The Path to Hell


ash_icon.gif claire_icon.gif harrison_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif melissa3_icon.gif peter_icon.gif

Also Featuring:

knox_icon.gif kris_icon.gif risa_icon.gif rickham2_icon.gif rupe_icon.gif sylar3_icon.gif thalia_icon.gif west_icon.gif

Scene Title The Path to Hell
Synopsis Messiah's membership is called together for the first time.
Date June 9, 2010

Howland Hook Facility

Unfinished buildings that look like gutted iron rib cages is all that remains of the unfinished Howland Hook Facility. What was going to be a revitalization of Staten Island's abandoned rail system was cancelled after the bomb of 2006 ripped thorugh Manhattan and sent a poisonous fallout cloud down onto Staten Island. All that remains of this massive abandoned facility is a sprawl of seventeen unfinished buildings in various state of disrepair over 187 acres of land.

Ranging from two floor office spaces to gigantic roofless skeletons of warehouses the Howland Hook new constructions only serve as haunting landmarks between far older though more intact structures. Old rail houses and terminal stations for Staten Island's abandoned rail network rise up from the crumbling concrete parking lots and industrial parkland here, connecting old and derelict rail lines that criss-cross through Staten Island and north into Jersey City through tunnels that cut beneath the northern river.

This complex was intended to be a container ship port and features a derelict ship berth 9,000 feet long that had been intended for the use of loading and unloading cargo. Shipping cranes have since been left abandoned here, reaching up with peeling paint and rust towards the skies.

the path to hell is paved with good intentions
and if our enemies reside there we will blaze the trail
for this is a war we cannot lose.
— Rebel

That was the text message sent across the network of unconnected phones relayed through the technopathic network supplied by Rebel to the disperate members of the group that calls itself Messiah. GPS coordinates and map directions to a location on Staten Island's north coast were uplinked to the phones following that message, detailing directions from the phones' current positions to a location indicated as being the Howland Hook Facility.

Never since Messiah's founding has a meeting of all of its minds been called, handfuls of individuals have been assigned tasks in small cells, interconnected by Rebel's network of communication and kept apart from one another. Those fledgeling months of Messiah's organization was for this moment, the day when the group finally sees its true size, and begins to comprehend the scope of its work and move towards the end result of its ultimate goals, whatever those may actually be.

Blocked into the personal organizer on those phones, a "Meeting" is luisted as scheduled by Rebel at 11:00pm on Wednesday the 9th, likely when the far flung members of Messiah are expected to converge on the Howland Hook facility, and it is this very gritty and industrial location situated on Staten Island's north coast is a stark sight to behold.

It's not difficult to determine where the Messiah meeting is taking place from the perimeter of the facility, for even through the vista of a chainlink fence cordoning off the abandoned factories and warehouses, the glow of flood lights shining down on an enormous circular building at the crux of crossing railway tracks might as well be a beacon.

On the outside it looks like a resurgence of construction operations, with tall cranes silhouette against the clouded night's sky, bulldozers parked in rusty idleness and a few old pickup trucks parked by the round, run-down building's main entrance. People are already filtering in to the facility before eleven, each of them wearing — in some fashion — a red scarf on their person, almost like an ID badge of admittance into the meeting.

Inside the round building under the expansive sixty foot high ceilings, the sound of voices murmuring together comes with a certain sense of eager anticipation. The floodlights are shining in thorugh a high row of skylight windows thirty feet up from the dusty concrete floor and the red-scarved people checking their phones and collected into clusters of five to ten people each have formed a makeshift circle around an open center floor area, waiting for whatever's about to happen.

In the crowd there's dozens of familiar faces to some members of Messiah or another. Leaning up against the wall near the sliding bay doors that come into the building, Benjamin Washington — better known as Knox — has his arms crossed and head down, scanning the crowd and watching the faces that come and go, a wiry young man with a fauxhawk and black leather jacket covered with patches and buttons stands at his side, checking his phone, Kris Bender, Messiah's teleporter.

Across the building, a waifish brunette woman in a long black jacket buttoned down the front wears her red scarf around her shoulders and head like a shawl, and Risa Lynette seems intent on keeping concentration on something, the tension at her brows and creased like of focus on her forehead is indicative of such. By her side a tall and lanky man dressed in a brown trenchcoat and fedora has his scarf wrapped around his lower face, covering much of his mouth. What little does show of his body looks to be made of nothing but pitted and scarred iron, and Allen Rickham's metallic countenance is something that tries to be kept hidden from those not already familiar with him.

Mixed in with a crowd of young teenagers in dark hooded sweatshirts all wearing their red scarves tied around their arms, West Rosen looks like he's seen better days. Bruises adorn one side of his face with purple, yellow and brown spotchy quality and his split lip looks to be gradually healing. For all that the fly-boy is known for saying what he thinks, it looks like something got him a sound thrashing.

With fifteen or so people gathered in the spacious building, it looks like there's both time and room for more people to arrive, the meeting has yet to start, and there's more revolutionaries to come and join the crowd.

With the text message that went out, Ash had no idea what to expect, so when he comes, he's dressed for whatever may come. He's in his little tactical outfit, the white and grey body suit still, webbing on his back holding the sheaths for his khukri's down, and helping to cover up the holsters for his two pistols, combat knife at his belt. His mask and the goggles he wears are tucked into his belt with it's pouches and little knick nacks. His scarf is wrapped around his right forarm, from wrist to elbow spirallinga round the limb. He walks in past Knox and Sparkles, offering them both nods of his head and a lazy smile. He slips into the place, moving along slowly.

Ash's head turns about, eyes moving from face to face gradually, taking in everyone present, both familiar faces and non. Rickham earns a respectful nod as the man makes hsi way to stand on his own for the time being.

Knox isn't the only one standing against the back wall, just about lost in the see of bodies the short form of Claire Bennet stands against the wall. In a leather jacket, her camo pants from her days in Madagascar, and a white shirt. Her scarf is wound around and tied on her arm. Brunette hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, which sways with each movement of her head when she watches people pass.

For the most part, Claire is acting slightly anti-social, nodding when nodded too, but that's about it.

Standing in the crowd, not yet seeing anyone he actually recognizes, Magnes is wearing his long black zipped up leather coat, which stops at the knees of his blue jeans. He's got his red scarf wrapped around his mouth and nose, arms crossed as he leans against a wall, waiting to see what's going on. This sort of gathering… clearly something's going down, and despite the mental compulsions imposed on him, he's definitely nervous.

The weather is as crisp as it can get in the summer, thanks to artificial winter. The roads and air are clear, leaving the rivers to swell into fatter snakes. For her part, Huruma is partial to this new weather- the warmth simply makes her far more comfortable. The rumbling of her motorbike growls through the air as she brings it as close to the designated building as she can, drifting past a couple solitary figures on the path in the process. Even with the sound of the machine, Huruma's presence seems to slip in and out of peripheral vision like a shadow over the wall. When it comes time to disembark, she leaves her full face helmet with the bike.

Her long neck cranes to inspect the frame of the large door as she saunters her way inside, fingers pulling one by one at her gloves. The leather slips off, to be tucked in the pocket of a military-esque leather motorcycle jacket. It is cropped somewhat short- or perhaps it was just short on her. Leather pants belted by that long red sash, ending into black boots. Huruma looks the role she came to play. Whatever it may be.

The Howland Hook Facility. It sounds like it is well hidden and not having been in the city that long, Harrison does have a hard time finding it at first. He is wearing the red scarf around his neck the White Knight gave him. He is currently clad with a deep set hoodie, and his leather jacket over it, a pair of jeans and K-Swiss sneakers in case he has to run. The young man is nervous yet determined to see what this is about…since being caught on camera and becoming a internet star for his actions at the bank. Harrison has been in hiding and couldnt't be happier to be out… He avoids eye contact right now because he does not know a single person here. He stands by himself away from the group. His hands in his pockets.

No one looks willing to make contact with people from different cells, or in Harrison's case a new face to the group. The only attention the young man gets is a scrutinizing look from Knox on his way in, then a glance down to Knox's phone before he nods his head in approval. While there may not have been invitations printed out, there most certainly is a guest list, which is exactly why someone who isn't on it earns such an uproar in the next few minutes.

Coming in through the double doors of the facility, it isn't the leather-clad form of Peter Petrelli that warrants a shocked look from Knox, but rather the brunette woman walking at his side. Not only does Melissa Pierce not have one of Messiah's identifying scarves, but she is lacking in actually having been invited to the meeting proper. The fact that Peter Petrell is here at all though is likely to be something of a surprise to Magnes, though oddly less of a concern to Claire. Being family has its perks when it comes to clandestine secrets.

"Peter," comes a sharp growl of a warning from Knox as he pushes away from the wall and starts storming towards where Peter's walking. "Who the fuck's this?" There's a motion towards Melissa, and Knox looks up and over at Peter, then sharply to Melissa before they're too far in front the doorway.

"Relax, Knox…" Peter offers with a motion of one hand slowly to the air, "relax." Peter's dark eyes scan the crowd, then settle back down on the irate man working what amounts to security here. "Last minute addition, Rupert and I discussed it, don't worry…"

As if on cue to that, a wiry man with a grown in goatee and matted hair wearing the only three piece suit of the room comes sauntering up behind Knox, moving with an oddly floating gait before he lays a hand on Knox's shoulder. "Ben," he says in a nasally voice, smile almost a grimace, "ease up, she's with us now…" and for all that Rupert Carmichael makes understates entrances, the way he wears his scarf lighly draped over his shoulders is as dignified as his suit. "Sorry I'm late, the fundraiser lasted a little longer than I expected."

Offering a look up to Melissa Rupert makes a fond attempt at a smile before extending his hand. "You must be Melissa Pierce," he notes with a bob of his head into a nod, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Peter's told me so much about you."

While Rupert is just beginning to make his rounds before the actual meeting gets underway, the young woman whom had been putting so much focus on something up until recently finally breaks away from her stoic guardian, offering an askance look across the building to Magnes before making her way towards where Harrison has been standing by himself.

"Excuse me," has the barest touch of a Russian accent behind it, and Risa Lynette's introduction to Harrison comes with the offering of a hand and a hesitant smile, "you… must be Harrison? I heard you'd been recruited, it's good to see you." She can't be any older than twenty, rail thin and birdlike in her fragility, and yet juxtaposed in greeting to a man who can turn himself into titanium.

As she enters Melissa glances around, until Knox pitches a fit and she tilts her head, studying him like he's an oddity of some sort, but then she simply smiles at him and looks to Rupert, taking his hand. "Yep. That's me. And he's told you a lot, huh? You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

With that little introduction out of the way Melissa resumes her look around, brows lifting at some of the familiar faces she spots. "My, my…interesting group you've gathered here, honey," she says, giving Peter a quick grin. "Useful bunch though, at least the few I know," she says, nodding to Ash and Magnes.

Ash blinks in surprise, and of all things is ready to go on the offensive when he seems Melissa. He'd made previous attempts to spark her interest in the cause, and she wanted to hear nothing of it, so it's with definite surprise and suspicion that she walks into the warehouse. Ash's hard eyes follow her progress, his right hand flexing lightly. He might consider her a friend, but anyone who knows him wouldn't doubt his willingness to eliminate someone who might threaten the orginization he's become a part of. He stays in place though, standing still off to the side of the other cells. He takes note of Claire, of Huruma's arrival, of Magnes' as well, all of it is taken in, but he only offers nods to those that are nkown to him, not approaching to offer words.

The man's eyes settle on Peter though, and Rupert, since Rupert seems to be garnering attention, and Peter and Melissa have his, that makes the man that came in with Melissa important in some way. He leaves his arms loose at his sides though, the man ready for action, though anyone walking into this building right now would be in for a alot more than world of hurt.

As the scene begins to unfold before him, Harrison takes a step back and his nearly trips on a rock. The apples of his cheeks begin to turn a few shades of red. When his eyes fall on Risa as she comes over to him he blinks and says, "ummm you know my name?" He looks down at the woman's hand and takes it slowly giving it a firm shake, "You must have seen the video." He sighs softly, "Yeah." He just nods releasing her hand, "Thanks…I don't know anyone here. But thanks for the kind welcome."

Magnes just stares when Melissa walks in, and looks around him for a moment, a bit of disbelief, then looks back, a bit of a double take when he notices Peter as well. Just what the hell is going on here? As interesting as the meeting is, the mixture of faces makes him even more nervous, sliding his hands into his pockets and keeping his spot against the wall.

Ordinarily in this type of setting, Huruma would stay on her own until beckoned. Unlike other instances, however, this is one she has found herself in before, courtesy of the same man. It is hard to not notice her as she patiently crosses the floor, notably so when her attention and moon-colored eyes are affixed to Rupert Carmichael. Like a stray cat returning to where she had once found cream. Her drifting may be somewhat presumptuous, although she certainly does not seem to think so.

The noise provided by the moods of those around her rattle in her head alongside what voices she can hear. To the empath, it is perhaps like listening to twice as many people speaking. It is not bothersome in the least- simply more to recognize. As Huruma gets closer to those who thought personally to bring her in, her metaphorical tongue flicks out to test the air there, discerning one from another in a very meticulous way.

"Actually," Risa comments to Harrison's guess, "I saw the guest list. Rebel knows a lot about you, or… at least enough. All I got was a photograph and… a few other odds and ends. Just you being here says a lot about yourself though." her brows furrow and Risa scrutinizer Harrison for a second before nodding her head slowly and offering an askance look to where Rupert is drawing attention. "The meeting's about to start soon… just…"

Breathing in slowly, Risa exhales a sigh and nods her head once. "Keep an open mind to everything you're going to hear, there's a lot that we'll be going over, so just… try not to make a decision on things until it's all said and done. If you're here then it probably means that Rebel chose you for a good reason," there's a look back at Rickham, then over to Harrison, "I've got my ideas."

"They're waiting on us," Rupert notes to Peter, offering another hesitant smile to Melissa before slipping past Peter and maing his way towards the center of the building. Peter offers a look to Rupert's back, then over to Claire, making a beckoning gesture to her before looking to Melissa again.

"I've gotta' go up and talk, just hang around. The short girl heading over here's Claire, she'll keep an eye on you. She's a good person…" Nodding once to Knox, Peter slips away from the group and starts to follow Rupert to the center of the building where the crowd is starting to converge. As Peter's making his way to the center of the building, other familiar faces are maneuvering into view from the outside.

Thalia Ashford's entrance is a quiet one, followed not long thereafter by a subtle patch of billowy black inklike shadows that snakes and slithers across the floor, winds beneath and behind a few spectators and then forms into a column and dissipates to reveal a darkly dressed man slouching back against the far wall where the face of Timothy Lantz hides behind it the identity of Sylar, but under this shapeshifted guise, there is little to hide the look on Lantz's face when he spots Peter Petrelli moving to the spoitlight. It would figure, wouldn't it?

A handful more people make their way in to the building when Peter and Rupert make their way into the center of the round structure. Without ampetheater style height differences people tend to crowd more to see what's going on, but thankfully the makeup of the building affords a certain perfect level of acoustics.

"Some of you might recognize me," is said loudly when Peter steps into the middle of the circle, "some of you might've heard about me," it's emphasis to draw attention, "clear all of that out of your heads. The people we were before coming into this room don't matter when we're here, they're masks."

As Peter begins t talk, Rupert is diverted from joining him entirely by catching sight of Huruma. There's the flash of a smile and the somewhat doddering history professor slinks his way over to Huruma's side, leaning in and offering her a raise of his brows in greeting and a crooked smile. "Fancy running into you here," he notes with a look around at the others, "it's good to see that you, ah, you know were able to make it."

While Rupert is reconnecting with Huruma, Peter is doing his best to grandstand as he paces around the middle of the room. "My name is Peter Petrelli," he announces to the building, "and I am Messiah, just as each of you are, just as each and every one of the scarves we wear is cut from the same piece of cloth, so are each and every one of us part of the same idea the same people… while we are apart, we will always remember what it is like to stand together by our imperfections." Peter's dark eyes scan out over the crowd, one hand lifting up to rake thorugh his hair.

"I wanted to call you all here today, because I wanted our first meeting to be about the truth, and about the enemy that we're fighting against and what they're capable of." At those words, Rupert offers an apologetic smile to Huruma and a touch of his hand on her shoulder before he slips out to join Peter in the middle of the circle. "I stand here in front of you not as Peter Petrelli, but as the leader of Messiah. I stand here to show you the truth of what the government is planning to do to our kind… to tell you thr truth about the virus."

And so begins the sea of whispering.

When Risa mentions Rebel, Melissa's head jerks in her direction, eyes narrowing slightly. Now there's someone she'd like to meet. But then Peter's speaking to her and she's looking back at him, arching a brow. "Claire?" She looks towards her as Peter points her out, and she laughs softly, shaking her head. "Who would've figured," she mumbles to herself.

Mel's thumbs slide into the belt loops on her pants, and she adopts a casual, almost lazy pose. She listens, and frowns when the scarves are mentioned. She doesn't have a cool scarf. It's like the secret decoder ring, and she wants one! When he continues though, those thoughts are pushed from her mind and she focuses on the words being said.

Or at least, her mind mostly focuses there. The empath in the room might be able to single out the anger growing again as she thinks of what the virus did, or it might just be one more drop in a sea of emotions. Either way, Mel stays where she is, silently brooding. For now.

Ash watches Huruma move about, watches Magne's shock, watches the young man in the sneakers look awkward at his greeting, but most of all, he watches Rupert, and he watches Peter. As Peter makes his way to the center of the building with Rupert Ash's eyes follow the man, closely. He settles in, arms crossing over his chest to listen to him talk.

He stands, still and silent, watching with ice hard eyes as he talks of truth but tells none yet. Ash glances around the room, watching other's reactions to the man who's up in front, then turning to look back once again. His left hand runs alogn his scarf, fingers running over the red material slowly.

As Peter motions to her, Claire sighs softly, eyes hooding slightly. Of course, he won't let her just sit in the corner quietly. Pushing a foot against the wall, Claire starts through the crowd, hands slipping into the pockets of her jacket. When she reaches Melissa, the blonde gets a tight lipped smile. "Hey… Long time." She offers softly before turning to hear what Peter has to say.

When he announces himself leader, Claire's brows furrow slightly… she's still not use to it. Her head shakes slowly, eyes casting down to the floor as she listens.

As he nods slowly, he gives Risa a weak smile, "I am willing to listen." When Risa looks towards Rickham, Harrison does the same and looks back at the woman with a confused looked. He begins to open his mouth to ask what she means but the meeting is beginning. As the group begins to make their way towards the center, Harrison slowly makes his way towards the center but keeps to the outer ring of it. His eyes falling on Peter as he begins to speak. The young man listening intently.

Magnes must have been practicing, because when he leaps over the crowd, doing a flip in the air with his arms spread out, his scarf doesn't tangle around him at all, and when he lands in front of Peter with one knee bent slightly, it blows dramatically behind him.

Again, he practices these little dramatic moves.

When he stands up straight, he stares down into Peter's eyes, his own eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You be straight with me right now, are you Kazimir?"

Rupert moves past, with his brief hand; Huruma accepts his moment of apology with a mutter of mental relief. Huruma examines him as he moves away, eyes roaming off to watch Peter speak the words she has since been able to hear. Unfortunately, whatever Peter Petrelli was about to elucidate all of them with about the virus- is paused abruptly when Magnes- oh, of course- pushes his universal luck.

Huruma's hand moves up to her face, thumb and forefinger pressing to either temple above her brow.

Somehow between the landing and the question, Magnes finds both the iron-clad frame of Allen Rickham and the fear-empowered figure of Knox closing in on him like secret service at a Presidential speech. But before either of them can turn Magnes into a human wishbone, Peter lifts up a hand and makes a motion that it's okay, probably just this once, but it's okay. Rickham's plodding footfalls come to a stop, and the iron man furrows metallic brows while Knox shakes his head dismissively and steps back into the crowd.

"No," Peter states flatly to Magnes, dark eyes narrowed, "but he taught me a few things. Now," Peter motions back to the group, "hold your questions until the end of class." There's a lopsided smile that crosses Peter's lips, and taking Magnes' initiative a few more people just up and step in asking their own inane questions, some clearly asking if Peter knows where their missing family members are, others asking if he has vaccine, it seems like Magnes' interruption opened a floodgate of other people wanting to look out for themselves.

"Everyone calm down and be quiet," is said with such civility and calm that it shouldn't make a pall of silence fall over the room, but somehow does. When Rupert Carmichael comes walking into the middle of the room, there's the flash of a smile and a public-speaker's poise. This may not be a symposium on the history of the Sumerian language, but Rupert Carmichael can still work a crowd. "We don't have answers to every question you're going to ask, no one does… but right now we have something very important to convey to you all, and it's important that you listen." Emphasized like an order, worded like a request. When it comes to a man who has persuasion as his Evolved ability, Rupert's command of the crowd is surprisingly firm-handed leaving few the wiser.

"Several months ago," Rupert continues, filling in for Peter with mercurial ease, "an operative of Messiah broke into the home of CDC operations director Howard Lemay and delivered copied files to us. Among the documents taken was information that lead us on the hunt of a paper trail with the assistance of our technopathic ally Rebel. We discovered that the United States Government conducted a research operation in Mozambique in 2009 regarding a weaponized viral outbreak among its small Evolved population."

Folding his arms across his chest, Peter offers a look to Magnes as Rupert continues. "This information revealed that the US Government had weaponized a strain of a naturally occuring virus that attacks the central nervous system, called the Shanti Virus. The test in Mozambique in 2009 was part of a plan of controlled infection which would be put into action in the United States to scare the Evolved into registration, the same scare tactics used to reinforce registration for access to the vaccines to the virus we'd seen over the winter."

It's here that Peter steps in, breathing in deeply and giving one last look to Magnes before stepping past Rupert and addressing the crowd. "The government is moving in stages, beginning with the infection and likely ending in a mass quarantine like what was propogated in Mozambique that Rupert discovered on his journey out there this winter. Rebel has found accounts first-hand of "camps" being constructed around the country, relocation camps, ones designed to hold a sizable Evolved population…"

Like a tag-team wrestling duo, Rupert chimes in following Peter. "Virus, quarantine, camps…" Rupert holds his hands up in the air, "we don't know where it will end, but we intend on stopping it before it gets out of control. Those of you that are standing here today are doing so because you believe that the government can't be trusted, that we Evolved have to look out for one another, and that eventually… this is going to come to blows. As Saint Dominic said, it is better to be the hammer than the anvil. We will not be passive, the H5N10 virus was a declaration of war against our kind, and we will answer it."

Melissa glances at Claire and smiles, but like the brunette's, Mel's smile doesn't really reach her eyes. She's entirely too distracted, and her thoughts have gone in a dark direction. "Who knew. Found your mom's dog, by the way," is murmured absently. And then, of course, just then there's another distraction. This time it's Magnes, and it has her sighing and shaking her head. The rest is listened to, though a bit half-heartedly given that she's heard the gist before.

Ash blinks a few times as Magnes flips over the crowd and plops down, then makes demands of Peter. "Back off kid." He calls out to him, his eyes narrowed in irritation at the interuption. "Let the man talk before you grill him about things like that. Get your scrawny ass back here before I kick it again." That part is growled, his eyes going to Peter then back to Magnes, waiting to see if the kid backs off.

He listens then to the announcements about the viruses, and Ash's eyes narrow, but he doesn't seem surprised or shocked, he just tips his ehad forwards slowly. "It makes perfect sense." he comments, not too loudly, but loud enough to be heard. He looks down at the floor for a few moments, then lifts his eyes back upwards, looking towards Peter, and though it's obvious from his face that he has questions, he keeps them to himself for the moment, letting Rupert and Peter talk to the crowd. Ash tucks his thumbs into his belt, standing silent vigil once more.

There is no missing Magnes' antics, blue eyes following his path. "Oh god…" Claire whispers under her breath, a hint of a groan in her voice. "And to think I dated him." Her eyes close and she shakes her head, glancing at Melissa. "Sometimes… I really wish I hadn't had my brains blown out… cause I'd really like to know what I saw in him.

"It's a total mystery." Her head shifts back to the stage, "Cause the me now… doesn't see what it could be." Claire sighs softly, shifting on her feet.

The mention of Mr Muggles, gets the brunettes attention. Her expression softening a touch "What?! Mr Muggles? I… good." Her face falls again into the expression it was before and she nods. "Good. No need for my mom to worry needlessly." She glances at Melissa again before turning back to listen to the information, since she really does need to know what's said, but for a wholly different reason.

At Magnes's display of acrobatics, Harrison lets out a slight gasp as he begins to slowly back away from the group. The young man is still inexperienced compared to the number of veterans here dealing with this kind of stuff. He looks at the door and then stops short when Rickham begins to make his way towards Magnes. The iron clad man catches Harrison attention as he begins to find his feet have taken control and he is stepping closer to the circle. He steps on his tippy toes to try and see over the other people present in hopes to get a better look at the iron man. He cocks his head to the side staring at him but hears what Rupert and Peter say and it sinks in. Harrison whispers, "I won't be locked up."

"You kicking my ass is a personal choice on my part, don't forget that." Magnes reminds, stepping down from the stage at the two begin speaking again, then turns to watch and listen. He hasn't even remotely looked at Claire, or even really in her direction. He knows her bone structure, her persistantly usually unchanging weight, and not to look in that direction if he wants to keep a level head. What the two has to say, while it does make sense, does nothing to ease his nerves about what the solution to all of this might be, this not being passive they're talking about.

When Rupert adjusts his tie, there's a look to Huruma, then the flash of a smile as his eyes scan out over the gathering again. "The first task set out before us is the neutralization of the government's capacity to produce the virus, which means discovering where it's made and destroying the facility or facilities necessary. Secondly comes a pointed effort on our part to prevent the forcible registration of unwilling Evolved within our sphere of influence, which means targeted and careful attacks at government registration centers that neutralize their capability to catalogue and track us."

Then, tilting his chin up, Rupert imperiously offers a look to Peter and nods his head once. Peter steps out from Rupert's shadow and makes a broad gesture to the room. "Up until now, you have all been operating independantly or have only just now come into our fold. Times are changing and so is the way we're operaring. We have a list," and that term itself is a weighty one, "a list of all of your names, your abilities and your personal… preferences on how to handle things. We also have a list of necessary targets that need to be taken out, villains within the government that are above the law because they control it, manipulate it and use it to sheild themselves."

Peter folds his hands behind his back, taking a few steps across the concrete yard. "You will all be receiving assignments based on these lists, you will be grouped together with members of Messiah and given a target and a deadline, it may be something as simple as an attack on a registration site to the freeing of an illegally imprisoned Evolved from a government detention center." Peter furrows his brows, shaking his head slowly and looking from person to person.

"Let there be no confusion, what we're asking you to do is dangerous, could risk your own life or the lives of others, but what we're doing is for the greater good." Peter's words are convicted ones, he truly believes that this is the last resort of a people backed into a corner. "I'm asking you to take risks, potentially I'm asking you to kill people, but the people that will die in this war are the same ones who would just as soon line us all up against a wall and shoot us dead, or worse."

Lastly, and with a certain sense of gravity, Peter adds, "When all is said and done, we'll have our peace. But we can't rest right now, we can't just sit on our hands and protect ourselves when the threat of losing everything is so close. I've seen what happened to us at the Moab Federal Penetentiary, and any of us who bear the injection scars of that concentration camp can tell you that the world we live in is live or die."

Peter's brows furrow as he looks down to his feet and declares, "I refuse to lie down and die."

Melissa looks back at Claire, giving her a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, I've got him. He's alright. And you dumped him, so don't worry too much." She glances towards Harrison inching away, and her head tilts, studying him for a moment before looking back to those doing the talking.

The mention of Moab has a dark look crossing Mel's face, and a hand lifts, fingers brushing lightly over the very scar Peter mentioned. That touch replaces the look of anger with one akin to sorrow, but it passes quickly. Instead, at Peter's last comment, she smiles, and it seems to be a true smile. "About time," she murmurs softly to herself, before her voice rises to be heard.

"Good. I'm right there with you. They've no right to do this to us, and it's about time someone actually fought back!"

Ash snorts softly at Magnes' comment. "You and I both know where you're at kid." Is all he says, giving the other man a meaningful look before he sighs softly and glances back towards Harrison as the guy freaks out a bit. Ash barks a loud laugh at his shying away, then coming back towards the circle, a shake of his head, the killer's eyes then coming back once again to Peter. As the man speaks of fighting back Ash's eyes light up, conviction, fervor in them. This is what he's been waiting for. The chance to strike back at the bastards that built Moab, that are kidnapping people from all over.

Then peter makes mention of the very facility that started all of this for Ash, this hatred of the government, the desire to fight back, to destroy, to free the other Evolved. "Alot of us were in Moab from what I've seen, maybe not a majority, but alot. That doesn't seem like a coincidence. But my question Peter… is who are you? I've never heard of you, never seen you. Who are you? What have you done? What have you been a part of? If we're to follow you, I want to know who's orders I'm following, who's list I'm executing." He folds his arms over his chest once more, his eyes settled on Peter squarely. Mel's comment is heard, but not reacted to at the moment.

Claire listens quietly, her jaw clenching tight as she listens, brows furrowing. As people call out around her, the brunette stays silent, there is an unease settling in her stomach. A glance goes to Melissa out of the corner of her eye, but then her eyes drop to the floor. She's quietly thoughtful at this point.

As he listens to Peter, Harrison's face grows a little bit more serious. He begins to look around at all the people and can see these people have seen their share of hell. He is a kid from Maine who played football and came to New York to sing. How life changes things. He blinks at the idea of killing people but when Peter says, "I refuse to lie down and die." Harrison gets caught up in the moment and says loudly, "I refuse to lie down and die too!" He blinks as the apples in his cheeks begin to redden once again.

Magnes' fears seem to be validated as things start taking a slightly more violent turn. Some of them won't have to go against their limits, but the fact is, other people will be. All sorts of words go through his head, like terrorism and anarchy. He looks around himself, seeing people get riled up, and the usual suspects like Ash and Melissa. He slips his hands into his coat pockets, doing his best to stay calm, not saying anything for now.

Ash's question is a legitimate one, and from the look exchange between Peter and Rupert one they figured might come. Ash's question is echoed by several other junior members of Messiah, the hooded sweatshirt wearing kids following the bandwagon to chime in after Ash does in erratic conversational leapfrogging of one another.

"As I told you before, my name is Peter Petrelli, I am the brother of the President of the United States, I'm a former prisoner of the Moab Federal Penitentiary, a soldier of PARIAH," and to that Knox bows his head in a respectful nod, "I'm someone who has been stepped on by this government and made a pawn by them once…"

Peter furrows his brows, looking out over the crowd. "My name is Peter Petrelli, and I was manipulated by elements of this government to fulfilling their own plans to create a government where they could control our kind, where an innocent man would be framed for the most heinous of crimes. If there was anyone who has a right to hate this world, it's the person who helped make it what it is."

Peter's brows furrow and his head dips down. He all but admits it, but keeps that last bit of personal shame to himself. "I hope that answers your question, Ash." Peter's eyes meet the soldier's, then he nods his head once and looks to Rupert. "This is Rupert Carmichael, Messiah's tactical advisor and intelligence head. He'll be working closely with Rebel to relay you assignments in the coming weeks. For now, I want you all to get acclimated with the plan we've outlined here, that you're going to need to make some hard choices, to fight when it's asked of you, and take on the government that is going to come for you if you don't."

Sliding his tongue over his lips, Peter nods his head and holds out his arms. "This place, Howland Hook, is owned by Rupert and is our safehaven. There's a white factory to the north of us on the coast that has a fully furnished basement level with barracks for those of you lacking a place to stay. In the coming weeks a construction crew is going to be moving in here to cover our activities with legitimate business, you are all welcome to stay here, to meet our other members and prepare. In the coming weeks you'll get your first assignments, and we'll start bringing the fight back to the people that have been trying to do to us what was done to so many other countries around the world."

Exhaling a deep sigh, Peter looks out over the crowd. "Truth will set us free," and when he says those words, the long-term members of Messiah reiterate it in turn back to Peter with a fist raised into the air.

"Welcome to the war."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License