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Blueprints for Perfection

Chapter One: Far Worse

"What do you mean Kreutalk isn't answering to me?" DeFoe demanded. "Kreutalk is my oldest and most loyal titan. He has been with me from the very beginning, while I was still in training. And never, not even that first day as his master, have I ever, EVER had trouble summoning him."

"We are just saying what we see," Dante reasoned, walking towards DeFoe. "As easy as you make it, we're not making fun of you, or trying to trick you."

DeFoe stepped back in disgust. "Don't get near me," he hissed. "For all I know, you might be the one confusing Kreutalk. Maybe your arrogance has damaged him."

Dante smirked. "Somehow, I don't think that's the problem. I think he's used to—"

"Don't finish that, Dante," Guggenheim warned.

"No," DeFoe scowled. "I want to hear what he has to say. Used to what?" he raised his eyebrows and cupped his ear to hear Dante's words better, in mock wonder. "Hm? What is he used to?"

"Dante—"

"Arrogance," Dante finished, steaming. "He's been around you for, what? Fifty years?"

"Ten!"

"The problem might be that he's not used to being around so many other emotions."

DeFoe understood exactly what Dante was saying. Well, DeFoe would remind this embodiment of insolence who he was dealing with. Ever since he had joined the Huntik Foundation, he had been treated like an apprentice, or a private. A second-rate citizen, an intern hoping to catch some of the glory that falls from the shoulders of the god-like Guggenheim and Dante. He put up with it because Dr. Reese had told him he should, but DeFoe had his limits.

"You obviously have some unresolved questions," DeFoe said coolly.

"I do," said Dante. Then he smiled. "But not about you. I can learn all I need to about you just by watching you."

"You don't know anything about me!" DeFoe took a fighting stance, his fists up, just as he had been taught, both protecting his face and easy to use.

"Dante, DeFoe," said Guggenheim. As he spoke, Sophie and Lok rushed into the center of the gym and stood between DeFoe and Dante. "Lok and Sophie, what are you doing?"

"If he wants a fight, we'll give it to him," Lok said, eyes and fists trained on DeFoe.

"Show me what you've got," DeFoe said, thinking up a spell to use. Poison Fang sounded good. "Poison Fang!"

Guggenheim pushed through Lok and the others and grabbed DeFoe by his outstretched wrist. The poison was disrupted and went off course, making an unimpressive little mark in the floor. Guggenheim dragged DeFoe through the three agents and toward the exit.

"Come walk with me," was all he said. The door shut behind them.

DeFoe glanced back at the gym several times and pulled at Guggenheim's grip. "They were asking for it!" he snarled. "They were going to fight me! What does that say about the great Huntik Foundation?"

Guggenheim was silent and steadily pulled DeFoe down the hallway.

"You said I would be accepted here. You said I'd be protected." He motioned back at the gym with his free hand. "But they were going to attack me! Can you protect me from them? And it's not just them! Everyone here is on guard around me. If I make any sudden movement, they start grabbing for their amulets. I can't take it anymore! I wonder if I'd be better off on my own."

Guggenheim remained silent. They passed a few agents.

DeFoe motioned toward them once they had passed. "See? Did you see those stares? No one trusts me here. You said this is a place of trust! Well, you know what I think? I think this is just like the Organization. I think the only trust is among small groups of friends, like Dante and his team. None of the teams trust each other. And I don't have a team at all, so where does that put me? That means no one trusts me. No one at all. And if they don't trust me, I can't trust them. That makes perfect sense, doesn't it? At least suits feared me in the Organization. They wouldn't dare attack me."

Guggenheim dragged DeFoe into the courtyard. Most of the damage done by the suits and titans had been fixed. Guggenheim didn't let go of DeFoe's wrist until they were in the middle of the courtyard. DeFoe could almost still see the battle around him, the Professor before him. He looked at the ground and saw the stain where the janitor could not get Austin's blood out of the stones.

DeFoe shook and he thought he could feel his spine moving. He turned on his heel and started back inside. Guggenheim caught his wrist, and DeFoe stopped. Wind rustled the olive leaves overhead. The stain was dappled in dancing shadows.

"The Organization did something far worse than attack you," Guggenheim said softly. "And you know how much worse it was. Otherwise, this place wouldn't hold so many ghosts for you."

"Thanks for bringing them up, again," DeFoe replied, though his sarcasm was lost in his shaking voice.

"DeFoe," Guggenheim began, "the Foundation does want to help you. But the Huntik agents are human, and they need to learn to treat you right. I'll talk to them again, but give them time. If you stop picking fights, they will grow to trust you even faster."

"And this problem with my summoning?" DeFoe inquired.

"That will take time, and most likely, you won't be able to summon anything until your mind heals from its trauma."

"It isn't trauma," DeFoe said. "The Professor did something to me that is blocking me."

"That is true, in a way. But you'll move past it, eventually. Don't worry." Guggenheim patted DeFoe on the shoulder. DeFoe's shoulders slumped.

"I'm going back inside," DeFoe said quietly. "Being out here isn't good for my health."

Description
Blueprints for Perfection

Chapter One: Far Worse

"What do you mean Kreutalk isn't answering to me?" DeFoe demanded. "Kreutalk is my oldest and most loyal titan. He has been with me from the very beginning, while I was still in training. And never, not even that first day as his master, have I ever, EVER had trouble summoning him."

"We are just saying what we see," Dante reasoned, walking towards DeFoe. "As easy as you make it, we're not making fun of you, or trying to trick you."

DeFoe stepped back in disgust. "Don't get near me," he hissed. "For all I know, you might be the one confusing Kreutalk. Maybe your arrogance has damaged him."

Dante smirked. "Somehow, I don't think that's the problem. I think he's used to—"

"Don't finish that, Dante," Guggenheim warned.

"No," DeFoe scowled. "I want to hear what he has to say. Used to what?" he raised his eyebrows and cupped his ear to hear Dante's words better, in mock wonder. "Hm? What is he used to?"

"Dante—"

"Arrogance," Dante finished, steaming. "He's been around you for, what? Fifty years?"

"Ten!"

"The problem might be that he's not used to being around so many other emotions."

DeFoe understood exactly what Dante was saying. Well, DeFoe would remind this embodiment of insolence who he was dealing with. Ever since he had joined the Huntik Foundation, he had been treated like an apprentice, or a private. A second-rate citizen, an intern hoping to catch some of the glory that falls from the shoulders of the god-like Guggenheim and Dante. He put up with it because Dr. Reese had told him he should, but DeFoe had his limits.

"You obviously have some unresolved questions," DeFoe said coolly.

"I do," said Dante. Then he smiled. "But not about you. I can learn all I need to about you just by watching you."

"You don't know anything about me!" DeFoe took a fighting stance, his fists up, just as he had been taught, both protecting his face and easy to use.

"Dante, DeFoe," said Guggenheim. As he spoke, Sophie and Lok rushed into the center of the gym and stood between DeFoe and Dante. "Lok and Sophie, what are you doing?"

"If he wants a fight, we'll give it to him," Lok said, eyes and fists trained on DeFoe.

"Show me what you've got," DeFoe said, thinking up a spell to use. Poison Fang sounded good. "Poison Fang!"

Guggenheim pushed through Lok and the others and grabbed DeFoe by his outstretched wrist. The poison was disrupted and went off course, making an unimpressive little mark in the floor. Guggenheim dragged DeFoe through the three agents and toward the exit.

"Come walk with me," was all he said. The door shut behind them.

DeFoe glanced back at the gym several times and pulled at Guggenheim's grip. "They were asking for it!" he snarled. "They were going to fight me! What does that say about the great Huntik Foundation?"

Guggenheim was silent and steadily pulled DeFoe down the hallway.

"You said I would be accepted here. You said I'd be protected." He motioned back at the gym with his free hand. "But they were going to attack me! Can you protect me from them? And it's not just them! Everyone here is on guard around me. If I make any sudden movement, they start grabbing for their amulets. I can't take it anymore! I wonder if I'd be better off on my own."

Guggenheim remained silent. They passed a few agents.

DeFoe motioned toward them once they had passed. "See? Did you see those stares? No one trusts me here. You said this is a place of trust! Well, you know what I think? I think this is just like the Organization. I think the only trust is among small groups of friends, like Dante and his team. None of the teams trust each other. And I don't have a team at all, so where does that put me? That means no one trusts me. No one at all. And if they don't trust me, I can't trust them. That makes perfect sense, doesn't it? At least suits feared me in the Organization. They wouldn't dare attack me."

Guggenheim dragged DeFoe into the courtyard. Most of the damage done by the suits and titans had been fixed. Guggenheim didn't let go of DeFoe's wrist until they were in the middle of the courtyard. DeFoe could almost still see the battle around him, the Professor before him. He looked at the ground and saw the stain where the janitor could not get Austin's blood out of the stones.

DeFoe shook and he thought he could feel his spine moving. He turned on his heel and started back inside. Guggenheim caught his wrist, and DeFoe stopped. Wind rustled the olive leaves overhead. The stain was dappled in dancing shadows.

"The Organization did something far worse than attack you," Guggenheim said softly. "And you know how much worse it was. Otherwise, this place wouldn't hold so many ghosts for you."

"Thanks for bringing them up, again," DeFoe replied, though his sarcasm was lost in his shaking voice.

"DeFoe," Guggenheim began, "the Foundation does want to help you. But the Huntik agents are human, and they need to learn to treat you right. I'll talk to them again, but give them time. If you stop picking fights, they will grow to trust you even faster."

"And this problem with my summoning?" DeFoe inquired.

"That will take time, and most likely, you won't be able to summon anything until your mind heals from its trauma."

"It isn't trauma," DeFoe said. "The Professor did something to me that is blocking me."

"That is true, in a way. But you'll move past it, eventually. Don't worry." Guggenheim patted DeFoe on the shoulder. DeFoe's shoulders slumped.

"I'm going back inside," DeFoe said quietly. "Being out here isn't good for my health."