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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 28, 2017 23:14:10 GMT -5
The man who had once been Jon Osterman - and had once been a man, in fact - vanished abruptly in New York and in a blinding halo of blue light appeared on the surface of Antarctica.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 28, 2017 23:24:52 GMT -5
Bubastis stumbled to her feet from where she had been curled up in front of the fireplace and growled, but Adrian turned around calmly with a mug of tea in his hands.
“I might have guessed you wouldn’t use the door,” he said, smiling as he set the mug on the mantle. “Jon. It’s so good to have you.”
He approached him with his arms spread, but on actually reaching Jon, Adrian extended his hand instead. Jon was nude- Adrian was aware that this was a possibility, but being confronted with the evidence made a welcoming embrace seem a bit too forward.
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 28, 2017 23:35:08 GMT -5
"Adrian," Jon intoned, and then, upon seeing his hand held out, reached out and took it. It took Jon only a matter of seconds to remember how to grip someone's hand and shake it, but the sensation that he was pulling himself over a threshold he normally did not cross was palpable in that short time. Jon had flashes of another, an older Adrian, with a different hand entirely, but he was accustomed to seeing time like this. It grew more and more difficult to react with surprise, but Jon's method of viewing time was not quite precognition, either.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 28, 2017 23:56:40 GMT -5
It wasn't the first time they'd shaken hands, but at least this time Adrian knew to anticipate the faintly staticky feeling that came with it. The first time was nearly thirteen years earlier, but neither of them had appeared to age. Jon, of course, couldn't, but Adrian, at 36, was only broader and more settled-looking, with somewhat experimentally longer hair, than he had been at 23.
"I would offer you a jacket or something, but I imagine this doesn't make much difference to you, eh?"
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 28, 2017 23:57:21 GMT -5
"If it made a difference, I would have come wearing a jacket already," said Jon, with the faintest hint of a smile.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 29, 2017 0:05:06 GMT -5
Adrian, for his part, was wearing a sweater.
"I forget- do you still drink? I don't tend to myself, but I have a decent selection on hand for entertaining. We anticipate having a lot of traffic in and out of here..."
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 29, 2017 0:10:17 GMT -5
He shook his head.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 29, 2017 0:22:11 GMT -5
"Right," he said. "Pardon my hospitality- hard habit to break."
He was smiling as he said this, and he gestured for Jon to sit, though he wasn't sure if Jon needed that either.
"I, er, apologize for keeping you in the dark for so long," he said, turning to pick up his tea. "I expect you already knew, of course."
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 29, 2017 1:00:03 GMT -5
"It was obvious, more or less," Jon conceded. "But you were entitled to your privacy."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 29, 2017 1:13:43 GMT -5
"Even after all the work I did with my speech patterns?" Adrian asked wryly. "I guess I'm not as good at this as I thought."
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 29, 2017 13:58:40 GMT -5
"You cannot change the physical contours of your larynx," Jon pointed out impassively. "May I approach your cat, or will I frighten her?"
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 29, 2017 14:06:23 GMT -5
"That's Bubastis," Adrian said. He bent to pat her and urge her toward Jon, which she did with some reluctance. "She's a genetically modified lynx. Mostly lynx, at any rate. Genetic manipulation is advancing uncommonly fast these days, and that's mostly because of you."
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 29, 2017 14:13:46 GMT -5
"Yes, I know," said Jon, with a faint echo of a laugh betraying what was left of his modesty, though to look at him one might think he had none.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Dec 29, 2017 14:22:37 GMT -5
"Unfortunately," he added, watching Bubastis tentatively cuddle against Jon's knee, "the ability to control its ethical usage hasn't been advancing quite as quickly, but one can only hope."
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Post by Jon Osterman on Dec 29, 2017 14:30:11 GMT -5
Jon patted the animal on the head with his palm. "One can always do more than hope. Or, perhaps it is more truthful to say that we can."
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