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speedy_steve (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} speedy_steve) wrote,@ 2008-08-25 21:55:00 |
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Though we are not now ....
[Players only. Takes place recently.]
It is a bright sunlit day in late summer on the campus of the prestigious University of Chicago. A lone runner races around the practice track in one of the Universities extensive athletic facilities. Clearly on the edge of exhaustion, the figure slows to a walk, panting and trying to cool down. After a long minute of walking back and forth, the figure approaches a nearby bench.
[Players only. Takes place recently.]
It is a bright sunlit day in late summer on the campus of the prestigious University of Chicago. A lone runner races around the practice track in one of the Universities extensive athletic facilities. Clearly on the edge of exhaustion, the figure slows to a walk, panting and trying to cool down. After a long minute of walking back and forth, the figure approaches a nearby bench.
Picking up his towel from the bench, physics professor Steve Sandvoss mops at the steady stream of sweat on his flushed face. Sagging to sit on the bench, Steve picks up his water bottle and takes a drink. There is no longer any question of it in his mind. After over and hour of walking, running, and hoping, Steve faces an uncomfortable truth: his powers are gone, and will likely never come back. No longer would he be able to navigate the entire city in mere minutes, or go from being in bed to being in his office in the time it would take his coworker to get dressed.
He is just a man now, and he has to make his peace with that. At least he is being spared one thing. Steve has previously believed that his own intelligence my be to a degree the result of his body's adaptation for super speed. Increased neural activity for increased reflexes and so on. He has feared that his mind might start leaking away from him, like a modern-day Charlie Gordon. There is no sign of that happening, though. Steve's grasp of matters seems to be intact, and his extensive journal entries have not suddenly become confusing to him.
Already, though, the other changes rippling through his life. He was late every day for nearly a week while getting a sense of realistic preparation and commuting times. Steve has driven more since his return than in the last year before that. Household chores and paperwork are no longer trifles to be accomplished between cups of coffee.
Steve doesn't like it. He misses his powers every day, most often in the small conveniences which they provided to him. But he doesn't need to be told about the value of life, doesn't need to see a grandmother walking with her family, or her dog. Steve doesn't need to read about mysterious heroes, or miraculous rescues. He doesn't need to remember a feeling of transcendent joy, doesn't need to see or hear the glorious light and song beneath the world of the physical universe.
Steve Sandvoss doesn't need anyone to show him the value of sacrifice, or to help him understand that what he did was the right thing. No. That sight, that understanding, these are gifts that he still possesses.
He is just a man now, and he has to make his peace with that. At least he is being spared one thing. Steve has previously believed that his own intelligence my be to a degree the result of his body's adaptation for super speed. Increased neural activity for increased reflexes and so on. He has feared that his mind might start leaking away from him, like a modern-day Charlie Gordon. There is no sign of that happening, though. Steve's grasp of matters seems to be intact, and his extensive journal entries have not suddenly become confusing to him.
Already, though, the other changes rippling through his life. He was late every day for nearly a week while getting a sense of realistic preparation and commuting times. Steve has driven more since his return than in the last year before that. Household chores and paperwork are no longer trifles to be accomplished between cups of coffee.
Steve doesn't like it. He misses his powers every day, most often in the small conveniences which they provided to him. But he doesn't need to be told about the value of life, doesn't need to see a grandmother walking with her family, or her dog. Steve doesn't need to read about mysterious heroes, or miraculous rescues. He doesn't need to remember a feeling of transcendent joy, doesn't need to see or hear the glorious light and song beneath the world of the physical universe.
Steve Sandvoss doesn't need anyone to show him the value of sacrifice, or to help him understand that what he did was the right thing. No. That sight, that understanding, these are gifts that he still possesses.
