It was late afternoon before Dylan Liu finally made an appearance. The amber glow of sunset was starting to manifest, casting the much of the house in shadows.
Dylan, looked out of sorts in a suit. He was a pretty average looking man, a little slump-shouldered and a worried frown on his face that made a vertical crease in his forehead.
He shuffled up the walkway to the front door, noting with some apprehension that there were
already changes to the front lawn, the building. Some of the new tenants had
already taken liberties.
Well, damn it, this wasn't St Jame's show anymore. This was his. And he'd be damned if he'd let the network dictate every little thing. They had no clue what they had on their hands, the sheer potential of this group of people. It's like they didn't read the wartime comics or any of the hundreds of after-school cautionary-tales about newfound powers. If all they saw was dollar-signs, then so be it.
After he made his way to the library, he sent off a text-message to everyone letting them know he was there, on-site for the first of their weekly roundups. It was going to be a standing meeting, to go over issues and ideas.
He wanted to keep things hands-off as much as possible. This slice-of-life thing had to let them grow organically. He couldn't force them to become heroes or villains. Those choices had to grow organically, from who they were.
#From DylanLiu to YearOneCast. On-Site. I'll be in the kitchen. Hopefully Chinese food is okay...