Scene #2198: The Most Powerful Man In The World

Owner	Pose
Defiant	LONDON EARLY EVENING For a man as powerful as Scion, it's remarkably hard to find any real information on him. The golden man doesn't appear to have had any form of identity prior to taking on that particular mantle. He flies where he pleases, helping people, never slowing down, never stopping. A lot of people claim to know the truth about the man, but it's clear they're all just fraudsters looking to make a quick buck off a plausable story. Still, there is a trail that leads to London, even if it's just to track down and mark off one more fraudster - a homeless man who calls himself 'the most powerful man in the world'. One wonders why the most powerful man in the world might be begging on a street corner for loose change, a dog leashed in his hand and without any sort of shoes on, panhandling with an old mug. "I am Kevin Norton and I am the most powerful man in the world. I've saved millions of lives. /Billions/."
Bitter Medicine	Bitter Medicine stands before the most powerful man in the world, the evening sun working with his tall frame to cast a long shadow. By some definitions, Bitter /is/ a long shadow. Arms crossed, he considers where his trail has led him. Here, to this beggar who claims to have saved millions of lives. Perhaps he has, perhaps he hasn't. The purpose of this mission is not to determine the veracity of his claims, but to determine the veracity of others' claims--namely that, in some way, this filthy, impoverished man might have a connection to Scion. Of course, the journey here was a little inconvenient without access to his Plasma Thruster Array, but this is not a mission which requires high mobility. It does, however, require a nose for the truth, which is exactly what his Deception Recognition System offers. He activates the charm and offers up alms for the beggar. The first of perhaps many questions is offered up. "What connection do you have to Scion?" He is short, straight and to the point--the perfect example of the average Soulsteel caste. His question is almost an imperative, the start of an interrogation if ever there was one. One might almost think it accusatory, and his severe features cast in the evening light would make them no less so. It doesn't occur to him that his brusque interrogative might not be received well--or at all. Bitter Medicine is not used to dealing with the Lumpenproletariat.
Defiant	The dog at Kevin's side lets out a little whoof at Bitter Medicine. Kevin reaches down and brushes his fingers behind the dog's ear. He gives Bitter a funny look, and meets his gaze right on. "See, usually I get two types," he says, "Some give me the money and don't even give me a second glance. But people like you who look at me? They're sure to lecture me on how I should spend it. So feel free to wag your finger at me and tell me I shouldn't spend it on drugs, drink and fags. I'll understand and I can look suitably ashamed. But rest assured, I feed Duke first, then myself, then I buy the little comforts." He lets out a breath, and the rain begins to fall. More people hurry past the pair, not even looking at the strange man, the begger and the mutt. "Heavy burden, mine," Kevin replies, "I... I don't suppose you have a little while? Would you walk with me a few minutes?"
Bitter Medicine	Bitter Medicine tilts his head, regards Kevin from the corner of his eye. "I'm not here to lecture you. I do two things: investigate and sanitize." He lets that sink in. "Right now, I'm here to investigate--so if you need to walk, walk. I'll be walking with you, and I've got all day. Don't you worry about that."
Defiant	Kevin walks, Duke the dog at his side. He leads the way down streets and alleys, talking all the while. "Y'know, I was in my early twenties when I started out. Born in London, parents died in my teens. Moved here. Met a girl. Moved into her flat. Won't say it was the cause of this predicament of mine but I'm willing to take the blame for it. Too many mistakes. It all started me on this road. She started hitting me. I was never the type to hit back. It got bad. Am I bothering you? Boring you?" The rain falls and Kevin turns a sudden corner, heading towards a bridge leading over a narrow stream. There's a few benches, some small, younger trees. "But that sort of thing isn't what people like you have to worry about is it? Well, thank you, by the way, for coming. I don't know if I would have had the strength to go through with this, even with Duke at my side. He's a good boy but he's getting old. Twelve years old. Last legs."
Bitter Medicine	Bitter Medicine considers the story. He's not much given to conversation, but he does begin to piece together some information. A picture. "No," he says after a time. No he's not bothered? No he's not bored? Or... no he's not familiar with the beggar's concerns? Maybe it's all three. He speaks up again. "Only when we get close to people like you," he says. What he means is mortals--but he figures 'capes' and 'norms' could stand in for Alchemicals and mortals. It's why he's never allowed himself to get close to anyone--well, why he tries so hard. Colin is his only friend, and on the one hand he values that friendship immensely. On the other, the potential for some outside force to destroy it or manipulate it to get to him? It's unfathomable, and yet there are some people who willingly invite that risk. It makes no sense, but he's not here to make sense of that today. "What is it that we're doing? That you're doing, with my help?"
Defiant	Kevin doesn't respond just yet. He reaches into a puddle of street water and splashes it into his face, washing away some of the dirt and grime. He stands again, stops. Between the nearest bench and tree, the golden man is floating, only inches above the ground, luminecent even in the gloom and rain. The water doesn't even seem to touch him. His hair and beard, golden like the rest of him, aren't even getting wet. Kevin glances back at Bitter and Duke. Duke, for his part, hasn't moved an inch and his ears are flat against his head. "Hello," Kevin says, "Old friend." Scion doesn't speak, but his eyes don't leave Kevin. "Been a long time," he continues, "Almost convinced myself I'd imagined you." He steps closer to Scion, and then gestures for Bitter to follow him. "You called him Scion? That was never his name. I said I was the most powerful man in the world. Wasn't lying. See?"
Bitter Medicine	Bitter Medicine quirks an eyebrow. So--the rumors were true. This is certainly Scion, or, rather, the being to whom the name is assigned. And this beggar has just led him right to the answer. His intent doesn't appear to be deceptive in nature. "You never were the type to hit back," he says. The Alchemical may not have the niceties of the average cape, but let it be said that he always listens, even to things that seem insignificant. "He's you, isn't he? Like the Siberian was to Manton."
Defiant	"No," Kevin says, shaking his head. "No, although maybe if he was this wouldn't be so hard. He's not me, but I control him. Maybe. Not really, not like you're thinking. Time was, this golden man just spend his time wandering, floating here and there, never doing anything. Naked as the day he wa born. Some thought he was an angel, others say a /fallen/ angel, still more say scientific explanations. But they all agreed on that he looked sad." Kevin shakes his head. "He doesn't," he says sharply, "Don't buy it. He doesn't /look/ anything. That expression never changes. But whatever's underneath? That's what gives you that feeling - he looks sad because he /is/ sad. Except take out the 'looks' part of it." "Was pure chance, but he stopped somewhere near here, dead of night. Happened when I was still new to this life. I saw him, knew that this was the golden man I saw on the news. I was mad with depression, I ran up to him and pounded my hands on his chest, yelled at him, swore - because he dared to be more miserable than me! Because people were putting all their hopes on him and he wasn't doing a fucking thing other than fly around and be miserable! T told him to go /do/ something, go help people. And he did. Has been ever since." Which, all things considered, might be far more worrying than a homeless man with a projection power.
Bitter Medicine	Bitter Medicine says, "You make suggestions to him, and he listens." He believes he understands the connection, although the mechanism for it escapes him. The Alchemical nods towards Scion, even if the being isn't necessarily looking at him. "People will place their hopes on anything they don't understand. The problem is when it doesn't measure up." Bitter Medicine crosses his arms. "He's the most powerful thing on this planet. He doesn't feel that way, though. He feels powerless. Useless. Because if he really was what the people wanted him to be, he could destroy the Endbringers. He could destroy the circumstances that led you to shout what you shouted that day. He could destroy the sense of helplessness and despair that you felt--that anyone in your position has ever felt." Bitter Medicine's piercing gaze bores into Scion, perhaps even accusingly. But it's not really him that Bitter is accusing, or so the being might detect. "That's my guess, anyway. Maybe I'm just projecting.""
Defiant	At Bitter's words, Kevin's lips press into a thin line and he shakes his head. "No. No... I'll get to that. That's my fault to, or I think it is. Look at him, there's nothing in there. Whatever happened to him to make him that way, it broke the man. Broke his mind. Doesn't seem to understand emotion. He scares me. He chose me to listen to - me, of all people. I'm the most powerful person on the planet just because I can tell the strongest, most /capable/ man in the world what to do." Kevin is still staring at Scion, trembling slightly, fists clenched. "I was talking to him about my childhood once, about home, and he latches onto something. His head turns, eye contact - scares the hell out of me. He picked up on a word, everyone thinks he said 'Scion' and it sticks. All because of one thing I say, the whole world changes. The word was Zion." Kevin shouts out. "Golden man! I've screwed up, waiting so long to talk to you. But I'm here now and there's two things we got to discuss. This is a hard one, because I /really/ want to be wrong here. If this works, then it means my cowardice and my stupidity cost people big." "Those Endbringer motherfuckrs. I told you that you need to stop them, that you need to fight and protect people - and you have been. And God help me, maybe I wasn't specific enough. Maybe I didn't realise you'd interpret me literally. We need youto /kill/ the things. Fight to kill. Don't just- Oh, God, I hope I'm wrong and you didn't take it to mean fight for fighting's sake and not to stop them /for good/. You understand? Don't just stop them from doing what they're doing - stop them /permanently/." Scion says nothing, hovering in place. Kevin turns back to Bitter, his face ashen, trembling."If that was the problem, and he kills one of those bastards, then I've just saved countless people - and the blood of every person who has died in the mean time is on my hands."
Bitter Medicine	"I hope you have saved them," says the Alchemical. "I really do. Someone in your position can't. Afford. To be wrong." He turns from Kevin, then thinks better of it and turns around. "I fought with Armsmaster against Leviathan. Did you know that Scion almost let it escape?" He pauses for effect. "Maybe he was following your orders to the letter. Or, maybe he hasn't been killing them because he knows he's not supposed to."
Defiant	Kevin's face just /falls/ at that. "Oh, golden man... Oh, golden man..." He doesn't weep, but the disappointment is practically palpable. "My God, golden man, I'm praying you understand me now because I was afraid of exactly this. And one other thing." Kevin turns back to Bitter Medicine. "Other thing? I've run out of time. Middle aged and my liver's all done in. Never drank, never did drugs, but I got the hepatitis somehow. So, one last thing, golden man - I want you to keep doing what you're doing, help people. Maybe try to communicate with the good guys more. I told you to do that before and you didn't listen but you should. And if there's a problem and you need someone to listen to and someone to visit from time to time, then..." Kevin fixes Bitter with an apologetic stare. "Look for this young man. He might wear some makeup and have a lot of jewellery but, well, I know you won't judge him. He's good people. I don't know his name but I know he's a better person than I am - braver, if only because he's following some homeless motherfucker God knows where."
Bitter Medicine	Few Soulsteel castes know how to react to mortals who don't regard them with at least some measure of fear. Even the famously handsome of their number are admired from afar for the terrible brutalities they might, and sometimes do inflict upon heretics and dissidents. Woe be upon anyone who might be considered a threat to the state, or who don't fall precisely within its rigidly defined borders. Autochthonia has a system, and when that system fails, it has its garbage men. Bitter Medicine and his brothers and sisters are those garbage men, but for once, he doesn't feel like it. Why should this pitiful creature, this outcast of society have such an effect? Maybe that's why Scion listens to him. "My designation is Bitter Medicine," he says. "And I'm not better than you. Stronger, faster, probably smarter... but not better." He pauses... "Good people might be stretching it, too. But you know what? I don't get to feel that way very often. Most of the time I'm doing some pretty terrible things to make sure the good guys get to stick to their system. So thank you."
Defiant	Kevin takes up Duke's leash again and shrugs. "I wouldn't thank me. Really, it's a shitty thing for me to be doing. This burden. But I think it's better for him to listen to you than telling him to obey the Suits or Red Gauntlet or the Protectorate or whatever. So, you think about it, figure out what you need to do, decide what he needs to be told." Kevin sighs. "Just call it something of a hunch. When you live on the street like I do, you get to see a lot of people. Figure them out from a glance or a word. I don't know why he picked /me/ to listen to, but he did. Maybe I reminded him of someone. Maybe he just decided we were friends. Well, with luck, he can be your friend too. You got it?"
Bitter Medicine	"Yeah. I got it. Take care of yourself, comrade." Will Scion even listen to him? He didn't seem to have any trouble doing it before. If there's anything left in there, maybe he needs a friend. Of course, that's the last thing Bitter needs, or the last thing he thinks he needs. If Scion does decide to listen to him, and listen to his suggestions, then the history of the world has just changed in this one, single moment. Part of him wants to keep it a secret from Colin. The man has clear Orichalcum leanings, the type of person whose vision far exceeds their grasp. His inventions nearly killed an Endbringer, and nearly cost him his own life--what would the Tinker do with the most powerful force in the whole god damned world? Maybe the beggar is right. Maybe it's best if Scion remains in outside hands. The very thought makes him cringe. This is a human being he's talking about, not a weapon. There must be something left in there, and even if there isn't... would it be right to hide it from the only individual in the multiverse he considers a friend? He knows Colin well enough to know that he'd be angry if he knew of the deception... and that, underneat that anger, he'd be hurt. "You sure haven't made things easy for me--but I guess they never were. Come on, if you're coming. Golden Man." He shakes his head and departs.
Defiant	Kevin smiles slightly at Bitter. "Come on, Duke." He doesn't turn around or stop walking before man and dog have vanished into the gloom of the pouring rain. Scion, for his part, turns his even, blank stare on Bitter. For a few long, silent seconds, he does nothing. And then he takes off, faster than the eye can see, leaving only a golden trail of light in his wake. Things to do, people to help. And maybe he'll return to find Bitter, just like Kevin said he might. Still, Kevin's voice calls out over the rain. "Good deal, isn't it? Ten pounds to become the most powerful man in the world."