2012-09-17 - Right or Wrong

The twins are back to work. They have three children, and now a fourth. They want five. They just like the number. Then, they will break out Dollmaker. That is the plan in either case, and right now, Phyre is working on their current target. Kol is look-out this time. He is currently sitting on a bench in a respectable part of the town. The playground is practically on the sidewalk, a short fence seperating it from from the road access.

Kol wears his Goth clothes to please his sister, and is currently working on a laptop. The glow from the laptop illuminates his face a little eeriely, as it is now dark and the lamp lights mostly shine on the sidewalk and road.

It is past curfew for those under eighteen in Metropolis, as it is after dark. Especially with the strange disappearances happening again! Not that it would likely stop Conner or Kon-El from moving about the city freely. The traffic is very light in this part of the city.

Conner's eighteen anyway, and Superboy besides. Not that you could really tell that from the mild mannered young man current dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans. Glasses complete the look. There's almost a hipster vibe, but he's far too well groomed. He looks this way and that, constantly surveying his surroundings. Not unusual for someone traveling alone while disappearances are going on.

Kol is tapping away rapidly, perhaps a little too fast at his laptop. However, as Conner gets closer to the park, the tapping on the keys slow, and then finally halt. Eyes of the palest blue look up from the laptop screen, appearing white without heightened senses in the glare of light. Eyes blink, and a quiet, even voice says, "Good evening."

"Aren't you a little young to be out here?" Conner wonders of the figure, starting to approach, though he's trying to get some idea of the figure's age. "You know about the curfew, right?" he asks, his own eyes a surprisingly piercing blue. He looks to the laptop, and then back to the figure, examining them quietly.

"Young?" A slight tilt of his head in an eerie manner. But his head then straightens and he shakes his head slightly, "No, I do not know of the curfew." Laptop looks normal, but with a mobile broadband. Unless you can detect a mobile broadband device that is meant to hack other networks...it looks normal. He seems to wait patiently for an explaination, while he sits upon the bench.

"Anyone under 18's meant to be inside. There's been some kidnappings going on," Conner says. He's not confrontational about it, just seeming to be rather concerned for the ambiguously aged figure's safety. "Interesting outfit." Then again, what he's wearing was only really fashionable some time in the early 90s, and he's wearing it wrong anyway. Less Kurt Cobain, more Al Borland.

Kol appears thoughtful, then finally nods, "I am not under eighteen." Then as a seperate sentence, "Thank you, my sister made them. She is very creative," seeming to praise his sister even if he still speaks in an even tone. He moves to shut his laptop down and close the lid. "Are kidnappings bad?" What an odd question!

Conner looks surprised by the question. "Yeah," he says. "I mean, why wouldn't they be? It's taking someone against their will away from their home. These are kids, which makes it even worse."

"But what if they are taken by someone that cares for them, is it bad then?" Kol does not appear argumentive, but asking a geniune question about the situation. He does not look away from Conner. Not that Kol particularly cares for them, but Phyre does, and of course the Dollmaker improves them. So it's not bad, right? Conner would likely be thankful not to know the doll-like boy's internal thoughts.

"Like it if it's a parent kidnapping the kid or something?" Conner asks. "It's... well, it's more complicated then, and messier, but... it's still taking a kid from their home." He crosses his arms, looking thoughtful. "If they really had the kid's best interest at heart, they wouldn't /have/ to take them."

Now that derailed Kol a bit mentally. The two simply don't. Therefore they are in the wrong. Kol can easily link the path of logic. But the problem is derailing him from his choosen path. That would take his sister. He nods, "Understood." And the way he says it, it really does sound like he understands. But will he apply it? Not at this point in time. He lifts a backpack that was hidden in the shadows of the bench and puts his laptop within it. His sister has already cybernetically contacted him to report she has the child in the sewers for their adventure! He will have to make sure his sister does not get lost.

"I must be departing." Kol shoulders his bag and walks to the short fench. He places one hand on it, and easily leaps over it. Fingers peek from the overly long sleeve, revealing the strange, doll-like joints briefly. Something makes Kol pause though, "What if it was in the kidnapper's best interest? They have no other path in front of them? Are they in the wrong still?"

"There is /always/ another path," Conner says. He doesn't have the telescopic vision of his relatives, but he can see that something's odd about those fingers, even in the dark. "Acting only in your own interest is just selfish. It's not an excuse. Sometimes it's the opposite."

"The opposite?" Kol is quiet and still, inhumanly so. But he appears to be looking at you and listening, waiting for your response. Whatever is going on with the strange young man, whatever Conner says is not going in one ear and then out the other.

"Alright... let's say you've got money, lots of it. I've got money but I want more. I take your money from you, by force, rough you up a bit if you fight back, walk off with your money. Things are better for /me/, but they're not really better for you, are they?" Conner wonders. "And forcefully taking what I wanted, and injurying you in the process, that's two bad things."

A nod at that, as a concept that escaped Kol is explained to him. Bad not in the sensation of pain or fear, but bad as in morally wrong. "I understand. Thank you for the explaination." He then says, "I must leave now. My sister is waiting for me." He then moves to walk away, his expression though on the blank side, still thoughtful. He will be mulling over Conner's words for a long time to come.

"Get home! It's dangerous out," Conner calls after the departing figure, and then continues on his way. Is he just wandering around enforcing curfew?

There is no response, and soon enough, the figure turns a corner and is out of sight. As Conner walks down the street, he finds himself two blocks down when he hears someone calling out, "Robby?! Robby, get in here! Robby?!" The sounds get more and more panicked as the woman calls for someone named Robby, till it is being screamed. Neighbors are coming out of their homes, and soon...someone is calling the police. A child was taken from their own backyard.

The flannel shirt doesn't last long at the panicked screaming, and Superboy is there to hear the panicked mother, and to fly around, trying to find the missing child.

The mother is in a frenzy, "Please find my baby, please! I shouldn't have let him play outside...he was just in the back yard! I thought he would be safe in the yard! He's only ten years old, and he has blonde hair," she sobs. "Please." A heart wrenching moment most likely for poor Superboy.

As you search around and around, there is no little boy with blonde hair about, not even that young man Kol you saw before. But nearby the house, you do find a man's hold that isn't on quite right. And as all the Super Family knows, the sewer piping in Metropolis has lead in it. Damn Lex Luthor, got to be his fault!

Conner's seen the sewer plans too, searching them alone could take forever, and still might not bear any fruit, and it's too easy to forget a branch, or miss a turn. It's with heavy heart that Superboy returns to tell the mother that he's lost track of the boy. He promises that the boy will be found, her panick and concern eating away at him. The sad news, but firm promise given, he flies to the nearest police station, offering his assistance, and telling them about the loose manhole cover, that detail having been withheld from the grief-stricken mother.

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