[Sebastian Wells]

Sebastion Wells ▪ Vincent Maxfield ▪ NOTES

G

roaning while treking through the hallways of penthouse, brown eyes staring downwards upon the glowing hue of his phone, the large metahuman, although he tries his vcious best, could still hear the crowdness mumbles of various of voices surrounding him, though there was no voices in there, only himself in the empety. The memories of the endless chatters, the contanst bumps and pardons parading himself through the wild crowds, along with the echoing calls of annoucments of upcoming event above him in this tight space, the growing day is climbing and readily to becoming an absoulte horrendous day for Sebastion. Before arrivaling to his house waiting to board this next scheulde campagin, numerous ideals came to him to board private own events behind closed doors or occupationing with only selected and small booth pardaring around the city; however, with each suggest giving to him, Sebastion harshily denied them all for he proclaim that each would wound him as 'weak' to the other cadidates surrounded by 'his babysitters'.

In the past, as he was still new to being a candidate, questions suddenly flooded when rumors plagued him about his previous ticket rides had to send him to Californa of all places for possibly cheat some votes to his campaign with outsiders, even despite he stated wasn't for business and it had no place in their mouth in various of rallies, Sebastion still sour from his public ride back and forth was being watched by some spies, but, at least, he finally returned home without no spill rumors this time. 'Although it has been a while since they rumor passed like dust in the wind,' he thought to himself, marching down the stairs after suiting some clothes on. 'Where did fuck did these rumors came about?! No one should even know about my tickets and where he or she takes me. Hell, I don't want my coat riders to know this much about me!' Whoever or whatever is gaining this information much be dealt with and asap!

Quite later from this interaction, finally, his phone rings to announce that they were ready to begin his campaign speech alerts Sebastion, state his quick farewell to his spare time alone in his house that he was waiting in, and gather his baggage and leap on a black-suited limousine outside his driveway. Even though he only left the city for two days, it already feels like a heavy nostalgic to travel through the rocky streets: switching lanes due to construction works upon broken streets, the fresh scent of hot packages of meat either slowly rolling on burning cooking rails or flip around in trucks, flying cars trying to escape the rush hour traffics, the siren bellow of emergency vehicle, and soaring skyscrapers clogging the sky. It was wonderful but can be annoying at times to him, but it's home, nevertheless.

Coating through the streets for a bit, the elongated car halts nearby an open parking space to drop off its passengers. Rubbing his hairless head, Sebastion's eyes still hover over his phones watching messages on a disclose phone number repeatedly pop in his notification, replying to future plans and events as one of them just so happens to be a quick discussion about his campaign from reporters, nothing new or interesting. As usual during this slow race to the polls, especially since his rival candidates aren't doing any or enough challenge to keep him on his toes, not even a slight smile in this chess build situation to determine whom will rule over this entire city. Then again, these are simple minded humans he's going against, so it isn't much to have fun or drag circles around them, not even blackmail or death threat them. However, the thought seems great to do about now. Gonna put a pin on this lightbulb idea.

Sebastion offers pointless 'hellos' and 'welcomes' to various of faces he knows he'll forget in an hour or so as soon as he marches through the lobby, traveling across a few corners and archways of the crowning capital building of the city. The large metahuman reaches the massive platform where flashing lights of cameras shine on him, the roaring voices quite begging to answer their burning questions, the news outline beaming live footage, and a few howling fans, possibly metahumans like him, clapping and cheering at his arrival. With a bright, though fake, grin spread across his face like a paint of a brush, a strong backbone straighten itself, and a memorized speech letter floating in his mind, Sebastion open his lips to reveal his promises to promote this beautiful city and hope to guild both humans and metahumans to a perfect utopia together.

xxx

[Vincent Maxfield]

”Yes?...Who do we have available?...Send Ms. Andrews to delegate...Thank you Mr. DeLong.” He hung up his bluetooth and looked out the window, watching the cars pass by. He admired the company car, a Tesla Model X PD00D. He wasn’t necessarily a vehicle person, but he appreciated luxury when it was presented to him. He wasn’t driving, of course. Today they had appointed George Hawthorne as his driver. He’d learned the names of all the drivers in and around New York and particular hotspots in California. It was only common courtesy. If he could, he would learn the names of all the drivers employed by Axin, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the time.

He pulled out his phone as he felt a buzz. An email about moving certain assets from their Duluth location to Chicago. They were a bit short on funds. Vincent bit his lower lip as he thought for a second, before firing a succinct but courteous email back about transferring some access funds from their missile project in Sante Fe to Duluth, signed:
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Vincent Maxfield.
Then set his phone in his lap, waiting expectantly for it to buzz again as he looked back out the window. Traffic had slowed to a crawl. They must be getting close. He knew scheduling had been tight. The only time they could arrange a meeting had been directly after his speech. Unfortunate, but this was an important meeting. If they could get an up and coming politician in their lap, a metahuman no less, it would provide a great asset for their company.

The traffic had come to a complete standstill. The speech must be running a little long. He twisted his mouth in slight discontent, then unbuckled and slid over to the left side door. ”I’ll get out here.” He said politely.

“Are you sure Mr. Maxfield? It’s a bit hectic out there.” George warned in a thick New York accent, genuine concern in his voice.

”I’m sure I can handle it.” He said as he opened the door and stepped outside. He leaned back in the car. ”Thank you Mr. Hawthorne, and thank you for your concern.” He smiled warmly.

“No problem.” George replied, nodding his head.

Vincent closed the door gently behind him and walked into the crowd, enjoying the wind on his face. He heard the ringing in his bluetooth and answered. Simultaneously, his phone buzzed, another email with another query about funds. He seamlessly responded to the person on the bluetooth while typing out an answer on his phone. It was a practice he had become very accustomed to. ”Thank you.” He said as he typed out the words, then hung up and put his phone in his pocket.

He slithered his way through the crowd of people, issuing a few ”Excuse me”s and ”Pardon me”s along the way. Eventually, he made his way up to the building and approached an official guarding the door. ”Vincent Maxfield.” He said, holding up his ID to the official. ”I’ve scheduled a meeting with Mr. Wells on behalf of the Axin Corporation.” The official studied the ID carefully before nodding and opening the door, gesturing inside. ”Thank you, Ms. Rodriguez.” He smiled, nodding, reading the name on her nametag. Ms. Rodriguez nodded back as he walked inside.

Once inside, he made his way up to the secretary. ”Vincent Maxfield?” She stood up, a large, friendly smile on her face, she seemed to be expecting him.

”Yes ma’am.” He replied, smiling back, although his smile was much more refrained.

“Right this way!” She gestured for him to follow as she led him to a small meeting room. “Just take a seat and he’ll be right with you!”

He took a seat, unbuttoning his jacket as he sat down. ”Thank you- I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Naomi!” She grinned back at him.

”Thank you, Naomi.” He smiled warmly. Her smile widened slightly, and she nodded her head in parting before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Now to wait. Vincent didn’t like to be kept waiting. If he wasn’t doing someone productive, it wasn’t something worth doing. Still he had plenty of calls to respond to and emails to answer to keep him busy. Right on cue, he heard a little ringing in his ear. ”Hello?…” he answered.

[Sebastian Wells]

Sebastion Wells ▪ Vincent Maxfield ▪ NOTES

T

alk. Stop. Answer questions. Talk. Stop. Answer questions. Repeat on repeat of this stuff for almost a near full blown half hour on various of subjects, supports, ideas, and accusations. Sure, some questions did peak at his interest to investigate more such as the spreading whispers of upcoming Heroes appearing more often in New York either by revealing themselves from the shadows or moving here hoping to brand themselves in the Big Apple. Whether this is true of not, for it is just a whisper in the darkness, the thought of metahumans hoping to spread their brand here could give him the leverage of dragging them to his side for an amity as if he too support superheroes. The remaining campagin isn't much perk of interests, but thankfully, it was over before the chance to slip off to sleep could've been his greatest downgrade to this program.

"... And with that note, I'm not here just to say things without an impression, or commitments that will lose track along the way in between the selfishness and exploitation that is our old government, all of this effort-- from the crying voices for a more brighter city, the serious action taken instead of preventing them-- it's the EVERYONE'S vote that's the voice for this election to help me to help you with our million dreams. Both humans and metahuman, let's do our parts, whether big or small, to seal New York once more the prosperity it used to have and deserve to recapture. Thank you everyone, and may God bless this glorious nation." Sebastian exclaim, booming his vigours voice for all to hear. His smile still unfazed across his wide face when the thundering applause roars throughout the massive, round room from the performance of the metahuman; the gesture still motion when the large metahuman begins to travel from the platform, some party members reach out for a firm handshake between the two of a 'congratulations' or 'well done's' from different guests or just a quick flash of pats on each back. Although the arsenal of people engulfing him, with the addition of a few either tripping or pounding a step upon his colossal, black tail being drag around, the feeling of worth within these politicians simulate as a beaming blush on Sebastian's face, whether he wants to or not. Mostly not. Not from these old crooks that he loathes. Especially since they're not the ones hogging him down with buckets of cash to host this chore of campaigns, to which it draining him down!

Crawling through the ocean waves of party members and flash or live cameras either tailing or surrounding him, Sebastian evades the crowded room from any more interactions, escaping through the circle room and entering the inner lobby, then there can he finally release a breath of relief. 'Nothing in there but those fake people that disapproval of certain traits of someone different,' he thought to himself, pulling out his phone. 'But then claim that they have "that friend" so they can't be THAT kind of person. Ass-licking humans.' If the word irony had a fist...

Now to kick back for today and-- BUZZZ -- the alarm almost made the large metahuman tackle the ground as both the sound and vibration startle him. 'Just gonna change that to silence.' Sebastian thought, pulling out his phone and eyeing it down. The text was simply and cut start to the point as he addressed to every worker to notify for. However, to which the short notice appears on his screen, a cry almost escape through his lungs: YOU HAVE A MEETING WITH MAXFIELD.

Who the hell is Maxfield? And why of any other days of the week would he set up a meeting AFTER this one? Unless they can poop out pure gold, they better have a good reason to bother him! With heavy feet stomping through the lobby, Sebastian performs twist and turns through section inside the building until he finally reaches the small boardroom that he was supposed to arrive to, brush off any invisible lent from his black suit, then proceed to fly open the door and spot the only person there.

xxx

[Vincent Maxfield]

While Vincent was waiting, he decided to brush up on Sebastian Wells’ past, make sure he had everything straight. He went through his phone, and click on a very innocent looking app protected by a password. He typed it in and was prompted to give a fingerprint scan. He pressed his thumb to the bottom of his phone. The screen turned blue for a second, a little white circle spinning in the center, before finally opening to a screen with several files lined up below a search bar. The Axin logo stood proudly in the corner. Vincent tapped on the search bar and typed in “Sebastian Wells.” The blue screen popped up again for a split second before a new set of files showed up on the screen. He began sifting through each and every one.

Vincent wasn’t one to judge the actions of others. A man is an island after all, and one’s decisions and reasonings were their own. Still, he was a man of empathy, and he couldn’t help but put himself in the place of others. Sebastian grew up in poverty, like Vincent’s parents. But unlike his parents, he didn’t escape it through honorable means. He escaped poverty by breaking the law; by, essentially, cheating. One of the many ethics Vincent’s parents hammered into him was a strong disdain towards cheating. There was no honor in cheating. You do not earn your accomplishments if you cheat. You steal them, and stealing was a sign that you didn’t have the capacity to earn such things on your own. It was a sign of weakness.

Still, Vincent had to admire the man. He was making a legitimate name for himself. The mob part was unfortunate, but here he was, on track to becoming mayor of one of the most prominent cities in the world. Perhaps he had even further ambitions. He hoped so, I would certainly be helpful for the company. And Vincent certainly wasn’t one to go about waving the rainbow flag, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for a fellow LGBTQ+ person to be openly running for a political position.

Vincent turned off the screen as the door swung open. “Mr. Wells,” Vincent stood up, buttoning his jacket, and held out a hand, smiling warmly, “Vincent Maxfield, executive assistant for the Axin Corporation. Pleasure to meet you.” Executive assistant was a pretty hefty title, Vincent hoped Sebastian would acknowledge and appreciate the special attention.

[Sebastian Wells]

Sebastion Wells ▪ Vincent Maxfield ▪ NOTES

T

he posture that he sits. The uniform that stucks comforambaly on to him as if he it was made for him; addition, with the expesive cost to it for the texture that surrounds the layer of the suit. And the gadgets feature among his lithe figure. Apply this and maybe more hidden, this enimga person could be some sort of busniess representative to an upperclass company or so, one of the numerous scattering around the city construction, some a hit or miss.

He present must've been awaiting Sebastian for he immediately leap on to his feet at the sight of his present, fixing and dining himself before an outward reach of palm hands was offer, then address his name and title, all within a flash into Sebastian's eyes which softly perk the metahuman into a tiny startle, though the movement from the strange man was nothing but the counter opposite. Vincent Maxfield, he said proudly, as if the name sound any bells or be worship, but then now the large metahuman knows who had made the call to promote a meeting between the two; however, what remain of his greeting was a name not quite a subject in the mouths of many: Axin Corporation. And not only that but the executive assistant of such a place! Sure, he had heard of the enigma products and its sharp endowment of schemes a few times here and there, a perpetrator of not rounding themselves on the radar, but still made themselves known to all. 'Well damn.' he thought to himself, reaching out his own palm hand to squeeze the messenger's own, 'You stated your business, now you have peaked my attention.'

With a curve smile glowing across his face, Sebastian gesture with his other hand to motion his guest to relax back down on his chair. "No need to figure out my name, that's why you're here. Great to meet you too, Mr. Maxfield. An executive assistant is such a massive titles for tiny frame work as yourself."

xxx

[Vincent Maxfield]

Sebastian was a large man with a large presence. He could see why he made such an effective political candidate. He could announce himself purely by walking into a room. Vincent felt the man’s eyes burn into him, sizing him up. However, he was not intimidated. It would take a very special sort of person to intimidate Vincent. He was raised by two of the most intimidating people he ever met. Not much could phase him.

”Well, Mr. Wells,” he sat back down in response to Sebastian’s gesture, unbuttoning his jacket again, ”you happen to be very important to our company. I have quite the proposal for you. Why don’t you take a seat yourself?” He gestured toward the empty chair across from him. ”You see, I understand you, as a metahuman, are quite involved in the metahuman community. The Axin Corporation has an invested interested in the metahuman community. We would like to fund your campaign, Mr. Wells, in exchange for certain favors and information.” Now came the hard sell. ”First of all, we’d like in depth information on the metahuman community; their wants, their needs, their whereabouts, etcetera.” He folded his hands delicately in front of him. ”Second, we’d like information about various Heroes in the area. Once you become an elected official - which you will if you agree to our offer - I’m sure you’ll be given plenty of information on the matter.” He paused slightly to let him digest the information, ”Finally, we would like information on certain metahumans whom, to put it politely, no one would notice go missing.” He gestured toward the camera in the corner of the room. ”Don’t worry, I had the cameras turned off before we started this meeting. I assured everyone it was very confidential.”

”I’ll be honest with you Mr. Wells, your campaign is severely lacking in funding, and unless you get a backer like us, you have no chance of winning the election.” His smile widened slightly, warmly, ”Of course, you have no shortage of illicit funding to keep your campaign alive, but I assure you someone will track that money back to where it came from. We already have.” He spoke smoothly and clearly, sitting confidently, with nothing but courtesy toward Sebastian, keeping steady eye contact with him the entire time. He was not intimidated. ”We’re willing to offer your campaign $85 million if you agree to follow these stipulations and any that might follow.”