wanna hold on and feel i belong /open/

[Sinclair]

{Since there is no Dark Angel yet, it seems this room will not get used. But since Cymir's power isn't effected by locked doors, he can get in annd cause trouble. <3 }

Cymir was a seven year old ball of energy. He was a new addition to the Corporation, but one that had been brought here against his will because of his ability.The blond, spiky haired youth didn't seem too alarmed, almost as if he knew it were bound to happen anyway- and with his power, he could have very well had forewarning from his future self. The only thing that alarmed the little boy was that he was in a place with superheroes and no one wore costumes like the cartoons. No one ran around saying they were going to save the world, and there weren't a lot of people that he'd met who had superhero names. To a seven year old who wanted very badly to be a superhero, this was not alright. So while he waited for his ideas to be realized he decided to amuse himself because he knew it'd take a while. While he waited for a new outfit, a black pair of jeans and a long sleeved turtleneck sweater adorned his body. He really didn't mind all that much, he'd wear anything.

Cymir's antics at the moment were anything but innocent. He'd stood outside the Dark Angel's door, and then just like that he'd disappeared. He'd teleported into the office of the Dark Angel with a look of conspirator's delight on his features, then instead of just hiding in there all by himself, he went so far as to unlock the door and even open it a crack, his logic being that he didn't want to be trapped in the room. It was kind of scary in this room. Then, with that settled, he found amusement by looking through any drawer that wasn't locked. When this got old he climbed up onto the dark angel's chair, then tried to climb up onto the back rest only to find he tipped the chair off balance, sending him and the chair to the ground with a loud clatter. It startled Cymir a bit, but he got up anyway and tried to lift the chair to it's rightful position. It wasn't an easy battle, so he let it go, falling to the floor from the very short distance he had managed to lift it. He wasn't giving up entirely, he'd figure out a way to put it to it's rightful place so that he didn't get in trouble, but until then he just stood there, staring at it thoughtfully.

[Decadence]

Peyton's tiny kid-sized heels clicked against the cold tile flooring of the hallways as she gracefully made her way throughout the Corporation, toward the Dark Angel's office. Her posture was perfect, confident, and her eyes remained straight ahead, despite all of the other eyes that were on her. Some stole quick glances at the little girl, while others blatantly stared.

There were many reasons that the thirteen-year-old blonde would attract attention. For one, she was thirteen and a high-ranked archangel. Her light blue skin also had a tendency to attract much curiosity. Finally, the first and greatest factor that made her so noticeable was her reputation. A great number of stories about the little girl were told at the Corporation. Some chose to recount her stories with admiration and awe, while others mocked her with disgust and contempt, and others yet whispered the stories of Peyton with much terror. Many of the stories were exaggerated or were rumors, but many of them were true, and Peyton knew that people were talking. It did not bother her. As long as she was respected, and people knew that she was not a force to be reckoned with, things were good.

Finally, she arrived at the door of Dark Angel. For once, it was not locked and actually slightly open. Weird. Peyton raised one eyebrow before knocking on the door.

"Sir? It is Peyton. I visited Mr. Soto, as you wished, and I have the information that you asked for, sir," she said respectfully. Although Peyton was a polite one, she hardly ever showed this amount of respect and obedience to anyone. In reality, it was not genuine. She intended to overthrow the man behind the door someday, but for now, it would be wisest to stay on his good side.

Peyton waited but no response was given. That was when she heard the loud crash. Alarmed, she waited for any other noises, only to hear a soft echo-like thud, as if whoever was in there was too strong to lift the chair all the way off of the ground. Very peculiar indeed.

Mentally preparing herself for a possible battle, Peyton pushed the door open and stepped in... only to see the little seven year old boy that had just recently been kidnapped, according to her knowledge. By the looks of the boy, she could probably kill him without using any powers at all. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Cymir Vasser," she acknowledged with a cautious nod, examining the boy, looking him up and down. "What... are... you... doing?" She had a bit of contempt and envy toward the boy. He had stolen her title as the very youngest member of the Archangel Corporation. At the same time, she was assured of her superiority and knew that she would not hesitate to eliminate her rival and cover the evidence if it became necessary.

[Sinclair]

Cymir jumped in alarm not at the sound of the door opening, but rather at the sound of his name. Though the voice sounded feminine, that was no reason to let his guard down. When he did turn his attention to the person addressing him, he was relieved. She didn't seem to be someone he should worry about, so Cymir smiled. In fact, she didn't look too much older than him, considering the fact that most kids were at least nine years his superior, if not more, in a place like this.

Cymir was definitely fearful when it came to the Corporation as a whole and as he took in the sight of the girl, he wondered if she got scared, too. But he wasn't going to ask her a question like that right away because she sounded a bit too irritated to bother with such questions. No, no, he'd watch himself so that he didn't offend the wrong people. Had he known he'd already gotten on her nerves for his very presence in the Corporation along with his age, he may have reacted differently.

"I'm trying to get this chair to stand back up."Cymir responded simply."But it's kind of heavy." She probably gathered that herself, but Cy didn't seem too worried about that. She'd asked, he'd give her an answer. However, one thing he wasn't keen on giving her, at least in it's entirity, was his attention. After he'd spoken to her, he looked away to evaluate his surroundings again, silently searching for a solution to the current chair problem. If it stayed on the ground, oh well. But if he could fix it without traveling back in time and telling himself not to tip it over in the first place, well, that was fine too. It only took him a few seconds of looking around to realize it was a fruitless search and to look once more at her.

"Who are you?"Cymir questioned, his eyes moving from her face down toward her wrists to search for an identical bracelet to the one he wore. It seemed she didn't have one, which made him wonder. Cymir was, in part, under the impression that the children of the Corporation would be wearing bracelets. But when he arrived and found that there were really no kids, well, that idea didn't make much sense. And now that he did see someone that could be considered a 'kid', she didn't have one either. Cymir looked from her arms to his own with a subtle hint of confusion on his features. He was trying to figure it out, but no matter how hard he seemed to try it seemed to make no difference. As far as he could tell, this place was just an unknown factor in his life. And perhaps that wasn't so bad, all things considered. But the nagging feeling that he still wasn't sure why he had the bracelet on did worry him considerably.

[Decadence]

He looks so harmless, thought Peyton. The boy seemed completely innocent. The DA and others had made him out to be this greatly powerful being whose abilities had to be harnessed at all costs, including kidnapping the poor kid.

Not quite sure what his ability was anyway, Peyton quickly opened up her binder and flipped through toward the end to the 'V' section. Vasser, Cymir. Time Traveler. Eyes widening, Peyton closed the binder and knew immediately that she would have to stay on this kid's good side. The DA had been correct in believing that the kid could be extremely useful and needed to be kidnapped. Peyton could think of a few uses herself.

Slowly, cautiously, Peyton walked toward the little boy. Her eyes were fixed upon him, never straying. Such a small thing to have such great power, she thought, then realized that the exact same statement could be made about Peyton herself. Perhaps this little boy could be her ally after all. Perhaps.

Without taking her eyes off of the boy, she grasped the handle of the Dark Angel's chair and lifted it up effortlessly, making it look like the easiest thing in the world. Although she had the appearance of an ordinary little girl (aside from her blue skin), and there was little muscle to be seen on her bones, her looks were quite misleading. She possessed superhuman strength.

"Hi... my name is Peyton," she said softly, carefully. "Welcome to the Corporation," she added with a smile, holding out her little hand for him to shake.

[Sinclair]

Cymir didn't flinch, let alone really seem to notice that she was walking toward him. He did look in her direction and notice her movement briefly, but he seemed indefinitely preoccupied. Even her watching him intently didn't really upset him, he knew that if he wanted or needed to, he could get away. That was the thing about Cymir, he knew that no matter how many times they tried to tell him he was trapped, that he had to stay, that he was in their control now, he could always leave. It was the single easiest thing he could do, actually, and Cymir didn't waste any time in doing it. But this was no cause for alarm in his mind, it warranted no reaction at all.

"Thank you,"Cymir offered, his voice suddenly quite cheery. His opinion did shift because of that simple act- really,it never took much to win Cy's favor. He wanted to like and trust everyone, even the people that kidnapped him and insisted that he couldn't leave and that he had to do what they said. As for the fact that she'd effortlessly lifted the chair, well, Cy didn't give it a second thought. He didn't consider it a power or anything, he just knew that since she did it, it was something she was capable of. When she held out her hand, he hesitated, a bit unsure of the gesture. Not because of who it was offering their hand, but because it was not something the seven year old was accustomed to. Besides, he rarely touched anyone unless he wanted to take them somewhere.

"I don't want to touch you,"Cymir stated simply as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Without thinking about it, his hands had moved behind his back so that she couldn't see them, as if he couldn't shake her hand even if he wanted to. It had nothing to do with the color of her skin which he'd noticed was an odd blue color, nor did it have anything to do with her gender, which he'd also noticed was opposite of his own. Not her age, not her tone, no, nothing like that at all brought the words to his lips.

"We'll end up somewhere else if I do and I'm not supposed to leave the building."Cy added, finding it just as natural to say that as his first statement had been. He didn't explain, and yet he didn't really think she knew, either. He just figured she'd take it to be what he said and leave it alone. What he said was true, he was told not to leave, but it wasn't valid because he left anyway with no problem. Not with people he'd just met, of course, but in general.

[Decadence]

Peyton dropped her hand upon hearing the words I don't want to touch you. She was not offended by this. In fact, she had reached a point of self-assurance at which she was rarely offended by anything. However, the boy's odd mannerisms did make her curious. And she was fascinated by what he had to say next-- about how they would travel somewhere else if she took his hand. Interesting. Peyton made a mental note reminding herself to find as much information about Cymir Vasser that she could possibly obtain. He was certainly bound to come in handy in her future plans sooner or later, so she decided that it would be in her best interest to convey a false impression of friendship upon him.

"Oh, that's okay," she said sweetly, in a kiddish voice. She started to stare at his hand as she wondered just how his power worked. Where exactly would they end up if she was to touch him? This, along with other things, she wondered and vowed to research and find out as quickly as possible. Then as she looked at his hand, she noticed the odd bracelet-like device that was strapped around his wrist and wondered what it was. The D.A. hadn't mentioned anything to her about it.

"Hey, what's that bracelet thing you're wearing? Can I see it? I won't touch you," she promised, still looking curiously at his wrist.

[Sinclair]

Cymir didn't really seem to care that she said it was okay. He did feel better because of her tone. In fact, he even smiled at her because of it. However, when she said that she wouldn't touch him, Cymir gave her a look like she was crazy, as if she should have already known.

"You can touch me,"Cymir stated as if the very idea that she couldn't was insane."I can't touch you. There's a difference. A really really big difference." Cymir raised his arm, extending it toward her so she could see it better. It may not have made sense to her, but Cymir's power worked based on intent. If he wanted to take her somewhere, if he was touching her, that was different than having her touch him which was not intentional on his part. To be fair, he could still teleport a person when they touched him, it just wasn't as common.

"I wish I knew. I thought all kids got one. But it won't come off."Cymir explained. "The person that brought me here said that the boss told him to put it on before he brought me here. But he didn't tell me why. No one tells me why ever." The black bracelet was not very special, but it was tight around his wrist and definitely not something that would come off with any amount of tinkering. No butter, no moving his hand in a specific way, nothing even remotely close. It was tightly pressed against the top of his wrist, leaving a small but somewhat uncomfortable imprint whenever he placed too much downward pressure on his hands. He didn't do it often enough to care.

Being seven he wasn't exactly great at prying up the panel cover on the bracelet. It bore his full name and the word 'Archangel' under that. If the panel was lifted one would find nothing more than a series of small white numbers on a black screen slightly smaller than the panel cover itself. The numbers changed sometimes- they were the location that Cymir was transmitting at that moment, the location he was standing. Beyond that, the bracelet looked just like a normal bracelet. He had no way of knowing what it was or why he had it.

"Do you know where the boss is?"Cymir questioned, glancing around almost as if he expected the Dark Angel to appear out of thin air at any moment.

[Decadence]

Peyton was annoyed at the way the little boy spoke to her. He seemed to not understand who he was talking to, and she almost decided that she would just have to inform him through demonstrative means, but she restrained herself, telling herself that he was just a kid even if he did possess such extraordinary power.

The bracelet-thing was fascinating to Peyton. Since he had said she could touch him, she cautiously reached out to slide her little finger along the cold metal. That was when she noticed a little crack in the bracelet. Carefully examining it, she slid her fingernail in the crack and gently pried the panel open, revealing a series of coordinates.

A tracking device, she suddenly realized. So Cymir was going to be the Dark Angel's very own little pet. Genius, she thought. Peyton did not think this about very few people (aside from herself and perhaps one other person called Kaycee Hunter), but she gave credit where it was due, and she would have to compliment the Dark Angel whenever she saw him.

"That's so cool. You must be really special. The boss must like you a lot. I wish I got one," Peyton lied, wanting to laugh manically at the blatant fib, but she kept a straight face that appeared to be genuine envy. After shutting the panel, she looked into Cymir's eyes and spoke again. "I don't know where the boss is right now. He's been gone for a while, but I can show you around if you want," she said with a smile, hoping to make an ally of the kid. He would make a worthy pawn in her ongoing game of chess.

[Sinclair]

Cymir seemed mildly curious about the panel she pulled up, but by the way he didn't say a word, he seemed to already know that whatever it was wasn't something he could know about. It was like some covert secret in his mind. Oh well. He couldn't really do anything to help the situation and he didn't really want to ask Peyton any questions about it.

"Of course I am. I met him when the Corporation was starting. I was six. And while we were there, the boss said that he wanted me on his side, that I could be useful. The man that took me there told him a bunch of stuff about what was going to happen, that everything was going to be okay, and some stuff I didn't understand. When I got back home an Archangel had already been sent to get me. They brought me all the way from Concord- that's by Boston." When she said that she wanted one, he gave her a weird expression, one that told of his displeasure in the fact that she'd want one, too. He didn't want it, why would she? "No you don't. I don't like it." Cymir argued. He wasn't really trying to tell her that she didn't- if she said she did, she did. But he was trying to say that it really was not a great thing rather than that her opinion was not her opinion.

"Around the building? But it's scary. . .Won't we get in trouble?"Cymir questioned. It may have seemed odd for Cymir to be worrying about getting in trouble as he stood in the office of the Dark Angel, uninvited, but he wasn't scared of the Dark Angel. He wanted the Dark Angel's attention, and a good way to do it was to do something that would get him in trouble. But he did not want other people to be upset with him, to punish him as it were. They could be mean and they were typically pretty intimidating, where as the Dark Angel seemed to like him. Then again, he had no idea of knowing what the thoughts of the man were- he could only go by the impressions he was left with by the man's behavior, and he was hardly the best judge of that. He was only a seven year old child, afterall.

"Besides, I don't know if I can lock the door like it was when I came in. . . I can't leave it open."Cymir added. Without explaining, he walked around the desk to the door without looking at Peyton even once. He examined it curiously as if he could suddenly figure it out- but he wasn't giving himself any credit whatsoever, so it seemed impossible for him to make any ground in the way of figuring it out.

[Decadence]

Peyton was satisfied with the little boy's blissful ignorance regarding the fact that he was basically a well-treated slave-- a family pet with a relatively loose leash. It was best if he was kept in the dark anyway, and she had no intention of shedding light on the situation. Maybe he would figure out his position with the company eventually, but that wouldn't be today, and it wouldn't be because of Peyton. She knew better than that.

However, as he rambled off his story about how he came to be under the Dark Angel's protection (or possession), Peyton did make sure to pay close attention and to make note of every detail in her head. She wanted to know everything about this kid-- strengths, weaknesses, fears, background, anything that she could possibly take advantage of or use against him in the future. As she recorded these details in her brain, she also made note of all the blanks in his story, the questions that she needed to answer. Who was the man who took Cymir? What had that man told the little boy that was difficult for him to understand?

Then the boy mentioned that he didn't like the bracelet and that she shouldn't like it either. This troubled Peyton because it meant that Cymir wasn't so clueless after all. He most likely did not know what the braclet was and what it did, but he had negative feelings about it, and that was not ideal at all. So she tried to convince him otherwise.

"I think it looks really really cool. It's all high tech and stuff. Like a superhero gadget." Peyton forced herself to speak like a child. Normally, she disliked using silly phrases that made her sound any less intelligent than she truly was, but she had to convey a sense of innocence and comradery for Cymir's sake. It was necessary, so she tried not to cringe as she said phrases like "high tech and stuff."

When the little boy did not jump at the opportunity to be given the grand tour of the Corporation, Peyton was unsure of her next move and took a moment to contemplate it. On one hand, she did not want to push the boy and make him uncomfortable. On the other hand, she probably would not get many opportunities like this to be near the boy, talk to him, and make observations. After a few seconds, she calculated that it would be in her best interest to persuade him to come with her.

"Oh, don't worry. You won't get in trouble if you're with me." Peyton smiled and could not hide her pride at that statement. "And I'll take care of the door. Come on," she beckoned, slowly walking toward the door, looking over her shoulder, and waving her hand in a "let's go" motion, hoping that he would follow her.

[Sinclair]

Cymir's interest was definitely sparked. A super hero? The mere word, no matter what she said with it, left Cymir smiling. Though she didn't know it, it was his one grue goal, to be a super hero. He wanted to look the part, he wanted to be important, and he wanted to be as great as he imagined. Who didn't want to be what they dreamed? And what was cooler than a superhero? While kids wanted to be president or a fireman, he just wanted to realize his destiny. He wanted to do what he was meant to do in the best way possible.

"Yeah, it does! I will be a super hero,"He stated, then, looking at his wrist with a new appreciation, he smiled brighter."It'll go with my super hero costume! When I get one, I mean." As he added that it'd be when he had one, his tone had dropped, his mood growing gloomier. He seemed to go back to being the kid that knew he had to be in this enviroment. It was something he did without fuss, without objection."Someday I'll have one. Watch. Like Superman! And everyone will know who I am and they'll know that I can help them."

Cymir watched her as she spoke, listening to what she had to say. He believed her- he probably wouldn't get in trouble if he was with her, which was precisely the reason that he was willing to do it. He didn't look thrilled to do it, but he wasn't entirely against it, either, which was the best she would get out of him.

"And. . .you won't tell on me, will you?"Cymir appealed to her, suddenly nervous as his mind raced with the thoughts of punishment that he could have in store for him. Usually people didn't feel a need to pummel him or anything, but they did feel that he was a spoiled brat who needed to be taught the rules. Violence seemed the easiest and, really, the only way they seemed to know how to teach him. Honestly, Cymir wouldn't have minded if she'd told the Dark Angel, Cymir wasn't scared of him. Just everyone else."If you don't, I'll take you where you want to go." Cymir had offered to do that so many times that it was hardly anything he minded. It was how he always got his way. Sure, he pretty much had to do it if she ordered him to, anyway, but it was a nice bargaining chip anyway.

"We can see the dinosaurs- but we have to be really careful because they're really big. I see the dinosaurs a lot. Or indians- I like the indians. But we have to stay away from the older kids or they'll make me stay and I don't like it. It kind of hurts, but their stupid magnets keep me from being able to leave."Cymir explained as he finally moved to follow her as she had seemed to want him to.

"Are the bigger kids mean to you, too?"Cymir questioned curiously, hoping she'd understand why he didn't like them. Older kids didn't get it because they were older, they were always on the side of kids their age. But maybe she would be on his side because she wasn't really an older kid, and she seemed nice enough so far."They're just bullies."

[Decadence]

Peyton felt satisfied with her work upon hearing Cymir's enthusiasm about the superhero comment. She noted to herself that if she ever had to persuade him to do something for her, she need only mention that it would make him closer to being a superhero.

"I won't tell on you," Peyton promised as she pulled the door shut behind them, reinitiating the complicated locking mechanism before rapidly punching a code into a small number pad. A sound was made by gears shifting and clicking together behind the door, and Peyton smiled at Cymir then made her way down the hall.

"Dinosaurs? Indians? Reeaalllyyy? That's amazing." Peyton faked a fascinated, enthusiastic voice, forcing her eyes to be wide and impressed. The boy's power was truly amazing, she would admit that much, but she knew that if she had it, she would be doing much more than visiting dinosaurs and Indians. She would be rewriting history with herself as the queen.

"You're right, Cymir. They're just bullies. But I can make sure they're not mean to you anymore. They listen to me," Peyton promised. Then something seemed to click in her brain. Did he say something about magnets hurting him? What was that about? "Wait, wait, magnets keep you from leaving? How does that work?" she demanded, her voice a bit more forceful and impatient than she had intended.

[Sinclair]

"Good,"Cymir agreed happily, stopping beside Peyton as she locked the door again. He didn't have much interest in how she did it, honestly, just that she had."Thank you,". When Peyton turned and began walking down the hallway, Cymir wasn't ready for it. He jumped slightly, then rushed to catch up. He didn't want to get left behind, that was for sure!

"Yes, dinosaurs!"Cymir agreed, matching her enthusiasm with his own- his own being genuine."But some people get scared. I'm not scared anymore." There was no hiding the pride in his voice as he informed her of the last fact- that he wasn't scared. Truth be told, he was still terrified, but she didn't need to know that. Dinosaurs weren't the only thing he'd seen; he'd seen people as children, he'd seen people save the life of another by changing one minute detail of the other person's day. He'd seen people warn themselves of things they would be tempted to do in the future, and he'd seen plenty of other historical events that he'd never even heard of before being told to go there.

"Really?"Cymir questioned, his tone hopeful and undeniably trusting. If she was telling the truth, that sounded very appealing. In fact, he even grinned to himself at the thought. But the grin fell quickly when Peyton spoke again.

"I don't know,"Cymir murmured, dropping his gaze to the floor. Then, as suddenly as he'd dropped his gaze, he lifted his head back up to gaze at her defensively. He even stopped walking, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly."I'm not showing you. The magnets just pull me back. But only when they're touching me. But you can't do it! I won't let you. Besides, you said you'd keep the bullies from being mean! You can't be mean too."

Cymir couldn't have explained why magnets had the effect they did even if he wanted to. He knew that, unless it was a really strong magnet, it had to be against his skin. He also knew that when he teleported or tried to go back in time, the magnet would keep him in place; it was like, part of him was pulled toward his destination and part was drawn to the magnet. It was very painful and it would inevitably shake Cymir up, making him cry and leaving him quite willing to do whatever was asked of him opposed to enduring the pain again.