Ohanzee stared out the window as Chino drove them towards the desolate location that had been chosen for their impromptu camping trip. Snow filled his vision - his world - as it had from the moment he first awoke. He decidedly did not like snow. The evergreens stuck up like jagged teeth among the skeletons of less hardy deciduous threes, and his mind wandered toward thoughts of monsters and horrific spirits devouring the world. Then to tinier monsters, the molecular machines racing along the pathways of his veins and arteries and, perhaps more disconcertingly, his nervous system.
He was curious about the former Ohanzee, the one that had presumably vanished into the artifact the carried with them. Or swallowed up into the gaping maws of the tiny machines. He wasn't sure anymore, but he was curious. Not just about which mystery was responsible for his current condition and who he was before, but about the larger impacts that both mysteries entailed. Who else was infected by these strange nanites? What was the purpose or function of the obelisk, beyond just its religious significance?
He sighed and looked away from the whitewashed, desolate landscape rushing by the window. Inside the van the group was restless, apprehensive. The prospect of living in the winter "wonderland" that had been ever-present outside whatever heated box they had found themselves in for as long as thy could remember was not a prospect they readily embraced. Ohanzee sure wished there were another way, but they had to have some time to work without interruption in order to put their plan in motion and previous attempts to do so through breaking and entering, kidnapping, or grand theft had ended poorly, so the only legal option available with their funds and general lack of legal ID (not to mention large collection of contraband) was to leave civilization behind.
But they would have to act quick. In addition to the risk of death from exposure, starvation, or any one of myriad dangers they might be exposed to during their wilderness adventure, they were at risk from each other. Ohanzee knew quite a bit about metahuman nature, and staying cooped up with any given group for long periods of time was a recipe for conflict. And he could already see the edges fraying. Chino was behaving quite oddly - perhaps giving in to the stress and finally "snapping". Sam was withdrawn, and so hard to read, but Ohanzee had the feeling that he was up to something - he snapped out of his isolation at a moment's notice to join excursions into public shops, showing uncharacteristic interest. He hoped it was just the big guy needing to stretch his legs, leaving the cramped quarters of the van. Ohanzee supposed he could have a minor form of claustrophobia. Katsina had already taken to snapping at the others, as well as Ohanzee, on occasion. Her temper had started out much longer, and seems to have been growing shorter as their time together lengthened. And Ace...
Well, Ace was implacable. He supposed he was more machine than man and that the only psychological ailment he had to fear was cybephychosis. He was, as ever, a calm and steady voice of reason, friendly and patient almost to a fault. It wasn't that he seemed friendly or genuine, just perpetually unperturbed and willing to lend a hand. Like some automaton or intelligent tool. It's not that he didn't have a personality - he was interesting, bright, and had opinions. He just seemed to have one emotion - not too happy, not too mad. Aside from Katsina's admission to being Infected - with a capital "I" - and his announcement about being some corporate drone in his past life, he hadn't really seen him react emotionally to anything.
Of course, the same could be said for Ohanzee. He knew he was a tempest of emotions, most kept hidden, and he had felt the pain of APBs passing rather acutely, but he tried to keep such things hidden. Was that what Ace was doing? He imagined both of them would do quite well at playing poker.
Finally, the van struggled along the snow covered path until it could no longer. Chino forced it over to the side of the road under cover of a nice pine before the van stopped with a jolt and settled into the snow. There was a long pause as everyone delayed before leaving the warmth of their ride, but Chino was the first to move, swiftly bolting out the door like a swimmer taking the plunge into the deep end of a cold pool. The warm air of the van rushed out, replaced with the icy cold of the outside, and everyone awoke from their lethargic delay as one, and filed out.
Doc took quick control of the situation, redirecting Chino's boundless energy into useful work crafting shelter and hiding the heat signature of the van. Ohanzee listened to his instructions, checking them against his survival knowledge and could find no flaw. Indeed, the human again demonsrtated his brilliance by coming up with solutions to problems that Ohanzee hadn't even considered. After a short while, he left Doc and Chino and Ace, who had joined in, to their task and helped Katsina unload the van. As they came to the obelisk, she asks if they should move it outside the vehicle or not before taking the astral photo.
"I'm partial to leaving it in the van. It has no aura that might be recognized. You can't recognize a face in the crowd if there are no faces." Of course, once the photo is taken the question is where to put it. But that is a question for later.
Ohanzee goes to check on the others as Katsina sets up the camera. Doc asks about whether anyone has any good ideas for shaping the snow, and Ohanzee almost kicks himself as he realizes that a spirit would likely be able to shape the mud and ice much faster than the metahumans struggling at it before him. He summons them as needed to dig into the earth or pile and secure the snow come ice. It isn't long before they have a spacious and secure shelter. While directing the spirits, in turn following Doc's directions, Katsina asks about performing her ritual.
"I'm not sure. I suppose I could throw up invisibility or an illusion of some sort, but that might stick out like a search light on the astral. Perhaps a spirit's assistance in concealing us might help." He ponders these options as he continues guiding the spirits.
