|1| Hat
"Slater?" an earnest voice beckoned, partially muffled by the closed door. The sound of footsteps getting closer. A brief rap of knuckles asking again, demanding entrance without words. Behind this door, lying in wait were drab walls, creaky floorboards and threadbare furnishings. The dwelling of a young boy, twelve years of age, with short black hair, pale blue eyes, and fair skin. Slater Torrance was only one of many children who called this place home, packed in like sardines, cheerless orphans with no place left to go. He hadn't been living in this orphanage for long, vaguely estimating it to be about two months, his parents having being violently ripped away from him. He hadn't even cried about it. When he'd woken in the hospital, a few scratches and bruises marring him from the incident that took his parents from him, he didn't even ask about them. He just knew, deep in his bones, that there was no point. The doctors ran the usual battery of tests, he was asked the questions that everyone gets asked after a traumatic event, and that was it. An orphanage was where he ended up. He wasn't even sure of what part of the United States he was in. Not that it was a surprise to him. That was just the way things were. The door opened with a grating creak, startling Slater out of his musing, head turning to face the interloper, a woman in the midst of her twilight years, scraggly grey hair loosely gathered in a scrunchy, a token attempt to appear somewhat presentable.
"Honestly, Slater, didn't you hear me?" she queried him exasperatedly, brow furrowed, and brown eyes riffling over him quickly. Before he could open his mouth though, she huffed gently. "Never mind, it doesn't matter really. But I needed to come and see you about something important. Somebody is downstairs, wanting to visit you, a woman, I was told, apparently looking to adopt you." He could only cock his head, eyes widening in faint confusion and alarm. "No need to be surprised dear, it does happen, no matter what all the other children have been saying. Now please try and smarten yourself up a bit, will you?" she remarked wryly, perhaps noting that there wasn't a lot that Slater could do about it, but giving a small nod at his token attempts to smooth out the wrinkles in his jeans. "Good boy." she smiled encouragingly. "Now, please sit tight, I just have to go to see her. I'm sure she'll be coming along in a few minutes." She waited briefly, Slater giving her a small nod, after which she gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Don't worry dear, it's that young woman downstairs who has to put in the effort for you, not the other way around. Really, you kids all deserve to have someone you can trust, to offer you a good life." After a few seconds to let her words sink in, she let go of his shoulder, then hurried out of the room chirping as she went. "Be right back dear!"
Slater simply stared at the open door, hearing the receding footsteps on the stairs, just a few feet away from his room. Breathing out shakily, he couldn't help feel nervous, despite what Mrs. Lane had tried to do for him. Words weren't much use to Slater anymore, because they often never meant anything, like how he'd been told not to worry, his parents were in a better place. That they wouldn't want him to be unhappy, to live a full life and all the other placating words he'd been told. Really, he couldn't see the way forward from this point, he was only twelve. Adults never let kids make important decisions, except hopefully, maybe this one. Maybe they wouldn't force him to go with some stranger if he really didn't want to? Then again, one less child was one less mouth to feed. Some of the caretakers were far too loose with their conversations, as though most of the children, Slater included, wouldn't really understand, or even eavesdrop. No, he knew that he was likely going away with this woman, he'd just have to hope things would be okay. And if it really mattered, he was sure he could leave, using his recently acquired strength. A power that he'd kept secret, not allowing anyone to know of the things that he could do, all since that incident. If he had to, no matter what, he'd use it and run. He stood up, leaving the edge of his bed behind, and stepped over to the window, eyes peering through the windowpane at the overcast sky, with grey clouds threatening rain, unheeding of the drab grey brick buildings surrounding the orphanage. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to keep himself calm, the moving clouds offering a welcome distraction. For a minute, he was peaceful, until a faint nagging sensation in the back of his head presented itself. This wasn't the first time he'd felt it, a strange sort of tugging that attracted his attention. The first time had been in the hospital, though he had ignored the desire to go and find the cause. It was odd, in that he could feel the general direction that it was originating from, and when he had moved around to various places, he understood, somehow, the change in distance and orientation of it. And right now, he could tell that what he was homing in on, was getting closer to him. In fact, he was almost certain that it was climbing the stairs. Heart hammering, he stepped towards the corner of his room, taking a seat on a creaky wooden chair and facing the open door, alert. Why he hadn't felt this warning until it reached partway up the stairs, he wasn't sure. But one thing he was certain of, was that it was a person. The methodical footsteps practically guaranteed it. Then a shadow crossed the entrance, followed by the person casting it. The sensation in his head suffused his body, making him feel like he was about to fidget uncontrollably. Almost like a rush of adrenaline. His pale blue eyes gazed into the similarly coloured eyes of the person stood in his doorway. Distractedly, he noted her features. She was a young woman, definitely younger than his mother had been. Long black hair fell down behind her shoulders, not quite straight, but with a subtle wave to it. She was pretty. He couldn't describe her in any other way. Not only that, but she was wearing a crisp, wrinkle-free suit, black, with a white shirt and black tie. And a rather strange hat, with a wide brim, also in black. Pretty, Slater thought, but unusual.
"May I come in?" she remarked flatly, voice and face unnervingly blank. Slater shivered slightly, her eyes being completely void of anything he could recognise. Aside from the obvious indications that she was a woman, she felt almost machine-like to him.
With courage he wasn't sure he had any right to possess, he replied warily. "Yes."
"Thank you." she responded, voice unchanged, as she stepped through the doorway and turning briefly to shut the door with an almost menacing click to Slater's ears. Afterwards, her eyes snapped back onto him, focused and unnerving. "You are aware of why I am here." she spoke, a statement, rather than a question with Slater choosing to offer a jerky nod in reply anyway. She paused for a moment, the silence becoming stifling for him, before she spoke again. "Slater Torrance, I am Contessa." Then, she promptly scanned him with her blue eyes, before talking once more. "But you can call me Fortuna." The words themselves were unusual, offering Slater two different names was one thing, but what really jarred him was how she had said them. Her eyes had brightened, almost as if she had woken up from an inert state, and her voice became almost soothing, a faint smile enhancing her face, with just a hint of an accent. "Would you like to help me save the world?" she added earnestly, an almost childlike expression making itself known.
Slater froze dumbfoundedly. What? His tongue darted out briefly to wet his lips slightly, Slater being completely caught off guard by the woman, Contessa or Fortuna, he wasn't sure which to choose. She was just looking at him, waiting for him to reply. But he couldn't even begin to understand what was going on. Nervously, he offered a leading question. "What do you mean?"
"The world is going to end. And Scion will be the one to do it. All evidence concurs." she replied, eyes empty and voice flat again, as though it was just a worthless topic. "It must not be allowed." She stared at him, Slater trying to not shiver at the sheer emotionless gaze she had fixed him with. Once more, she was blank. "Your power will help me. It is certain."
His heart stuttered, fear and delight warring within him at those words, delivered as though they were fact, unassailable. Fear, over the fact that his secret wasn't a secret at all. She knew that he had powers. That he was a Parahuman, and that his powers would help. Not that he particularly liked the idea in its entirety, his powers being unnerving to himself. He could barely understand them, but it was a small comfort that they were… helpful in some way. But even he couldn't grasp the concept of the world ending, and done by something that everyone seemed to consider a paragon. It was Contessa that had spoken those words to him, not Fortuna, Slater recognising the disparity between the two halves of her. Contessa, the frighteningly blank, yet completely self-assured side, and Fortuna, the side that had offered him a sliver of feeling. After a few moments he plucked up the courage to start talking to her, this Contessa. He had decided. "What must I do?"
A faint smile lit up her face, causing a little heat to rise in his cheeks, happy that he had made the woman smile, and embarrassed at his sudden agreement. "Trust me, Slater." She responded softly, offering an outstretched hand. With a nervous swallow, he touched her hand with his own, Fortuna clasping it gently. With the other she pulled off her hat, and promptly dropped it on his head, causing him to squeak in surprise. "Take my hat." she spoke genially, eyes remaining warm and inviting. "Everything necessary will be dealt with. Door. Fortuna's Place."
With that, a portal sprang into life behind her, through which an apartment of some kind could be seen. She turned to face it, holding onto his hand gently. "Are you ready, Slater?" she remarked softly.
He looked briefly at their entwined hands, before looking up at her face once more, now in profile. With a firm nod to calm himself, he replied strongly. "Call me Tor." She half turned her head to him, offering him a nod of agreement, lips curving prettily. He found himself mimicking the smile in return, before squeezing her hand.
"I'm ready."
