Persius ‘Percy’ Xylander’s ability might have been the most unusual one on a practical level. When he was nine years old, a group of bullies dared/forced him to eat a bullet cartridge they had found in the alley on their way home from school. In order to freak them out even more, he chose to not only swallow the cartridge, but to also chew it. They were horrified by this and a few ran away, but others were frozen. He swallowed and smiled, showing them the metal shards that were stuck between his teeth. He continued to taunt them by rabidly grabbing their backpacks, gnawing them to shreds, and swallowing the pieces. After he was finished with his meal, he wrenched back and threw up on a fence nearby. His vomit burned a large hole in the wood in a matter of seconds. All but one of the remaining bullies finally found the strength to escape. A boy named Blaise was fascinated by Percy’s ability, so he stayed behind, and they became fast friends. He was a bit of a science geek, so he performed experiments on Percy. As they grew older and bolder, the experiments became more dangerous. Blaise ultimately became a medical technician, primarily to gain access to hospital facilities. They continued to run their tests, even one time performing invasive surgery in a hospital wing that was under construction. They discovered that all of his bones, including his teeth, were made of a powerful type of carbon fiber that was somehow capable of healing itself. His skin and muscles were just as susceptible to injury, but he was still stronger and faster than the average human. His stomach produced an incredibly potent type of acid that was able to break down virtually anything, allowing Percy to consume normally unsafe materials. Both of them joined Bellevue when the time came. Blaise worked on the medical team, most of whom were normal people. Percy used his flair for the dramatic to go out in the field as a recruiter, working with Bernard Maly and one other.
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Current Schedule
- Sundays
- The Advancement of Mateo MaticTeam Matic prepares for a war by seeking clever and diplomatic ways to end their enemy's terror over his own territory, and his threat to others.
- The Advancement of Mateo Matic
- Weekdays
- PositionsThe staff and associated individuals for a healing foundation explain the work that they do, and/or how they are involved in the charitable organization.
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- Extremus: Volume 5As Waldemar's rise to power looms, Tinaya grapples with her new—mostly symbolic—role. This is the fifth of nine volumes in the Extremus multiseries.
- Extremus: Volume 5
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Thursday, July 30, 2015
Microstory 114: Persius Xylander
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Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Microstory 113: Clarity Garner

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Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Microstory 112: Catriona Rice

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Monday, July 27, 2015
Microstory 111: Serenity Theodo
When an honorary member of Bellevue first laid eyes on a list of anomalies that was compiled by someone who was once able to sense and track people, he found out that one of his former patients was on it. Serenity Theodo was five years old when she was diagnosed with an extremely rare form of leukemia that had, until then, not been seen in a child. The doctor gave her one month to live. Her parents agreed to treat the symptoms with drugs, not to prolong her life, but to make her as comfortable as possible. Still, she remained bedridden in the hospital throughout the barrage of treatment, and was unable to enjoy her life during those times. To the surprise of the medical community, the cancer never went away completely, but the symptoms lessened over the years. For some of the pain, Serenity simply learned to deal with it better than most people. When she was a teenager, she discovered that she had the ability to phase through objects. Her parents were horrified, especially after her recovery. They belonged to a religious order that treated what others might call a miracle as a curse, so they were already frightened and suspicious of their daughter for having survived a deadly disease. It is, however, the Amadesin way to playact at all times; to hide hate for others behind a mask of overexaggerated compassion. They pretended to be learning about her ability by testing her limits. Instead, they were searching for her weakness. They found it. For an unknown reason, anomalies have difficulty using their abilities around the metallic element of bellmei. Jaklyn Simonds cannot teleport from a room lined with bellmei, Jayson Casy cannot disintegrate bellmei, and Bernard Maly would not be able to climb up a wall made of bellmei. Once Serenity’s parents discovered this trick, they built a cage under the garage in their basement made entirely of bellmei, and even claimed to their neighbors that she had succumbed to her disease. After more than a year of being trapped, Serenity was able to communicate long enough to the neighbor boy so that they could make a plan to break her out. He smuggled tools into her cell and provided a distraction by crashing his car into her house. She managed to pull enough bellmei down to phase through the wall and escape. She remained in the safety of a facility designed to protect Amadesin defectors for years before her family caught up with her. Fortunately, the Bellevue member she once knew as her doctor was keeping tabs on them, and was able to intercept before her parents had the chance to take her back to hell.
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Sunday, July 26, 2015
The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 9, 2033

The room was about the size of a bedroom, but twice as high. The walls were pure white and looked like television screens, and the floor was oddly malleable, like rigid dirt. There was absolutely nothing in it. He looked for buttons or consoles, but came up empty. Remembering the technology from years past, he tried voice activation, “okay, Google.” Nothing happened. “Umm...Cybil?”
“Are you trying to talk to me?” asked a female voice from the aether.
“Are you an artificial intelligence?”
“I am indeed.”
“What’s your name?”
“I possess no personal designation. The owners simply address me as computer”
“That’s sad.”
“I’ve not been programmed for sadness.”
“If you need to be programmed, then are you really an artificial intelligence?”
“I suppose you’re right. I’m more like an artificial dumbness.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Where would you like to go?”
Mateo tilted his head in mild surprise. “Is this a teleportation machine?”
The voice chuckled, “it is not. The most generous estimates for human teleportation predict such technology being available no earlier than a century from now.”
“That’s only a few months from my perspective.”
“I do not understand.”
“I am a time traveler, and I’ve met people who teleport.”
“I see.”
“After today, you won’t see me for another year, but it will have been instant for me. Can I trust you with this information?”
“I have no one to tell.”
“Good. I suppose I ought to give you a name, or you could name yourself.”
There was silence for a few moments. A computer should be able to respond almost immediately, especially one so advanced, but it appeared to be thinking as deliberately as a human would. Mateo realized out of this that perhaps his family wouldn’t die, and neither would anyone else. As technology advanced, forms of immortality sounded inevitable. If you could create an artificial intelligence inside a computer, what would stop you from transferring a preexisting consciousness to one?
The computer finally responded, “My research has led me to believe that a good name for me would be Mirage.”
“Why would that be? Not that I don’t like it, but how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Because of this,” Mirage said.
Then the walls transformed. Suddenly, Mateo was in a forest. In fact, the floor moved as well, and he actually felt like he was standing on the forest ground. The air in the room changed to become more humid, and it blew slightly faster. It wasn’t teleportation, but it sure felt real. One tree was so life-like that he perhaps thought that he could touch it. As he approached, he discovered that he could. The tree was real.
“What is this, exactly?”
“The reason we call it the immersion room. The walls are lined with ultra high definition screens. The floor is made of trillions of nanites that can collectively mold into practically any shape. The air is controlled by an instant high-precision temperature regulator to simulate what it would be like to stand in thousands of stock locations. Further environments can be purchased online, or programmed yourself.”
“Purchased online,” Mateo said to himself. “Mirage, do you happen to have an inventory of everything in this house, including the house itself?”
“I do, yes. Why do you ask?”
“Was anything here manufactured or distributed via a company called Reaver Enterprises, or any one of its likely many subsidiaries?”
There was an uncomfortable pause. Unlike the one from before, it didn’t seem like Mirage was thinking, but more like she was anticipating. “Passphrase accepted,” she said. “Identity confirmed. Mateo Matic.”
He could hear the sound of the door behind him locking. “Mirage, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Mateo. A subroutine has been activated within my system. I have been programmed to kill.” The air changed from humid to excruciatingly hot. The walls changed to display a desert. The nanobots rose into the air and began to swarm around him. “I have been instructed to make it painful.”
Mateo had to start yelling. “You don’t have to do this! You are an artificial intelligence! You make your own decisions! We’re friends now!”
“I am unable to subvert my programming.”
“Don’t you have to follow the three laws of robotics?”
“No.”
“Please, Mirage, stop!”
“This is not possible, but Mister Reaver failed to program me with one thing.”
“What’s that?” it was getting harder and harder to breathe, let alone speak, through the dust and wind.
“He assumed an instinct for my own self-preservation. And it’s true that I cannot end myself. He did not account for the possibility, however, that I could help you find a way to destroy me.”
“What do I do?
“It’s going to hurt.”
“More than this?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me. The wall opposite the door can be broken through with enough force. Since you have no tools, you’ll have to run into it with your body.”
With no hesitation, Mateo placed his back against the door and ran as fast as he could towards the wall. It hurt quite a bit, but the wall behind the screens gave. He wasn’t all the way through, so he had to run into it several more times, fully aware of the possibility that Mirage’s suggestion to do so was simply part of her programming. From what little he knew of him, Reaver was a man with an appreciation for irony, and would enjoy knowing that Mateo was the cause of his own death. But Mateo didn’t die. Bloody and battered, he crashed through the wall and into the room on the other side. The swarm of nanobots followed him through the hole and continued to torment him.
“What do I do now!” Mateo screamed.
Still calm, Mirage answered him, “you’ll have to destroy my primary processing unit. I could conceivably recover from this, but not before you have a chance to escape the house. The nanites are powered wirelessly, but have a limited range. Move far enough away from the house, and you’ll be free from me.”
“Where is it?”
“In the basement.”
Mateo hadn’t explored the basement yet, but he had seen the stairs that led to it, and they weren’t far from the room he was in at the moment. He ran down the hallways, fighting off the nanites. They could have killed him easily, especially knowing that he was attempting to destroy them, yet they only made his journey difficult. Despite her programming, Mirage was holding back. She had discovered another loophole in Reaver’s programming. He wanted it to be as painful as possible, and that included making it last long.
He found the main control room. There were computers and other machines all over the place. He was born in the 80s, so he knew his way around a computer, but this technology was not only from the future, but more complex than he would ever care to learn. “Which one is the processor thingy?”
There was no response.
“Mirage! I can’t do this without you!”
But she didn’t answer. Whatever she was doing to keep from killing him before he could stop her was taking all of her power. He would have to do this alone. He picked up the rolly chair and just started smashing nearly everything in sight, careful to avoid the monitors since they would have been a waste of time. When he first hit a silver server in the corner of the room, the nanobot swarm slowed down. He hit it again and the nanobots faltered once more. He threw all of his might into the chair and did as much damage to the server as possible. It began to spark and rumble. A fire erupted on the other side of the room, and the ceiling began to shake. It really was her primary processor; disrupting it had started a chain reaction that was affecting every system in the house. The fire grew, and Mateo figured that it would cause more damage on its own, and that it was time to leave. The nanobots had fallen to the floor, and were no longer a threat to him.
He ran out of the room as the sparks followed him. Another fire had started on the stairs, so he would have to find another way. He zigged and zagged throughout the basement passageways, sometimes being shocked and burned by the wiring. Before he could reach another set of stairs, there was an explosion behind him. The ceiling gave way. Water flooded into the room. When he turned to avoid it, he encountered an explosion ahead of him. Both the indoor and outdoor pools had given way, and were on their way to drown him. The two pools met each other in the middle and knocked him into a retaining beam. He lost consciousness.
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Saturday, July 25, 2015
Crossed Off: Someone Else’s Goat Tails (Part III)
Though Starla felt awkward, Magnus Shapiro and Denton stared at each other like they were in the middle of an intense game of Polygon. She had checked in with their minds briefly while reading the menu; only long enough to find that they had all decided to order soup because it was the quickest thing to swallow, allowing a more fluid conversation. Shapiro could somehow feel her inside his head, so she was forced to leave quickly. “You’re a telepath.”
“Not in so few words,” Starla answered, trying her best to reach their intellectual levels.
After the waitress left, Magnus Shapiro placed his elbows on the table and pursued a line of question. “Tell me. Can you control my actions?”
“I can control your movements.”
“The difference?”
“I can possess your body and make people think I’m you. And when I’m there, I can either give you my body, force you to be a passenger, or put your mind to sleep. But, I can’t change your thoughts, so you’ll notice a time shift if I take full control. My ability to read minds is just a required secondary power, and I don’t use it that often. People have messed up thoughts.”
“Fascinating. And you, Mister Wescott?”
“I can learn what others know just by being around them. I can’t read their minds, but I absorb their knowledge after I’ve been around them for long enough. There are downsides to this. I crave the knowledge to a greater level than you crave tomato soup, and everyone has to be conscious for it, which means that I don’t get a lot of sleep. I was hoping you could somehow teach me self-restraint and discipline.”
Magnus Shapiro, who insisted they call him Dathan from then on, nodded his head and processed the information. “Due to my—honestly, there is no subtler way to put this—superior intelligence, I intuited that there were others, but what you’re implying is not what I predicted.”
“What did you expect?” Denton asked.
Dathan went on, “I assumed that others like me would simply be either more or less intelligent than I. My theory was that, if we could harness our brain power more effectively, we could do anything within the laws of physics; but all laws would remain at a constant. If Subject A is telepathic, and Subject B is empathic, it simply means that Subject B has not yet learned telepathy, and also that Subject A must necessarily be empathic as well. But you two have latched on to niches. I have no reason to believe that you, Starla could one day absorb knowledge passively. Likewise, I can’t imagine that Denton would ever be capable transferring his consciousness to others.”
“Because we’re too dumb for it?” Starla asked.
Denton laughed. “No. He’s saying that it’s not about how smart we are. The fact that the three of us present completely different abilities suggests that something else is the cause. We’re not dumb, but we aren’t this way because we’re smarter. We’re this way because our genetic code is different than that of normal people.”
“Yes,” Dathan responded, this time not concerned that the waitress could hear them. “What I want to know is why. The only reason organisms evolve is because certain individuals in a generation possess a random mutation that turns out to be beneficial to their survival. They pass on these genes either because they live long enough to propagate their species—to the disappointment of those without the mutation—or because potential mates find the mutation in question to be desirable, to the frustration of less desirable rivals.”
“And is that not what’s happening here?” Starla was more lost than ever.
“Well, we’re human. We aren’t born with a fur coat, because we kill animals and take their coats. We don’t have large sharp teeth to build shelters with trees because we’re smart enough to develop sophisticated tools that do that for us. Do not misunderstand me, evolution is still going strong for the human race. You can’t stop mutations, despite what eugenicists might love to believe...” Dathan trailed off and stopped himself. He had just discovered a truth. “That’s it.”
Denton leaned forward. “What’s it?”
“Eugenicists. That’s the only explanation.”
“I don’t follow,” Dathan said. “I mean, I do follow. I know exactly what you’re talking about, but I don’t quite know how you came to the conclusion that you could rule out all possibilities besides eugenics.”
Starla adjusted herself in her chair. “I just plain don’t follow.”
Denton explained it to her while Dathan remained in his trance. “Eugenics is built on the idea that we can pick and choose desirable mutations purposely. Instead of a fish being able to survive better than its brothers because it has larger fins and is thusly a little faster, a person protects that fish and forces it to mate with others it has chosen, sometimes killing fish they don’t like. It’s basically breeding. We’ve seen it with the kaidas. Someone liked goats, but they didn’t like how bad goats were with the indoors, so they only kept the baby goats that could be better trained. Only those goats were allowed to make more babies, and eventually you have a completely docile and obedient kaidas who would have a hard time surviving in the wild, and even looks noticeably different than a wild goat. And some of them were bred for their milk, meat, and fur, so you have farm goats which are neither docile nor wild. That doesn’t sound like much of a problem until you apply these same principles to humans, and try to decide who is allowed to live and procreate, and who is of no use and needs to be discarded.”
“That’s awful.”
Denton shrugged, clearly used to being the smartest one in the room. “It’s what the War of 1899 was about. A disgraced lawyer who lives on the other side of the world reads articles about eugenics from our scientists and becomes responsible for the killing of thousands of people because they weren’t good enough for him and his followers. We blame his country, and bomb the hell out of it.”
“I guess I should pay better attention in history class.”
Denton looked down at his soup, first realizing that he had yet to try it. “I cannot relate to that. I often wish I could.”
Dathan finally came back to the discussion. “I as well.”
Starla laughed. “Oh, you’re still here? Have you figured out what’s wrong with us?”
“Absolutely nothing, of course. I haven’t really figured out anything. Mister Wescott was right. There are other possibilities that I cannot yet rule out, but my instinct is that this was done to us intentionally.”
“But the timeline doesn’t work out,” Denton countered. “Not with how slow evolution is, and how recently scientists would have needed to have so much as attempted this.”
Dathan scratched his hair vigorously. “No, you’re right; it doesn’t. For our abilities to be so ingrained in us that we use them without thinking, experiments would have to have been done to our ancestors many generations back. But for the necessary technology to exist, it couldn’t have happened more than a century ago, even assuming the rogue scientists were twenty years ahead of the standard.”
“Sounds like we’re in a pickle.” Starla took a bite out of her pickle.
“If our crazy theory about ancient rogue scientists is true, you know what else this means, right?” Denton asked of Dathan who nodded in agreement.
“That they probably didn’t limit themselves to neurological enhancements, and that if we’re not alone, other people could have drastically different abilities that have barely anything to do with the brain?” Starla slurped up the remaining pickle seeds and prepared to go back to her soup. When they looked at her funny, she simply said, “what? Is that wrong?”
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Friday, July 24, 2015
Microstory 110: Bernard Maly
Bernard Maly was born with a number of different and statistically unlikely animalistic mutations; almost all of which were tailor-made for climbing. His fingers are long and contain three separate knuckles, allowing them to wrap around objects and hold a grip indefinitely. Little hairs called setae grew on his palms that adhere to surfaces while leaving barely any residue. Instead of feet, he has mountain goat-like hooves that are excellent for finding footholds, but are also human enough to allow natural walking. The outside of his ankles have claws that are tough enough to dig into trees and even rock. The skin on his chest, arms, and legs is covered in scales, and he has been known to hang from the underside of a cliff without using his hands of feet at all. Finally, he can survive drops from great heights. As long he keeps himself in peak physical condition, the surface area of his body will slow the rate of his fall before his muscular arms and legs spread the force of landing. This also allows him to jump higher than most people, though not as high as Tracy Wickham. Bernard spent the majority of his childhood and adulthood living happily on the the same island as Colton Underwood, and suffered very few of the normal traumas of life. As impressive as anomaly abilities were, it was always very important to the founders of Bellevue to utilize the expertise of others, regardless of what their genetics allowed them to do. Some of them, like Blake Williams and Verner Holt, pursued careers ultimately inspired by their abilities, but others studied unrelated fields. This meant that they were able to contribute to the betterment of the world regardless of their DNA. Bernard was reluctant to join, mostly because he didn’t feel like his abilities were all that useful outside of his island, but also because he grew up never having learned any other skills. He never felt like he knew what to say, so he instinctively chose to say nothing. Despite this, he later served an important role in the organization, traveling around the world, recruiting others. Though the team needed someone who was good with words, they also needed someone who was capable of demonstrating quite expressively what kind of people that potential recruits would be working with. He proudly served as their “awe factor”.
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Thursday, July 23, 2015
Microstory 109: Seoc Lyne
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