<strong>Myriad, NYC</strong><br/><br/>The data that came back a short while after one of Valerie's form had finished typing. The image showing on the screen was an older picture, the guy had a bit of a more lumberjack beard in that one, amidst snow field of some sort it seemed, but the data seemed to only be a year or two old.<br/><br/><em>Thomas Blackthorn, a professor of biochemistry and a genius at the age of 28 had completed two different thesis on the subject of human advancement, and was heading for a placement at the top laboratories in the country each competing for his services when a freak incident robbed him of his fiancee and young son. Tragedy seemed to splinter the genius mind but he made a fortune with his patents and discoveries still along the year, but growing increasingly cold in personality, and more reluctant to face the public, Mr. Blackthorn's assets were combined to form the basis of what would be a private research company utilizing his talent as well as discoveries in pursuit of the lofty goal he set back in his earlier years. Human advancement project, with a dedication to his dead wife and son.</em><br/><br/>As for the actual research papers, it seemed to be more technical data was available than 'readable translation of their contents', but what little was commented it seemed the man's creations started off as ways to improve the quality of life for those challenged by birth-defects or injuries and rising to enhancement for athletes and such, to replacements for destroyed tissue, and even to reanimation of necrotic tissue. A bad movie joke about zombies might have followed, but apparently the guy had been also searching for ways to reverse permanent damage, regrow nerves and muscles.<br/><br/>Then there were denied claims that he was involved with experimenting on metahuman tissue, and a large splash claiming he was modern day Frankenstein, the sensational magazine that had published that article was a subject of another article.<br/><br/>Arson, and 26 people dead, including the company president.<br/><br/><strong>Myriad (Stella), At the Motel</strong><br/><br/>The man stared at 'Stella' seriously, eyes narrowed at her as he spoke up in a very serious fashion. "I am simply suggesting you make your way back to your car, and leave, before you get involved with far more than you would want to. There's a good saying. Let sleeping dogs lie. Trust me, you don't want to wake this one up." He said in a snarling tone of voice, glaring at her.<br/><br/>A normal person might have wet themselves, there was something outright malicious about this man, something that seemed almost inhumane, but Stella's mind held. Metahumans were cut from a strong branch, afterall.<br/><br/>"As for the gun, with the kind of strange and dangerous world we live in these days, its reasonable to get a gun. I got a permit and I got a reason for being here. Now can you say the same if I call the police and they have to arrest you for this 'one woman protest' you are staging?" He looked at her coldly like an insect under a microscope.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Myriad as a whole is unaffected by the fear effect, and the connection she has 'returns' the 2nd round, so a few seconds after it was halted it resumes again, but it was there, unquestionably present fo ra moment when they weren't ready for it.</div></div>