AERIK AWAKES

*A stirring... in a dark room, a suite for the rich and noble, a figure blinks himself into consciousness. The chamber itself is dusty, with cobwebs in the corners and fabrics unbleached by a sun that hasn't been allowed to reach within the confines of this place in almost two years. Silent, tomb-like, still as the prone form on the bed, alone. It takes some time for that figure, a tall, willowy male of uncommon and inhuman beauty, to grasp his situation. His limbs feel heavy from disuse, making it hard to move. All he can really accomplish right now is that blinking, an effort to clear away his own mental cobwebs and dust. He recognizes the suite, he knows where he is, but so much else is unclear to him. His limbs... carefully using his own massive telepathy, he navigates his body internally, notes the deteriorizaton of tissue and muscle... atrophy... and sets about to correct it before he bothers trying motion again. Electrical impulses zap gently down his form, creating mild spasms and stimulations. It takes him about twenty minutes to accomplish what most struggle for in months' time... his body is restored, moveable, malleable once again. His own personal brand of physical therapy. Soon after he tests them again, and finds to his satisfaction that he is capable of sitting up.*

*With the kick-start to his own psionics, he lets his mind meander outwards, calling for the one person he knows by logic must be around, but who's scent is so faded as to be non-existent. Gingerly, quitely, he sends a mental query... *() Nicholas? ....Nicholas.... () *There is no answer. Frowning delicately, the man tries a new tack and follows the link to what should be its end; he travels his mind directly over it and... finds nothing. Confusion grips the Eshva heart. Nothing? That should not be. Fear lurks in his chest, too. He held a link with Nicholas Laughton, a very intense, firm, deep link. He should be able to sense Nicky anywhere. Then he remembers --- He had severed the link at Nicky's request... how long ago now? Taking in the condition of the room, again he frowns. It has been some time by the look of it. No servant has stepped over the threshhold in a very long while, no servant has cleaned. The creature named Aerik Winters alters his position, sitting now in the middle of the bed he'd shared with his beloved and tucks his legs beneath him, concentrating, shoving through the haze and fog of a memory that never grasped personal images very well, ever. He struggles to recall ---*

*They'd had a fight... had they? Yes, they had many of those. But this time, it had ended in Aerik learning the truth about his past, that he'd killed his own mother, and he trying to teach Nicky how to channel powers through their link, so he could protect himself. It had gone badly and ended with Nicholas needing to be severed from the link, the recourser dropped and made dead, Aerik left utterly alone. /Utterly/ alone with his horrific needs, wanting and slowly dying and... a violent pause. Where /were/ his needs? Aerik blinks again, several times, looking down on his body in shock, uncertainty, mass confusion. He had none. He had /no needs/. That battering, blazing, unignorable, heated force that had infiltrated and controled every aspect of his existence for the past --how long? A lifetime, he thinks. Aerik shakes his head physically, grimacing as he sorts through things*

*No scent... not even vanished traits of it. Aerik eventually stands, his old grace not quite with him yet, but that didn't matter at the moment, for no one was there to witness him in this, his less-than-coordinated hour. He stops his path before the largest of the chiffarobes, the one Nicholas would have occupied, /did/ occupy, and opens it slowly as if afraid to see... nothing. It was empty, no sign nor trace of anything. No errant ribbon, no lost kerchief, nothing. No scent. Trembling, the telepath steps back, eyes wider than usual and brows furrowed, perplexity written on his lovely face. A few other checks... bathroom, adjoining suite where the fireplace lay cold and dead, the drawers. Always, the same. After a long time and thorough check, Aerik retires to the bed once more, sits atop it indian-style and goes within himself. He's decided to also start cataloging his links, something very important. As he allows his mind to rifle through them and check their status, much like a file scan performed by a computer, he ruminates on the problem at hand. What had happened?*

*Long deliberation fills the silent hours... distantly, Aerik notes when a link is no longer accessible, hence, the one on the other end is dead... and the silent psychokinetic shuffles through more the one theory, cross-referencing, checking facts against facts, weeding out the ridiculous. And as a great detective once stated, Eliminate the impossible and whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the answer. In the end, Aerik decides there /was/ a Nicholas Laughton. Aerik had met him twice, had recorded the scent and those strange, eerie eyes which had fascinated him so, that uncanny ability Nicky had to decipher Aerik's meaning and intent without hearing Aerik speak, the gentile and gentlemanly nobleman he appeared to be, all this and more, was true. Did happen, and eventually carried over into the Great Illusion that had effected all Aerik came in contact with ever since that day, whichever it actually was, where Aerik's subconscious refused to be a slave to his needs and threw him into a coma. Was that it? He thinks so; Nicholas had indeed sought him out and had tried to recruit Aerik for his pursuits, but when the very real /needs/ of Aerik became too much for his pride to bear, he was made to hibernate for his dominate subconscious to 'fix' the problem. Which, apparently, it did. Then what was Nicholas, his lover? A distraction, perhaps. And also a means for his subconscious to fill in the conscious as to what was occuring... a face and scent and solidarity, someone to turn to during this time, someone to confide in, someone to help him, for help him, Nicholas did. But he'd had those impossible morals -- however, Aerik /does/ know them, he just doesn't understand them, can't apply them to himself. But know morals, yes, he often uses them against others, those petty weaknesses most seem to carry, the delicious dilemmas their compromising creates, entertainment for the psionic. In truth, those morals given to "Nicholas" would have been the healing mind's way of trying to impart these virtues unto Aerik. Longer in Nicky's presence and it might have worked, but the subconscious became too overwhelmed by the efforts and complexities of maintaining a relationship as they were experiencing and shut Aerik down fully, until it neared the end and he began to wake up again... first as seen with Sai and then with Teksi, the demon, whose mental presence fully awoke the sleeping telepathic giant*

*So during the GUARD/RUNner fight, where Aerik had bested Razorshred, what of that? Aerik realizes he /was/ there, he /had/ defeated Shred, he had simply been in Astral form, which wasn't reliant on the phyiscal form, his mind and body always two separate entities, the physical really only a stone around his neck, a liability, something that restricted him. Aerik had so many links and pathways and footholds into others' minds, that he was more than able to continue his own charade among the others, they too saw and scented and heard Nicholas. He was real through virtue of tricked senses and perceptions. Aerik blinks once. Or had Nicholas himself, a Reraizure with his incredible eyes and awesome Gift, used Aerik as he'd needed, accomplished his set task, and erased himself from Aerik's life? The first time Aerik breached Nicky's shields, he'd heard the thoughts /maybe I won't have to erase myself from his life/. Maybe that's what had happened, Nicky found he could trust Aerik, didn't erase himself, and simply confused the situation to an intolerable degree to cover it all up. A Reraizure would certainly be able to accomplish such. Fact or fiction? Aerik isn't sure. It was within Nicky's abilities to /give/ Aerik control, too, he'd offered it before. Or was it the subconscious trying to end things earlier, that it needed a modicum of cooperation, which Aerik always refused to give. Then again, what about their abilities? Aerik's and Nicky's... too well balanced for just co-incidence, too much of a stalemate, too equal and even. Made for eachother, it seemed. Surely, that had to be fabricated. Or was it? Aerik doesn't know. He may never know. He pauses and tugs on the link of the one and only person who could possibly sort this all out for the Psi... and finds the link limp. Xaara was dead, obviously. Aerik frowns only at the inconvenience*

*The emotional factors, the intense love he had for Nicholas, all they had shared--- part of him was relieved. No one, then, had seen him so vulnerable, so graceless, so hurt, any of that. And on the flipside, it left him empty, hollow, hurting and confused. Had he loved another living being or had he loved.... himself? His ideal? His equal who existed only in the confines of his own imagination? Whichever it is, Aerik sours himself onward, because the ends were the same no matter the means... Nicky was gone and Aerik needed to get his life moving again. Another tug to another link, this one he treasures and adores... and it's severed. She's turned her back on the one she once called soulmate. Something stings in Aerik's chest and he nobly ignores it. Perhaps she gave up on him, from what he can gather by his mind-touches to his links, a good deal of time has passed --- maybe she thought him dead, or any number of reasons. He couldn't blame her. Sai, too, appeared to have a sluggishness that had never been marked in a link before. At the moment, Aerik doesn't pry, he's doing a hundred different things at once, the least of which is figuring out the mess of his life. He can't, and won't, be able to branch off his energies to check the links more thoroughly for at least a few days. Then, he can actively pursue them, for right now he needs all his extra power for the idea spinning in his beautiful head*

*When his body was first given to him, long ago now, Valyn de Balois, that fascinating golden drow, had presented it straight from Druhim Vanashta, the realm of the Vazdru, as a little black moth. Before Aerik's 'eyes' (as he'd been in Lyeth at the time), the moth shifted and became the gorgeous male demonic construct Aerik inhabits today. This image has always held firm in Aerik's mind, though he's never attempted to see it through... shapeshifting. Just what could this body do? Did it have set guidelines or was it just predispositioned? Well, if he was to go back to Earth to sort things out, he couldn't be identified on sight or it'd be too counterproductive. He needed to go incognito. After all, there was nothing for him here anymore, he'd lost too much time and information on what was occuring back home, and it gave him something on which to focus rather than the curious pain in his upper chest that was caused by no phyiscal ailment.

So its with this in mind that he stands, stretches languidly, and makes a path for the bathhouse, and soon after utilizes a strong, old link to summon an ally to him. Right now, he'd need her special Sight*

*The body proved resistant to several things --- oddly enough, it had a built-in repugnancy to certain aspects, like the color of gold. Yellow it fiercely rebelled against, so blonde hair, which Aerik had hoped for, was out of the question. True that his own eyes were a dark, dusted gold color, but that didn't seem to matter. The Psi equates the color yellow as something symbolizing the sun, which he's also had trouble with in the past, though he's learned how to stave off its painful and lethal effects by now. And he's still working on alterations when she arrives in a flash of colorless light, having finally found a damn bracelet. Violet eyes scan the room, then blink slowly. She /was/ called, wasn't she? Her voices raises, pitched to carry through the entire suite* Aerik?

*No one answers for a few short moments, Jakorri edging closer to the door to peer about, when the shadow of a movement catches her attention, coming from a side-room. She blinks rapidly as the form slinks from the room in a display of grace and sensuality* What do you think? Aerik... *it shows itself fully* ...Aerika.

*The woman before Jakorri, leaning against the door jamb insolently, is tall, almost six feet if not that, with dark, night-colored eyes like a smoked amethyst, and black hair that nearly reached her knees. Cat-like, cobra-like she moves, naked and pale as the moon. Jakorri swallows hard and finds her voice* A-Aerik? *He's using a voice, she can see that in the aura which surrounds him. She knows that aura, too, which is why she knows who it is primping before her, she can see Gild's link being utilized for the illusion of sound (And such sound! Like Aerik's true voice, but feminine, low and sultry, alto... sexy and alluring as the new form), she sees many things and the telepath doesn't try to hide it from her* What're you... doing?

*Aerik smiles, his full red lips tugging into a curve* I am in disguise. But to make it complete, I require your aid. Should I return as thus, I will fool only the eye. I need also to masquarade against the psionic, the spectrum scanners, the seers, all of it. I am going to start mentally altering my aura, my signature. When it is no longer recognizable as my own, tell me.

Yeah, nice to see you, too. Oh fine, fine, thanks for asking. *Jakorri frowns slightly in reproach towards Aerik* Your manners are slipping. *then she sighs and nods, head cocking to the side* All that's fine and good Aerik, but what about their mechanical sensors? And you don't really plan on doing all this naked, do you? And why a /girl/? Why not just... *she makes a gesture towards him* Put on a hat and glasses or something? Why the whole skidoo?

*Aerik smiles faintly at the comment about his manners and simply refrains from answering* The mechanical sensors are of no import, I can interfere with those and you may recognize how when I engage the link. Eventually I will put on clothes, yes. And a girl because they will be looking for a man. I tried for a blonde woman, but the body refused to cooperate. *he doesn't explain that further when Jakorri gives him a strange look* I do, of course, have the option of switching back at any time. Now then, let us get started, shall we? *Aerik stands straighter in his woman's form, straight-backed and intent. Jakorri watches silently as his aura starts to undulate, warp, and finally alter. For the young woman who's filename perfectly fits what she sees, Aura, its slightly disconcerting to watch the spectacle. She's used to relying on her powers and the ability to reads auras with frightening depth and accuracy. Naturals have one aura which shifts with emotions; unnaturals have two, one that fluxuates with mood and one that remains constant, corresponding to gifts and powers. Now, she's watching a telepath juggle his auras, making them new and unique, and it unsettles the young woman*

No. Now it just looks like a rainbow of /known/ signatures. I can identify most the auras. They'd know them too. You have to subjegate all the others, mix them, make them unrecognizable, Aerik. It looks like a hodgepodge right now. *Again, she watches as Aerik strives to do just that, colors shifting and flowing as signatures wrap around eachother, through one another, braid and knot until she nods in approval, many minutes later* That's it, that's better. You've got them so mixed up, one alone isn't identifiable, its brand new, and all /one/. Good. *another nod, then she offers* You wanna see this? You can look through my eyes if you haven't been already.

*Aerik glances at her sharply, then does as she allows, focusing his mind into hers, his mental sight connecting to her phyiscal and unnatural and acting as one, seeing as she sees... and while in her, he tweaks the aura here and there, makes it more solid and unique. Now a blend of every color he possesses and glowing as almost violet when he uses Aura's Sight, he withdraws, satisfied, and smiles* It would appear that when I take a link, it reflects the choice. To cover this, my powers shall be known as a mirror -- that I can duplicate those abilities around me. In the Lair, it will be quite logical. As for the mechanical eyes... *he tugs on a link for the RUNner technopath, Shutdown, and initiates the gift, effectively scrambling any technical device in a radius about him. He'll keep this link permently on, hiding the color effect under layers of others, blending, changing, so that it will never be read as a separate power. His passing will be noted, however, as radios, TVs, appliances, what have you, go on the fritz until he moves by; he'll try to curb this more later, but for now, it'll have to do. Jakorri sees the color rise then break apart, unidentifiable, and she understands*

Perfect, Aerik. Now, what exactly is your plan? Back to Earth, yes, but what about the others? Lyeth? What about Nicky?

I will return to the Lair, yes, and none but you shall know who I truly am. I will be called Arlett Sinclair. *he thinks keeping with the French names on his mother's side only fitting. Then he waves a delicate hand* Nicky is out of my life. *he offers a dark, pointed gaze* You know that. *he's referring to her Sight. The reason Jakorri has taken all this so well, and so calmly isn't just because she's used to such oddity in her young life anymore, but because she'd already seen most of it when she first lay eyes on Aerik's new form (And thank God his hair was covering his nude body as well as any robe could. He might be female, but he was still /Aerik/), and he knew this, didn't bother to hide, which he could have, but wanted her to answer her own questions before they even sprung to her lips. She didn't know it all, but she got the gist*

*Jakorri nods and sighs softly* I meant to talk to you before, long ago, after the Compound battle, but you vanished. I had wanted to discuss with you what I saw when I looked at Nicky. I guess it doesn't matter now.

No, it does not matter. Now then, I am about ready--- *he trails off and turns back to the bathhouse, gathering water in the sink and linking to Loom, who was still alive. Using her powers of specific TK, he weaves water into fabric, creating clothes from the sink, garments. He'll do just what he needs for now and more later. As he works, Jakorri politely keeps a distance, sinking into a chair that sits nearby and pitching her voice to carry into the smaller chamber*

Um, Aerik, I was thinking, and I think... you need to work on a few things before you attempt this charade of yours. *Silence. Either he wasn't paying attention or he was waiting for her to finish* What I mean is, your mannerisms mark you. Like when you look at someone--- your gaze is too intense, you look right /into/ them instead. And I know you /are/ doing that, but its unnerving, and people associate unnerving with you. Any identifying characteristic, you'll want to alter. Make new ideosyncracies for this new persona. And Aerik? Make her more... normal. You know what I mean... morals and such? You don't grasp them, I know that, but you /know/ them. And since you're acting anyway---- *she trails off as Aerik steps to the side so he can see her*

Yes, You are correct. I shall endeavor to do so.

*Jakorri winces* And Aerik? That no contraction bit? /Really/ unnusual. Can you maybe speak like everyone else? For sake of appearances.

I can- I can- cannnnnn--- *Aerik sighs heavy, rolling his eyes and tries again* I can..nnnnn... *exasperation. He stops* I cannot do that, apparently.

*Jakorri smiles visibly, amused. Such a strange little quirk for a mental god like Aerik Winters to carry... a strict inability to speak in contractions. Its a throwback from his devestated days, from the broken, insane, emotionless computer days, when he was just a mechanical mind in a human boy's body. Not literally, but figuratively. She chuckles* Okay, that won't work. How about an accent? One that's thick. Many foreigners don't put the contractions in, for some reason.

*It was an idea plump with merit and Aerik nods slowly at it. His new name...* I will be French Canadian. All the attitude and none of the scenery. *he quirks a half-smile* My accent shall be French, then. *the last sentence is spoken in a thick Quebec accent, perfectly executed. Jakorri blinks*

You speak it fluently?

*A little mincing action as if to say /Oh, PLEASE/* Oui, mais bien sur. I speak over 200 languages fluently and 400 sub dialects. When I hear a new one, I learn it. *Take it, he means, for that's how Aerik learns, by simply /taking/ from others what he wants, when he wants it. Perfect French accent. Jakorri nods approvingly. It would work*

*Aerik finishes his clothing and dons it, a sleek black dress with a plunging neckline. Simple yet elegant, and it made him look like a model... stunning. He was gorgeous. Without looking about, he approaches smiling. Jakorri voices her approval on his appearance as well* Thank you. Shall we depart?

You have everything, Aerik? *She stands slowly, watching him*

There is nothing here for me to take. *true enough, but still he checks the shields, the webbing, tightens it. The room will remain his, just in case. It will remain well-armed, just in case. He stands beside Jakorri who nods in understanding. A TK tether reaches to bind them, the only way these bracelets can take more then one person at a time. That's when he remembers his secret drawer, and motions for Jakorri to wait. Gliding over to the stand, he kneels and pushes out the fake bottom of the last of three drawers. There inside, is the bracelet he gave to Nicky, to be on the safe side, in case he ever needed to get away fast; he would have been transported to the Lair. It was back, though, in its secret place. He frowns and picks it up with lovely, slender hands, gazing at it. There was no identifiable scent by now, perhaps any had been wiped away, maybe it had been washed, maybe a salve used on it that removes scent (they do exist) and Nicholas had placed it back where he saw Aerik extract it... or maybe Nicky had never touched it. Impossible to know. Putting the drawer back together and into the stand, Aerik clips the bracelet on and turns, nodding to Jakorri. She takes the cue. Both press the blue crystal at the same time.

The elegant tavern suite is now filled only with the ghosts of what might have been.