[Sebastian Wells]

Sebastian Wells ▪ TAG ▪ NOTES

W

ith blinding streaks of lights and its blazing warmth peeking through thin layers of blind cloths covering the windows of homes, a fraction of its nimble moving luminary lights and effacing any and all trace of dark areas. The rising sun was placed in upon the horizon of the city that never sleeps-- or preferably called, New York-- begins to creep behind the immense, towering buildings and replace the glowing appearances of brightly lit street lights, and small lamps and such indoors of offices working late hours, into its own as the sweeping speed of zooming and beeping cars blanketing the blacken roads, already the inhabits of the land drove to their destinations; however, no matter how much the blazing sun strike down upon one particular face, Sebastian's snores and shut eyes still lingers.

His bare, brown skin was occupied with a couple of delicate hands warping themselves around him as they too dazed and ignore the sunny morning lights. That is until the blasting vibrating noises of the host's house phones pound into the ears into one of the guests as their body takes a startling leap from the mattress and bump into the others, waking them too in the same patterning jolt. However, still, Sebastian remain silent. Their eyes swift at one another confuse and daze at the sudden vibrations, but slowly their minds pop open into conscience to their surroundings when one of the ladies crawl over the other three to grip a single bottle and slither from the sheets of the bed and out of the room without a huff of a word. As if feeling the coldness of a spotless of an area was enough to blend into a nightmare, Sebastian finally wakes up and glare down at his dwindling number of bedroom guests begins to remove themselves of his view and out the door.

Of course. Not even a smooch of goodbyes from them. Not even this one dude left is enough to satisfy him. Obviously vexed at how his morning become to be, Sebastian slaps and use a mighty hand to pull down his circle face grunting and moaning his still tiresome eyes hoping to, at least, try to build up a working brain so that he could get up from the sinking mattress. It took ages, but his massive body manages to accept its orders and dip a single toe down the cold floor, shivering from the bottom down until he gets used to it and pace across the room near his windows, then fling open the curtains allowing every drop of sunlight to gain entrance into his room. The view wasn't anything special: the flowing river of the glamorous city sweeping by under a bridge, towering castles of building in tight rows, and the lustful garden of wildlife parking outside his view. Like said before, nothing special; hell, this is his penthouse rather than his actual house somewhere else for his own private company.

Returning to his bed he and gathers a robe to travel with, Sebastian loom over the single male to which make him quickly spirit over to a flower pot, run back over to the sleeping guy, and pour leftover steam water on his face and purposely drop the pot on the guest. "Hey, man," Sebastian respond, taking the angry glare of the person with a grain of salt, "Either ya want another pot across ya to face, I suggest ya get the fuck out of my bed." Instantly, the man obeys the much taller and stronger gentleman, thus he gathers his own clothes scattering across the floor and sink away from the room, but without mumbling harsh words under his breath. Sebastian notice this and swiftly reach his arm around the surprise man's neck, lowering his mouth near the scared man's ear, and softly whisper into it, "I'm sorry what was that? I thought I heard you called me a fat ass? Is that what you said?" Clearly fearing life itself, the nervous guy struggle then heavily swallows his tongue and shakes his head, it was a breath of relief when the muscular metahuman release his grip from his neck, though the slap of the butt was uncalled for at the end.

"The money's on the table! Now get out!" Sebastian roar, allowing the guy to bolt through the doors without more embarrassment needed. And with that, this left Sebastian to bake in his warm room alone in a fancy, red silk robe covering a naked body. Hm, a weird day to start the day. After leading himself to the bathroom for a quick wash off, the raucous sound of the house phone buzz once more to muster the attention of the owner to leap from the soaking shower and answer, listening to a familiar voice chatting out commands before finally returning their voice closer to the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Wells. This is--"

"I know who this is... Rowan, isn't? From The United Front? Whatda what?"

"Oh, getting quite to the point, are we?"

"I was in the middle of a shower, ya dipshit. I'm not asking again; or do you want me to face you personality again?"

"No, no! The last time was enough for us. I'm just calling that the money you owe us is due today..."

A few seconds of silence flow between the lines, thus Rowan continues. "... OK, the silence is a threat, granted. But, the big man wants his money- the thousand dollars from the dox papers on potential metahumans- saying that 'you're bleeding him dry with your damn charities', his words, not mine!"

After yet another few seconds of silence, a sharp jolt from the receiver can be heard when Sebastian offers a small cough to lift the awkwardness between the two, then his own booming voice finally speak, "Of course. Of course. Hey, how about after work we could meet up. Just me and your boys."

"...Hmm... Suuuure? I'll tell them. Remember- that's what HE said, not me!"

"OK."

"I'm innocent! Please!"

"Got it." And with that, Sebastian abruptly ended the conversation and slam down the phone, gleefully hoping for just their joyful meeting.

--A Few Hours Later--

A voyage around the city's streets is a favorable towards Sebastian as he was ostracize from the world behind the blank tint car windows covering his features and whereabouts, though his crimes was wide and known in shadows and dark corners sending his heinous murder spree out in the world but with a little sweep clean of any shreds of evidence, it's hard for those determined to place either a most wanted screenshot or a bullet through his head. In the past, maybe as he was reckless and ambitious, grinning teeth at the possibility of having a thrilling chase throughout the city, but that was in the behind him, and his mind flooded with plans and tactics in his anew appearances. Not to mention, his place tuck neatly in the law as the overseer in this sublime city! Speaking of which, arriving a block away in his car, there lies the castle of his shining victory over the inhabitants of New York: white marbles stone walls framing every archaeology walls, countless of peeking windows on every floor of the mansion-like office, four mighty and strong poles sticking out like candles on a birthday cake, and a perfectly lined stairway waiting for someone noble to sit upon its throne. Sebastian just happens to be its king.

Sliding his darkened colored tail along the tiled floor, Sebastian paints a cherry face greeting each client in every step until his position leads him ever closer to his office behind another shield doors. Well, until a rounding sound of snarls of threats can be heard across the hallways near his secretary post. Annnd it is between his secretary and some guy. Great, another way to start his day. Without hesitation, Sebastion immediately grips his fingers behind the anger guy's head and slam him on the secretary's desk, a slight crack and muffle scream follow suit at the sudden attack. Sebastian forces the now swollen, broken nose thug upwards as the two stares in familiar eyes- yep, this is one of The United Front's boys, no doubt marching over to claim their paycheck.

"I thought I told ya boss that we'll meet after work. This is troublesome for the both of us," chuckle Sebastian, witnessing droplets of blood dropping on the now bloody floor. His brown eyes swift to spot that sweet, but a wicked smile of his secretary and her fingers tangle to form a small bridge for her head to lay upon like the beautiful young lady she is. "However, I couldn't help but hear a certain word slip from your mouth. A certain b-word to this lovely lady right here." Although the single head smashing was enough for the thug, Sebastian feels the need to force another head smashing upon the desk once more until the guy's feet were slipping in his own blood to carter the metahuman to pull him closer nose to nose. "Now apologize to her right now or I'll slap your face against the desk again."

After shifting dagger stares forth and to between Sebastian and his secretary, the thug keeps his eyes on the grinning, suited woman, griding his teeth, "Fine... I... I'm sorry I called you a bitch..."

With that, Sebastian gives him a seldom nod, twist him around, and toss him away from them, but demand his attention before the thug scurries around the corner, covering his still bleeding nose. "Now I don't want you nor any more in MY office again! We can talk later, ya hear! Now scat!"

With the only sound produced from the sneakers spirting elsewhere, Sebastian spin around to give his own version of a wicked smile at the secretary when the both of them burst a heartfelt laugher at the events that just occurred, like schoolyard bullies they are, repeating gestures as they pretend to slam each other heads and cracking and bawling tears in between. Afterward, his secretary detail how the event unfolded with an argument between her and the thug after the rude man came in demanding cash or he'll tear down the place by force. Of course, of fucking course! Who are these people? The IRS? It seems like after months ago some goon came up badgering everyone to the point that security was much needed despite metahumans obligate to work here. Although thankfully, words haven't gotten out about this system outside of this building, it still paints an infirm poor picture at him. And in a dandy suit this morning, speaking of which he hopes not a drop of blood splash on the formal black suit.

"Well, if any more of those men come back, you have the right to say 'freeze' since you're so nice." smile Sebastian, laughing through his tremendous canine fangs as his eyes only stare at a quiet face of the secretary. Nothing? His fangs remain open for his silly laugher as he continues. "Aww, don't put me on thin ice, Charlotte, I'm giving you solid praises! Don't give me those cold eyes!" Yet again nothing but a stone face from Charlotte, how rude after saving her! "I said--"

"I know what you said, Mr. Wells, I'm just not gonna response to dumb jokes." Charlotte remark, painting the same stone face while diving her eyes down and typing away on her computer, not any a single glance back at her commander.

"But... yeah I said--"

"Ice jokes. I know."

"Your powers are cool."

"......"

"I said cool, this time."

"Are you trying to hit on me again, Mr. Wells? Just because you had a past with the Hero Program doesn't mean that you can kiss every damsel in distress, besides I have a boyfriend."

"He would never know. We could have an open relationship."

"I'm pretty sure he will. Now get going, I've already placed your paperwork and early lunch on your table in your office, then MAYBE we can talk afterward. In the meantime, go and do your job. Please."

After bidding a farewell, for now, the large metahuman arrives at the office of the city. The brown, sturdy and noble door swings open for his eyes to examine the inside of his neatly stacked and organized, all around in two exquisites, but compact rooms prop with furnitures you'd typically seen in every office for every mayor, though he gave it a little more style that he knew would be cherished by him only. Thankfully no soul was in sight in his office for him to do his business- a risky business, that is! With a sharp slide through another set of doors, Sebastian hum and dance his way towards his throne chair, shaking his hips and grooving to imaginary beats to 'When I Grow Up' while swirling his tongue over his lips at the sight of the regal, immense hoard of food just waiting to be eaten; his bearing ravenous fangs could already feel the pack meals swimming in his mouths as he prepared to unbutton his suit to reveal a vertical line on his gigantic belly leaking saliva. A strong plop down on his seat still wiggling with excitement like a young kid in a candy store, Sebastian's fingers slowly tickle his belly to relax his senses for he automatically flitch in his mind at the upcoming appalling pain he must endure, to which happens as the claws embedded on the tip of his fingers firmly slice through thin layers of soft texture skin.

'Damn it!', he thought, feeling the intense flowing blood blanketing his fingers, even if this was the thousand times he must open himself up to feed both mouths, his skin thinks otherwise and always send chilly shivers throughout his body with every inch of his skin being peel apart. 'Heh... The Event gave me this power but I guess not bleeding is asking too much...' It was just a few seconds later that his entire belly opens up to reveal much larger dagger fangs and a slimy, longed tongue inside, then a few more minutes speed by to getting used to the now fading pain, Sebastian was ready to engulf his glamours lunch with both mouths open wide. No matter how high the mountain of junk food lays before him, or whatever it was in the pile from unknown origins, Sebastian gores down countless items and junks simultaneously with both mouths.

Eggs, tin cans, sugar pills, blueberries, aluminum bulbs, papers, meatloaf, and so much freaking more! Savory spins within his teeth and tongue and... and... WHAT THE..?!

In mere seconds when an enigma beverage glop down his throat the savory taste of the previous wonder shot up in flames in this burning sensation- and not the good kind, more like why is his mouth is in agonizing pain! His stomach boils with steam and bubbles enough to gag from his own intestines and other organs stuffed inside next to explode. Hugging and cooing himself to try to relax and ease the pain, he scans over the beverage to see what was in it but all it had was a note wrapped around with a statement that blows steam through his ears: 'Ha Ha Ha! Hot Sauce! That's For Not Paying Us Last Month'. "Hot sauce?!! How did they even get this in my office?" he screams, still holding his stomach from the producing raging lava being thrown up through his upper mouth. This entire early lunch is destroyed by the acts of immaturity crimes that shall not go unpunished!

xxx

[Sebastian Wells]

Sebastion Wells▪ TAG ▪ NOTES

R

eceiving emails and stamping letters, in and out, one hoard of concern public of issue replace and repeat with another, the insanity of this city's histroic roots is the real pressure place upon the shoulders of Sebastian as his hand crack and snap with each stroke of written answers with his pen. This pact between his bleeding fingers and these paperworks would've been done early if it wasn't for that hot sauce episode that led the metahuman to be force to reside in his private bathroom for hours on end, to which made his secreatary worried and asked heavily on other staff to arrive on the scene of his tortured pain. However, simultaneously surrounding his endrevous, the staff giggled at his writhe pain. Even at the moment, though the previous burning liqud has passed through his body and down the drain, the staff would parade around his office offering pepto bismol for his "screaming diarrhea". The nerve of this dismay humilanion! It's not funny when it's on his side of the stick.

His firm glasses stand at the edge of his nose, eyeing down on future accept and veto legislation on his commands, Sebastian wraps his sweaty forehead along the sleeves of his suit, the hazard of a sudden drop unconscious tiredness is looming over. Documents meant to be in his control and an upcoming press conference held in the boarding house, there could be countless of possibilities on what route he could travel to in order to seize control and get this over with, but for now, he must give in on these pity letters and write down actual answers on the problems and advice. Since the start of this morning, it felt like the world just cave down on him as he struggles to keep with its rapid approach to him in the form of others seeking him out, waving stockpile of questions on questions to what to do or how to do it. He's the bellwether, but those follow him felt like pigs than sheep to him.

-- A Few Hours Later --

"-- And so we'll halt the flow on this street until the sewer line is complete; we'll reroute the traffic here. Anyone else has any questions?" conclude Sebastian, scanning his brown eyes across his board meeting between the oval office of staff peers. His finger steady on the diagram design of the downtown streets and its new reroute station for yet another sewer pipeline breaking in the area. If again this problem resurfaces in his face, the city would have to drive themselves in muddy waters of their own filth. "We'll adjourn the next section of the placement of our new museum tomorrow. Thank you for your time, gentlemen." After lifting himself from his chair and shake a few hands from the staff, Sebastian strolls out from the meeting and away from anymore chatters from the rest until he spots his secretary, Charlotte, with a bundle of blue files occupying her hands and a warm smile greeting her chief awaiting for him outside in the hallways.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wells," she exclaims, her body almost appearing to be bouncing. "How was the meeting today?"

Instead of answering her question, the massive metahuman looms over her like a shadow and peer down on the hoard of files she was carrying, snarling at the sight of even more work, but he halts any more dismay and reaches for them, flipping through sheets of mundane documents. His legs begin to take a stroll with heavy steps, hearing tiny ones from his secretary beside him before he allows himself to speak. "Boring, as usual, Charlotte. Nothing but some old oversea humans coming here and wasting my time! I don't even know why I tolerate them." With a short huff of breath blowing through his nose, he slaps down the files on the secretary's arms for her to return caring for the documents as mumble to himself under his breath. "Nothin' on these files but freaking demands by everyone calling out to share their damn 'problems' to me."

Between the rest of the way in complete silence allowing only the boots of their shoes to clicking on the tiles of the floor and the quick mumbles beneath his breath, Sebastian suddenly halt in his tracks close to his office as his eyes darts to the hanging clock slowly counting down the minutes, "Tell me, Charlotte, when's break? Or, at least, what other shit do I have to do?"

Charlotte switches her glaze from her manager to the clock, then fixes it back at the taller metahuman. "Ummm... Do you want me to check? I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have my clipboard with me. I think... you do have three more appointments today."

"Three more?! From what I just been through it felt like I've been here for days!" sigh Sebastian, rubbing circles along his temporal, then spin towards his secretary rapidly. His mouth opens then quickly shuts it, letting him imagine what to say. Vulgar maybe in this situation. "Just give me a gun to end it all..."

Thinking of it as a joke, a chuckle cohort through Charlotte's lips, nudging her elbow into her boss's bulging belly multiple times to gain a reaction or a chuckle in return, "To end time?"

"I was thinking more to myself, really." His face morbid, Sebastion didn't have skipped a beat nor a crack in his voice of such a delivery. His eyes want to slip away from the slight of the slow-moving sticks of the clock, but the silent, metallic rotating clicks of it was hypnotizing even if it was unbearable to his ear. He couldn't peer away from the round object, but he could feel at glaring and judgmental eyes all around him; however, when he finally snaps back into reality, the horror, but questionable eyes of his secretary was shown on her expression along with a gabbing, opened mouth as if her words were still on her tongue. His own eyes widen while a whirlwind of perplexing emotions swims through his mind-- angry, forgiveness, and then sadness. But... why? What did he just say?

"I'm... I'm so sorry..." Sebastion frown, placing a gripping hand on his secretary's shoulders, although a little too hard. His eyes may display a scared child, but his face captures a different emotion. "Just... Nevermind... to whatever I said. I'll be in my office. Just get me some coffee." His grip left their position, and without looking behind his shoulders, stroll through his office doors and slap the door shut tightly.

"Yes... sir," reply Charlotte outside the doors, eyes still glitter with the same broken expression. "I'll get it right away."

Inside his office, the atmosphere shiver with coldness instead of its traditional warmth. Ah, the windows were closed. His hands swing open the curtains, but even though the fading sun stands strong peeking through, the coldness still lingers, turning the liquid sunlight that brightens the dark corners return to its original form like a shadow; even the lamps scattering about wasn't enough to illuminate the room. Sebastion position himself down on his leather chair and reactions to nothing significance, that is until after a while when Charlotte finally enters into his room after a permission knock with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, along with a plate of donuts in another. Unfortunately, thanks to their interactions from earlier, the two quickly avoid each other's glares nor dare take a moment to speak about the problem forced between them, though maybe it's for the best.

Charlotte promptly left the compact room to her supervisor and his lonesome chugging down his black beverage and ripping through sugar powdered snacks, the sensation taste of different ingredients as he could distinguish each one, but even this favorable activity surrender him to a gloomy appearance. 'Why are you like this, Sebastion?' he thought to himself, finishing the last bit of his snack. 'You're a disgusting, ugly lard. You couldn't hold yourself and remember why you have these emotions. A sick freak.' This. This feels very familiar with every word. Is this speech on repeat?

A minute in silent, Sebastion leans back in his chair, then pull out a drawer and firmly grips an object and spread it on top of his desk, staring at the clad black object with anger, but also a curiosity: a small handgun. Why does he have this? For protection for any invaders? He picks up the handgun and notices that it's armed with a bullet, just one instead of the usual six pieces. No, he isn't like this, and he knew this as he never felt... this way about himself to have this with him, it can't be. Everything has a reaction from a problem, so his problem must something unless that isn't what but who, and he knew: Humans. Even though he shared the same body as one, his power and abnormal tail appear otherwise in this new Earth, thus they must be the sole reason why he would do this to himself. "Like those humans in the last meeting. They can't nothing. Nothing without my aid and power. But yet, this is what they're doing to me? Did THEY put this gun in here like that filthy money grabbing United Front human demons?!"

Speaking of which, as soon as he lands to this conclusion and ideal, the buzzing of the office phone begins to ring on cue, and behind the line speak the same voice from early this morning. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Wells, but my boss REALLy demands that you pay him now tonight or the entire deal is off and he'll send his men in your house." begin Rowan, the absent of shakiness in his voice is noticeable as it now replaces in a more seriousness and professional vibe. "He got some of our boys and pinpoint a location for you guys to handle the deal. No witness and it's outside the city line for you to get in trouble."

"Alright, name the place and time." Sebastion reponse. No clever one-liner, no witty banter, or thundering laugher; just a simple and honest reply to some thugs that called on such terrible timing.

xxx