seen him getting out from behind the counter when he'd come in, so that meant that the man had just gotten off work, probably a bartender by the way he looked. Also, he seemed to be popular. He had the look of someone that was very comfortable with themselves- something that usually meant popularity. William had witnessed the swarm of people that had now dissipated into the half-quiet bar he now sat in, a curious development, but again, the popular ones always seemed to have a magnetic quality about them that made them irresistible to the opposite sex.
<br><br>
His throat still burned. Viktor could drink the liquid in a dignified manner, sipping at it without coughing like William now did. He wasn't sure how his friend did it, but he figured that it was something that people got used to. William wasn't sure if he wanted to get used to something so foul. His mouth felt charred, and he was perturbed that he'd been laughed at, still, something about th man made him forgive him. It was strange for someone like him; always remembering things and thus not being able to easily "forgive and forget".
<br><br>
But something about the tone in his voice and the way he gestured while he talked made William's guards lower the slightest bit. He instantly thought it was because of the drink. Perhaps not drunk or "buzzed" as people called it, but perhaps a placebo effect had settled in his brain, making it less careful around this man.
<br><br>
He laughed at himself, putting on a smirk. "Well, it's the only drink I know. A friend of mine has had me drink it a few times." He lifted the glass, swirling the amber liquid around the crystalline glass, the ice clinking against the sides was like a lost song.
<br><br>
William smiled again, "Thanks, though. I'll keep that in mind next time. I can't hold a drink for the sake of my life, unfortunately."
<br><br>
Unfortunately. It was unfortunate because William wanted to know the sweet escape into nothingness, only a faint vibration buzzing the back of his eyes, forgetting the thoughts that plagued him like locust to the fields of grain. Billowing in a soft wind until the savage creatures would come and destroy what had been beautiful. Something so small and nasty destroying something beautiful. It was the kind of refreshing outtake on life that William needed. William, who hated everything about people in general.
<br><br>
"By-the-by, I'm William Leo. I live a few blocks away," He smiled, putting his scotch glass down with a clank. "What's your name?"

</DIV>
| tagged:
Paul | words:
459 | outfit:
here | notes:
none |<br>
credit:
Potato @ Caution2.0
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<tr><td><div style="text-align:center; font-family:Satisfy; font-style:italic; font-size:30px; color:#94611C; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; line-height:50%;"><b>I Love You So, That's What You'll Say.</b></div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:Permanent Marker; font-size:11px; color:#D1D1F6; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:3px; line-height:190%;">you'll tell me baby, baby, please don't go away.</div></td></tr>

<TR><TD><div style="background-color: black; opacity:0.5;
filter:alpha(opacity=80); -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; width:500px;height:190px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: baumans; font-size: 11px; color: gray">

Paul's smile grew a bit more as the man sitting near him laughed at himself. Well at least this guy was in a somewhat good mood, not that bad moods ever lasted for any long period of time. Paul tended to have the opposite effect of a mood killer, he brought the good times so to speak. And this finely dressed man sitting next to him was getting the full affect of Paul winding down after work. "A friend of yours? Did he follow that with having you try a habanero pepper?" Paul joked lightly before taking another drink of his beer. Ah there was nothing quite like a cold one after work, and it was even harder for him to resist when he was surrounded by beer constantly while on the job. It was some sort of blessing that he wasn't a raging alcoholic. But then again Paul didn't exactly need alcohol constantly to have a good time.

<p>"We're going to have to broaden your horizons. There are some good drinks out there that don't taste like you're drinking gasoline." Paul smirked slightly, his eyes glancing to the glass of golden liquid the man held. "Poor tolerance? Yeah we'll have to fix that too." It didn't matter to Paul that he had just met this man, already in his mind the stranger would be seeing him again, and Paul would help him to become a "better drinker". "You should definitely come in when I'm working, I'd start you off right." This friendliness was his nature. Paul would much rather make friends with people that he didn't know than be standoffish with strangers. And so far this man had done nothing to turn away Paul's socialness, so the brunet bartender was only encouraged to continue. But then again, who could turn down Paul's company, especially when his pheromones had yet to fully dissipate from his skin and clothing.

<p>"I'm Paul Allen." With a grin Paul held out his hand to shake William's. "I'm surprised I don't see you more often since you're so close. But I guess since you can't hold your liquor you wouldn't want to be here all of the time." Paul laughed slightly. "Just get off of work?" He asked, taking note once again of what William was wearing. Paul wasn't the suit wearing type, and barring important events, he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to wear them outside of it being mandatory for their job. The twenty-nine year old bar tender would have never imagined what William did for a living. "You picked a good time if you wanted to miss the crowd." Paul commented, moving to take another drink. "You should try a beer. I promise it won't get you too drunk...and if it puts you over your limit I'll walk you home myself." Paul "subtly" suggested. He wasn't exactly the best person to be around when you wanted to be sober, now was he?

<p>"Come on, it'll wash the taste of that out of your mouth." He smiled. Who could possibly say no to that face?

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[DOHTML]<BR><BR><div style="background-color:#0A0A0A; width:420px; font-size:15px; color:#4F4F4F; padding:5px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius: 30px;"><BR>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
<BR>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 380; height: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5; border: 2px #1A1A1A dotted; FONT-FAMILY: GEORGIA; overflow: auto; FONT-SIZE: 9; COLOR: #7A7A7A; TEXT-ALIGN: JUSTIFY; padding: 2 2 2 2px;">


What was going on? William's body began to feel different. Though he still had control over his body, internally his guards began to shift and lower. The Syndicate leader looked at the other man, smiling and laughing, giving off an aura that was infectious. William wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he liked it. He rarely got to feel complaisant around strangers, or around anyone for that matter. He was known to be a loner around the Syndicate, which was one of his problems when it came to having to deal with people. He did what he could, and he did it well. There was hardly ever anything that William couldn't do well.
<BR><BR>
Except drinking, probably. Here he was, trying to drink something that made his entire body recoil with disgust, making himself a fool, but enjoying himself nonetheless. He laughed with the jokes the other man threw at him, stretching his long body out. "He seems like he would, doesn't he?" William chuckled, thinking of Viktor and the way the man would poke fun at William's sensitivity to drinking and abhorrence of animals. It was always interesting around Viktor, because he had a mind much like William, and that's what made their relationship so great.
<BR><BR>
"Not that I don't enjoy drinking cleaning supplies, but I think you're just about right. Maybe I'll start with something a little more agreeable to my mouth. Next time I'll be sure to do that. I must say, though, it seemed that you were the main attraction here. You've got something of a magnetic personality, don't you?" Will smirked at this, resting his elbows on the tabletop. He watched the other man, not in his usual manner, calculating and harsh, but in a more open and carefree style. He was hyper-aware of this, though but he couldn't stop it. Was this really a placebo effect, or something more about the bartender that he hadn't picked up on?
<BR><BR>
Paul Allen. William's slender hand reached out to shake Paul's offered palm, nodding. "I usually don't come drinking. I felt like I needed to tonight. I've been working really hard lately, and I can't seem to get anything working right." He gave a sigh, reaching out to grab his discarded drink by its rim. He gave it a few swirls and stopped himself from trying to drink it again before putting it back down.
<BR><BR>
"No, I didn't just get off wor-" William paused, he'd lost so much of his secretive nature in just a few moments, "Well, you could say that. I work from home a lot. I just wear stuff like this because I have to keep myself structured or I'll lose my mind." He smirked. This was true. William had to keep himself scheduled at least a little bit so the days he was asleep and the nights he was awake didn't kill his drive. Not that it could die, his mind was too fast and too advanced to take notice of things like depression.
<BR><BR>
Again, he looked back at Paul, "I'll take you up on that beer. Though I must admit, I'm not very well-learned in the ways of alcohol. You'll have to walk me through it, if you don't mind."


</DIV>
| tagged:
Paul | words:
538 | outfit:
here | notes:
I have a feeling this will be hilarious. |<br>
credit:
Potato @ Caution2.0
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<tr><td><div style="text-align:center; font-family:Satisfy; font-style:italic; font-size:30px; color:#94611C; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; line-height:50%;"><b>I Love You So, That's What You'll Say.</b></div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:Permanent Marker; font-size:11px; color:#D1D1F6; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:3px; line-height:190%;">you'll tell me baby, baby, please don't go away.</div></td></tr>

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Magnetic personality, huh? "Yeah, something like that." Paul chuckled, both in response to William's cleaning supplies comment as well as how spot on the man was without even realizing it. Most people just figured Paul had one of those personalities that attracted other people, and maybe he really did, but it was much more than his personality that drew the crowds. His friendly and outgoing personality seemed to match perfectly with the abilities he was gifted as a super; and sometimes Paul wondered if his powers had been influenced by his personality, or if his personality had been a direct result of the abilities he'd been born with. But the long haired bartender never put much thought into it for long. He doubted he'd ever have an answer for it, and even if he did where would it really get him? "I've been told I'm pretty good company." He grinned, giving Will a wink.

<p>"Sounds like a good enough reason to come out drinking to me." Paul nodded at William's words. "I'm sure whatever it is, you'll get it. Maybe you just need a little break to step back from it and to get a new view?" He said in a reassuring tone, thinking how much he sounded like he was speaking to his twin brother. And after hearing William's comment about being structured only caused Paul to grin even more. "You sound like my brother. He has to have his hair cut just right or it bothers him to no end." Paul laughed slightly. That reminded him, he needed to pay Peter a littler visit soon, to check in and make sure his bother wasn't losing his mind over the length of his hair...and maybe he'd get Peter to help him try out a new hairstyle himself...

<p>"Ah! Now that's what I wanted to hear!" The brunet bartender grinned when William finally conceded to having a beer. "You're in good hands, I promise." Paul patted William's shoulder assuredly before motioning for the on duty bartender to come over. "He'll have what I'm having, and bring one of the frozen mugs out for him too." There was nothing like good cold beer in a frozen glass, and Paul was going to make sure William enjoyed this. "You're about to have a Yuengling lager, one of the best tasting beers on the east coast." Paul grinned before taking another gulp of his own drink. He'd never really encourage someone to drink something unless he'd endorse it himself, and this was definitely one of the better beers to drink.

<p>"Working on something big?" Paul couldn't help but ask curiously to kill time while they waited a few more seconds for the bartender to return with William's new drink.

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[DOHTML]<BR><BR><div style="background-color:#0A0A0A; width:420px; font-size:15px; color:#4F4F4F; padding:5px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius: 30px;"><BR>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
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William tried to picture the brother of this man that Paul described. In his mind's eye he saw a smaller man, a quieter man who looked vaguely like Paul. His lips were thin, but his smile was big as William saw it. Timid smile, the imaginary person had. Still good-looking, though not really understanding that he was attractive. William nodded to himself, his eyes closed.
<P>
"It must have been different, growing up with someone so opposite to you. He sounds nothing like you, if I may make such an assumption."
<P>
I'm sure whatever it is, you'll get it. Maybe you just need a little break to step back from it and to get a new view?<BR>
It sounded like something that William would never do. He'd been working on the harbingers for the longest time now, but nothing seemed to be working, because of this, nothing got done. This frustrated him and ended up making him tired and agitated, which led to him building more wockets and doing equations that didn't work out.
<P>
Sometimes, he needed to stop for a moment. Stop for a moment and take a little time. Stop for a moment and look inside this mind he had. He tried to control it, but even he didn't know quite what was there inside it. It was as if his brain couldn't control itself, and just sped up the more William tried to relax.
<P>
But it wasn't like that now. William was shocked it was happening. It was strange, like everything had slowed down and his mind wasn't going as fast a bullet for ever train of thought he had. William bit the inisde of his lip. It took convincing that this amazing that he was still alive. It took convincing that he wasn't dreaming. That this state that he was in with this man, Paul wasn't something happening in his mind because his brain wasn't furious with thoughts and worries.
<P>
The drink was plopped before William before he could answer the question. William looked at it for a brief moment, unsure what he was going to do with himself after, but with a quick inhale of breath, her took a large drink for the frosty drink. It was much sweeter than the scotch had been, pleasant, really. The flavor paired with the carbonation made his mouth tingle. It wasn't bad at all, especially after something so vile as his previous drink had been. He swallowed, and a taste similar to bread was distinct on his tongue. He smilled, nodding in approval to his new-found drinking partner. "It's good." he confirmed, smiling. Imagine, him smiling about a drink! Something was strange about this man, or the liquid in his mind, or both of them.
<P>
"And yes. I'm working on something very big. I need a bodyguard, but I haven't seemed to find one yet so I'm-" he cut off, shaking his head, "I'm trying to find one suitable. What about you, what are you doing with your life right now?"


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| tagged:
Paul | words:
502 | outfit:
here | notes:
DRINKDRINKDRINK |<br>
credit:
Potato @ Caution2.0
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"Nah...Well we aren't really complete opposites." Paul gave a small laugh. In truth he had never put too much thought into the fact that he and his brother were so different. Sure every now and then it was clear that their opinions were at the opposite ends of the spectrum, but that had never caused much strife between them. At least in Paul's mind it hadn't. "Besides, without him I probably wouldn't have made it through school so easily." Paul admitted. It would have been a lie to say Peter wasn't the main reason Paul hadn't ended up being held back in school. He was never a fan of doing homework or learning things he knew he would never need again. His mind had been on other things. Hell his mind still revolved mostly around other things. Peter was the brains, Paul was the personality, it was as simple as that.

<p>The moment William's drink arrived the grin on Paul's face began to slowly grow. He couldn't wait for the nicely dressed man to have his first taste. He couldn't wait to hear the verdict on what he thought of the beer. It was a part of Paul's satisfaction when it came to this job. He loved getting patrons to try things, because more often than not it confirmed his ability to be able to tell what a customer liked. He may not have always gotten it right, but he was right well more often than he was wrong. With eyes filled with curiosity and a small bit of excitement he watched the man take his first drink of it. A nod of approval soon came and Paul's grin soon broke into a full blown smile. "Glad you like it, it's one of my favorite kinds of beer." Another satisfied customer, look even William was smiling and pleased with the drink.

<p>"Must be important. Guys like you and Peter are always working on the more important things." Paul gave a small nod before running a hand through his hair. "Me? Well I'm living the high life of a bartender." He joked, knowing that he didn't exactly have a job that did much for society except help people unwind. "I'm good with people, I draw crowds, and I like mixing drinks. Although sometimes I'd like to think I double as a therapist." Paul only half joked that time. Some people would be amazed at the stories some of the patrons told him about their lives on the slower nights when the crowds were elsewhere. Give a person some alcohol and an ear to listen and you could get to those really deep emotions. And from there Paul liked to boost people up. If they didn't leave feeling at least a little better or with a new outlook, Paul didn't think he did his job right.

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[DOHTML]<BR><BR><div style="background-color:#0A0A0A; width:420px; font-size:15px; color:#4F4F4F; padding:5px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius: 30px;"><BR>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
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School. School had been easy for William. It had been like a game he played, seeing the tutors that helped he and Viktor through their schoolings, making their lives miserable. It was something they still bonded over, as many things that had happened in their shared childhoods. William had been cruel to the teachers, always outdoing them, knowing things to a deeper extent and just understanding better than they would ever hope to be. It was when he was ten that he entered the college level, though he could have been in it earlier. Yes. School hadn't been hard at all, especially for the special kids in the Syndicate.
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The beer's sweetness wore off quickly, and soon was replaced by the bitterness it would regularly have if not compared to the terrible scotch that he'd had before. Still, it was good, and something about it made his brain feel fuzzy and calm. Was it the beer? Usually alchohol didn't effect William so quickly. He was thin, so he knew that it would effect him sooner than others, but this didn't seem right. What was going on? It was a question that suddenly clicked in his mind as he looked over at his companion. Paul. Paul was the reason that William was feeling this way. He was a super. His powers had something to do with why William was "loosening up" so easily. That meant this man was very dangerous. Not because he posed a threat, he didn't, but what William could accidentally say around this man was a different story.
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Still, William liked Paul. He liked a lot about him, and something about him was very attractive to the Syndicate member. He wasn't sure if these things were because of the man's power, or not, either way, William adjusted his seat and took another drink, listening to Paul intently.
<P>
Important things were always what William was stuck with. "Unfortunately, you're right. I am always given jobs that are important. Vitally so. Sometimes I wish what I did wasn't so intense, you know?" William couldn't help the words tumbling out. He was aware that the other man had powers, but was that the only reason that he was confiding in him? William took another drink, the cold glass feeling refreshing against his lips.
<P>
"My sister is a bartender..." William said suddenly. "She's in another city, though. I don't get much interaction with her. Then again, we don't exactly get along very well. Probably night and day with you and your brother, you talk about him fondly."



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| tagged:
Paul | words:
425 | outfit:
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strange times for william |<br>
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<tr><td><div style="text-align:center; font-family:Satisfy; font-style:italic; font-size:30px; color:#94611C; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; line-height:50%;"><b>I Love You So, That's What You'll Say.</b></div>
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This was what Paul loved about his job, well other than the obvious of him getting to meet plenty of women to spend time with, it was the getting people to relax and get things off of their shoulders that Paul loved the most. Granted most of the time he couldn't do that with the larger crowds, odds were he had twenty or more people vying for his attention and something to drink at those times. But when things were slower, or when he was off, then he had a real chance at moments like these. Sometimes people needed more than just drinks or a good time, sometimes people needed to get away from hectic lives for a moment and get all of that pent up stress out of their system.

<p>Paul might not have been an empath or a telepath, but he figured he was good enough with reading people. Not that he was right all of the time, but from what he guessed he had a pretty good track record. This guy was coming off a lot like Peter, which made it all the easier for Paul to understand where he was coming from. And if William was as much like Peter as he guessed he was, Will had a lot of things that he kept to himself that piled up until he burned out and had to restart. Which made Paul want to get William to have a good time all the more. The stiff smart guys always seemed to need help in this area, and who better to help than Paul?

<p>"Sounds like you need breaks more often my friend." Paul grinned at William before having another sip of his now almost empty beer. "Everybody's gotta have down time, else you'll end up burning yourself out. And that'd be worse than takin' a little break, right?" Paul asked with a smile. A day or two away would probably do Will some good it seemed. Hell even a few hours would probably do this guy some real good. It was better than him continuing working and burning himself out, anyway. "I'll haveta give you my number so we can do this more often." Lucky William, there had been a good number of girls hoping to get those digits earlier.

<p>By now Paul was quite used to having people tell him things about their life, and so the bartender wasn't quite surprised at Williams almost random reveal about his sister. Seemed William had just made the connection in his mind about Paul's job and his own sister's job. "That's a shame, sometimes family can be all you have in the world." Paul almost frowned, that was until his fondness for his brother halted that. "Pete's my best friend," Paul smiled. To him it didn't matter that his brother didn't have powers, in fact in Paul's mind Peter was the better of the two of them. Peter would go on to do meaningful things in the world without the use and abuse of powers. Peter's work would immortalize him, while he...he would fade into obscurity. "I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for him." Paul smiled.

<p>"So, wanna go another round?" A grin soon replaced the smile on his lips as he motioned for the bartender on duty to bring him another one. "Sounds like you could use some more time away from whatever the major thing you're working on is."
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<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; border: 2px #474747 solid;"></div>
<div style="background-color:#474747; width:384px; font-size:17px; font-family: mv boli; color:#B3B3B3; padding:10px; line-height:100%; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius:20px; text-align: center;">;;they call me Saint, the basket case</div>
<DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 400; LINE-HEIGHT: 95%; FONT-FAMILY: verdana; COLOR: 817679; LETTER-SPACING: 0; text-transform:uppercase;
FONT-SIZE: 8; TEXT-ALIGN: CENTER;">the rule of thumb you have to break</DIV>
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It was strange for William to have a moment like this. He was the type to stay in his apartment, never leaving even for food. Sometimes, though, he got the need to leave. Even when times like that happened, though, he never had moments where he would make a connection with someone. It was odd for him, that he would open up like this, even with the other man being a super of origins unknown, he didn't understand why he felt so comfortable. It was as if every breath he took just made him realize this more, and there was nothing that he could do to stop himself. Not that he wanted to, there was something appealing about the other man that made William question other things. Was the man's brother a super as well? What kind of supers were they? William thought about the Syndicate, and how well someone like Paul could fit in. There had been other supers that had been friendly enough in the Syndicate before. It was something not unheard of for someone to be friendly in the organization. Plus it came with great benefits. Some people didn't see that, unfortunately. With the Syndicate your family became very safe, and the pay wasn't bad, either. Viktor and William made sure that their subordinates had reason to stay, and plenty of reason never to go.
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"I seem to always burn myself out," William laughed, taking another drink and finishing his beer off. "Always finding myself sick or weak for one reason or another. I should really figure out a schedule." William's eye flickered around, searching for any person that would eavesdrop. There was a woman looking over at them every now and again, but her intentions were not suspicious. William figured she was looking over at Paul for reasons that were clear; he was a good-looking man. He came back to rest one Paul. Best friends. William could barely believe his own thoughts on his sister, once a very important part of his life, now a bartender like Paul, William barely checked in on her, but sent money to her every other month for the sake of keeping their relationship dead. The last thing he needed was for her to come begging to him for money. He tried to imagine a world in which they were as close as they were when they were young, but that image couldn't be imagined; it was too far-fetched. It was too strange a picture.
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"I'll give you my number, too. You can call me if you're ever in trouble. I have some pull in this city." That was perhaps too much information, but William didn't care at this point. He was enjoying his time with the other man, and nowadays he rarely found himself enjoying anything. It was something to be embraced. He pulled a scarp of paper and a pen from his pocket, half of a highly complicated and advanced equation was on it. William didn't care, and jotted down his personal cell phone on it, handing it to the other man.
<P>
"Another round? Sure. Okay, I'm game." William smiled, nodding in response. "You're sure you don't need to be anywhere?"


</DIV>
| tagged:
Paul | words:
532 | outfit:
here | notes:
scorin' william |<br>
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