Meat Party Tonight (Masters Family)

It was a cold, late and quiet night at a lakeside port in Chicago. A truck carrying a shipping container was slowly moving through the docks towards a warehouse. Its lights were dimmed and the drivers navigated by the lights of the large building’s perimeter. Slowly it made its way inside, where other trucks had already arrived.

Shauna had been following the truck for some time now. A great change had come over her in the past months, and she had found the ability now to fly; although useful, she used it pragmatically, never to openly soar through the air, using it only to effortlessly traverse obstacles. She was not yet used to the possibilities of a third dimension of movement, and remained on foot, following from the shadows.

She was still at the outer perimeter of the warehouse, but the details of its insides were no mystery to her. She could see a makeshift stage, and some wealthy clientele coming in via limousines. She drew up a quick picture of what was happening- some kind of metahuman auction, an uncommon but grisly business, young metahumans being bought and sold as slaves. It was a crime against humanity and metahuman kind. Shauna expected young, pretty girls, but tonight there was something different about it. All metahumans of all appearances and ages were being brought in under heavy guard.

The auction would be starting soon it seemed. Shauna remained watching from afar, on the roof of the adjacent warehouse. No distance or obstacle was able to bar her sight. She saw the children and teenaged metahumans were alive and well, kept in good condition at least, and decided she could afford to wait and see some more before acting. She wanted to know about these new buyers... they didn't seem to be the criminal sort at first. There was a large group of very wealthy looking folks wearing white masks and ball attire, about a dozen of them, attending, looking to be part of some kind of organization.

They also seemed to set aside a fair number of subjects apart from the auctioned ones, which means there was also a direct sale going on.

Travis was dressed formally for the occasion, in white suit with a red silk tie, dirty blond hair slicked back. He had only heard about these metahuman auctions recently, and the chance to be able to just buys metahumans was something that he would not and could not pass up. Coming with him on this illegal venture would be his sibling, and the one that had taken the name of Beta, the young Jason Masters and he was expected to wear a suit that Travis had picked out for him. The young male would have to be pulled from his precious potato chips for a few moments, but he was sure that he would not mind once he saw the metahumans that were being sold today. To this end they would travel to the windy city of Chicago, where in a discreet location they would find the ones that were selling.

Everything that they were doing was discreet and Travis would be dipping into his own personal funds in this transaction. While they were sizeable, the profits that the company made were even greater, so long as he did not over spend his father would be nonethewiser. They moved by private plane, and arrived within hours as Travis stepped off of the plane with Jason stepping behind him. ”Alright, we do have a spending limit but I think we should be able to afford any metahuman there. So just point one out that you want and we can go from there.” They would off course be expected to wear mask, though Travis had gleaned that information himself. Yet he would save that until they reached the location, riding in a suave limosioune, Travis sipping on a glass of wine while his sibling would likely lay into the chips that had been arranged for him.

Where they find this auction was a warehouse, Travis holding his hands behind his back while walking a few steps ahead of Jason. Once entering the scene he would choose to sit down and wait for the thing to start, letting EVE extend her influence and check for any sort of electronic surveillance, mostly to erase him and Jason from it. With that done they would wait for the thing to start.

Wearing a white suit, lined with purple, and completed with a Mauveine tie, Jason Masters was pleased with this set of events. By the end of this auction, he would have a new playmate, or possibly multiple ones, of his choosing, courtesy to his big brother’s bank account. He was practically bouncing on the plane ride to the car, and then the car ride to the auction, and then the walk from the car to the warehouse. Any disappointment he felt about not being able  to eat his favorite poison of choice inside of the “Classy Event” was soon forgotten as he was once again reminded of the new toys he would gain. Upon his countenance he bore a plastic mask of a rabbit head, complete with eighteen inch long ears and black whiskers painted on.

Beta glanced around with nervous excitement once inside the building, nearly unable to stay inside of his seat, eyeing the competition here. He was positive he would get anything he wanted, as Travis was always accommodating to the younger sibling (or so it would seem), however he was also nonetheless worried about someone being able to outbid them. It intrigued him as to why there were so many other people here of a much older age than himself, judging from their body type, size and language. Perhaps they were buying playmates for their children, or they were just really lonely. Either way he hoped that they did not want the same people as he did. Turning to his eldest brother, he inquired “Do you think they would give me root beer?”.

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A new face worn, a new body. Michael Coriolis Velon stepped off of his motorcycle, leaving it parked outside of the warehouse where this business transaction of sorts was to take place. One would expect to see the most vile of specimens here, purchasing other humans for their personal nefarious uses. It was sickening. It was also a very convenient way for Vegail to obtain the loyalty of some potentially powerful metahumans, and to gain their DNA for his research and experimentation. Win-Win for both parties, as they would be released to do as they would as soon as he obtained his samples, and monetary compensation would be provided as well, of course. Unless they attempted to fight him once released, in which case they would be eliminated. Besides, a whole body was worth far more to him than mere vials.

Underneath his helmet he wore a Victorian era mask, originally a gleaming copper, now fading to green in most places; he could have had it restored, yet he treasured it far too much for that. Vegail believed the history behind an item made it far more valuable than what it was made of, or how it looked, though the latter two were not unimportant either. The rest of his body was covered by a suit the color of onyx, complete with a black shirt, tie and shoes. The black accentuated his hair and eyes, something that was done intentionally; no one would see any resemblance between this man and the head of Velon Industries.

Inside the warehouse he strode, with a confidence few could hope to pull off without being labeled as arrogant. From a waitress holding a tray he took a glass of champagne, consuming it within moments and withdrawing a flask from within his jacket pocket, pouring its dark red contents into the glass, drinking this one more sparingly. Vegail led himself to a table, and seated himself, awaiting the beginning of this auction. He had previously scoped out the merchandise, and had selected several items he wanted to purchase.

While the perimeter and outside of the warehouse was protected by up to date security measures, There was precious little surveillance inside the warehouse. There was only the security of masked goons armed with machine guns, rocket launchers and ballistic shields. No recordings of this auction were allowed after all.

Once Michael stepped into the warehouse, the doors were closed off and the armed guards went to the windows to keep watch. The whole place was sparse, except for the auction area which was spruced up with rich Persian carpets, a chandelier, tables with hoar-deourves, and comfortable leather seats.

Three large glass boxes were carted onto the stage, each covered by curtains and containing apparently metahuman teenagers.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We have tonight, three metahumans of adolescent age for auction.” The auction master said.

Most of the auctioneers not part of the swanky plain white group reacted rather poorly. “What? Only three? You must be kidding me. What is the point of the auction when most of the stock is already sold?” A voice came up from the table with Russian gangsters.

“This auction is being held thanks to the generous resources of anonymous. They are only auctioning off their extra stocks. They are here to inspect their pre-purchased goods.” The Anonymous masked group slowly stood up to inspect the metahuman samples behind the stage.

“Anyway, we are ready to begin. Exhibit A, Canadian, Male, with the supernatural ability to transform into the legendary creature, the Wendigo. Bidding will begin at 10 million dollars, 10 million dollars.” The curtain was lifted on the first box to reveal a young, lean blonde man in a hockey jersey and a muzzle. He looked at the buyers with scorn, struggling against his bonds with immense strength. There was sheer murder in his eyes. The auctioneer pressed a button to shock the young man into submission, and it took quite an amount of voltage to do it.

The Russian Mafiya raised their cards. “Ten point five million from table 3...” The auction started vigorously, as another table raised their bid as well. “Eleven million from the lady at table 7...”

Shauna had seen enough and was slowly making her way to the warehouse.

Once all of the potential buyers stepped into the building, the doors would be closed and then guarded by what seemed to be armed guards. While where he sat was considered poorly decorated, one could see that the main attraction was given a rather nice spruce up, his grey eyes scanning over it discerningly. A small smirk would form upon his lips as he took his seat with Jason next to him, likely exicted about the potential auction that they were about to bear witness. He was however disappointed by the lack of selection as only three would be rather slim pickings, and he would prefer not to throw all of his money on a worthless metahuman. Still, he kept what remained of his face visible in a perfect mask, lips in a smirk and eyes scanning over the first example of the metahumans. "I doubt they will be selling root beer." Travis said lowly to his sibling.

Murder was within his eyes and with a scan of his mind, Travis could tell that he was feral in mind, scared and something about him suggested that his transformation unsettled his psyche. The auction began and so he would have to jump into this, raising his card and noting that he would place around thirty million upon the metahuman. Not that he planned to lose either way, as ascertaining a metahuman would be easy enough with his resources and with Gamma’s capabilities.

The doors closed, and men who looked like they had sprung out of a spy movie with Russian mafia and back room poker games moved in front of them. This excited Jason even more, as it was all but a game to him. Unfortunately, it was a game without root beer, and this disappointed him greatly. The fizzing brown elixir was to the drink realm what potato chips were to food; that being a God among ants. Even so, this did not mean he was not open to “trying new things”, and what place would be a better place to do so than at an auction to purchase Metahumans? Signaling a waitress walking by, Jason flashed her his most endearing smile, extending his hand for a glass of champagne.This would be his first experience with any form of alcohol.

Upon receiving the glass, he consumed a tentative sip; it was sweet and highly bubbly. Nowhere near as good as root beer, but not bad either. He drank a little more-at least, he intended to. Within moments the glass was drained, and he left with nothing but a fizzing tongue and a newfound delight. That is, however, until he developed the hiccups. The bane of the diaphragm struck yet again.

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Vegail was amused by the security precautions being taken by these people; armed guards at the doors. How sweet. It was unlikely to keep out any major force that wished to come through the entrances. Then again, it could just as likely be to keep the patrons inside. Actually, that seemed far more likely, and entertained him even further. As if mere humans could attempt to resist him. That was the whole point of his attending this auction, and obtaining the DNA of the Metahumans gathered. No one should ever think of these people as “mere humans”, and when he accomplished his goals, no one ever would again.

Michael, through Lucius, set out to see what other security measures were in place here. It was by doing this that he discovered the presence of another AI system, one he had previously encountered. Through the system, he sent out an image of his mask, to be seen if chosen by the operator of the other system, one dubbed “EVE”. If he were to accept it, the message would indicate that Vegail was at the auction, and one could conclude that he was also here to gather genetic material from these beings, known by society as “Metahumans.”

And with that message, Vegail raised his card, signaling his offer of thirty million, five hundred thousand dollars, and then a million higher, when a woman with a thick Swedish accent attempted to bid higher than he.