Conduits: An inFamous RP (Game Thread)(KILLED BY VENGEFUL SOULS OF POKÉMON)

[JdaS]

Have you ever been called a "bio-terrorist"?


Non? Hehheheh. Well, lemme tell you mon ami, it tends to change your outlook on life. It all started with this bike messenger from Empire City, Cole MacGrath. Boooy, did he get dealt a rough hand... He get's blown up by this bomb, right? Except he doesn't die. Instead he gets superpowers. Not too bad a deal, non? Think again. Turns out the radiation from from the bomb caused a deadly plague and our ami Cole gets blamed for it all. His life from there on becomes a living hell, filled with nothing but difficult, thankless choices and loss. Any other cat would've lost it by this point, gone bad.

But not Cole, no. He just kept on walking the righteous path, even when faced with The Beast, a terrifyingly powerful Conduit that destroyed most of the East Coast, including what was left of New Marais. It was there that Cole would face his final choice: activate a device called the Ray Field Inhibitor and kill The Beast, along with every other Conduit on Earth. Or, destroy the device, dooming mankind to die from the plague and allow Conduits to take over. Guess what he chose.

Oui c'est ça! The ultimate sacrifice. And thus all Conduits perished. Well... Not all. I lived, and so did many others. The RFI was a... how you say? Dud. Many Conduits started appearing after this, and the U.S. Government, not wanting a repeat of what happened to the eastern seaboard, formed the Department of Unified Protection, the DUP, to incarcerate and neutralize us Conduits. What they call, "bio-terrorists", the pricks.

Detroit is our last haven. Some of us, like me, have been here since the beginning, 7 years ago. Some still come, from all over the world to join one of two causes.

The Conduit Nation on one side, led by Jason Wakefield aka "Tesla". They want to achieve a peace with the Government by way of non-lethal resistance. Their ultimate goal being the setting up of an independent, all Conduit nation, where we would be free to live without fear and persecution.

On the other, the Free Conduit League of a Lincoln Harlow aka "Atlas". They want freedom. At all costs. They think that as the more powerful beings, they should be free to dictate their own lives as individuals, instead of being crammed into whatever plot of land the opposing party would achieve.

Moi? Eeehh, I do not really care for these petty squabbles. As an entrepreneur, I go where the money is.

Detroit itself has seen better days, although, when that was, I cannot recall. It has been the stage for the power struggle of these two groups. Many criminals also inhabit the dark corners of the city, terrorizing what is left of the general populace.

But this is all about to change. A DUP Major by the name of Arthur T. Rourke has neutralized all Conduit activity in Denver and Minneapolis and prepares to storm our petite ville as we speak. The battle will become even harder now and whatever happens here will no doubt set the stage for our future.

I wonder how this will all end...

 

[JdaS]

Conduit Nation

Spoiler: Johan Reiter aka Sun

Name: Johan Reiter (Though he's taken to calling himself Johan Sun lately)

DUP Codename: "Sun"

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance: Golden hair and tanned skin, as well as rather unusually golden eyes. His skin has a undeniable shine to it, and he "lights up the room" when he enters somewhere. If he's in a good mood, he'll shine more brightly, and similarly, it will change depending on how he feels, though he is capable of pretending that he is in a good mood by increasing the shine himself. He's fit, and somewhat good-looking. He normally wears sunglasses, and nice clothes with muted and tasteful colors. That is, if he can, of course. Covering himself up normally doesn't reduce the glowing a lot, though a thick dark attire helps a lot. Around his neck is a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a sun. He's about 5'11", and has a slim build.

Personality: Johan used to be a rather modest and selfless person, who enjoyed doing things simply to make people happy. However, being rejected by the general public, and named a terrorist, has made him more selfish, a way to protect his rather low self-esteem from further rejection. Because of this, he tries hard to make sure he's liked by those he can be liked by. In more than one way, he's a narcissist, tricking himself into thinking highly of himself so he can deal with the current state of things, and having become rather vain. He is generally caring and sociable, though he will sometimes pretend to be in a good mood when he's not, and to be less demanding than he really is. Truthfully, he's a bit too self-obsessed to notice how much he did change. He's brave and protective, and aims not to harm anyone. Even so, he's also growing more cynic to how the world works, replacing his somewhat naive way of thinking, making him feel less cheerful than he used to be. Johan takes a certain pride in being a conduit, although that is very likely just another way to trick himself.

Biography: Johan was born in a small Austrian city 25 years ago, into a family with a mother, a father, and an older brother. While he lived his first 7 or so years without any incident, his conduit powers started surfacing naturally -as that happens to some- and so did his inability to hide them. He would glow softly, though his family kept it hidden in order to pretend that everything was normal. Even so, they would blame him for things he couldn't help, and slowly grew less fond of him. By the time he was 16, he had no way of hiding it to people, and ended up spending his time inside. Isolated and rejected by the people the closest to him, he didn't interact much with people, and his self-esteem was extremely low. It was when he was 17 things changed from that. Knowing about his ability to withstand heat, he left his house when he saw that a nearby children's hospital was burning, and he went inside. Saving at least 3 children, he became known, and for a short while, he was called a hero. However, when news of what was going on in the US was heard, about a conduit known as the beast destroying whole cities, this quickly changed. He had to go into hiding, and when most of the conduits died out, he had the chance to leave Austria, though through less than legal means.

In the US, Detroit became the place where Johan could "blend in", if only because of the large amount of other conduits. These last 7 years, he's been independent for most part, though he finally decided to join the conduits wanting an independent nation a year ago, as he couldn't bear the thought of killing anyone. He had no choice but to embrace his status as a conduit, as there's no way he could hide either way, and thus took the chance to learn boxing for the purpose of being well-trained, and having some experience with fighting.

Affiliation: The Conduit Nation.

Powers: Abilities: Johan has the ability to create light and warmth. He has the ability to cause large, blinding flashes, and to raise temperatures to the point of creating fire, though he cannot do that instantly and he has to burn actual materials. If it's sunny outside, he will get his powers back almost instantly, as well as a decent regeneration ability and high speed and energy, as not only his abilities, but also his energy is sun-based. However, if there's a lot of clouds, or even bad weather, he doesn't have this advantage. He has no defensive abilities, apart from being able to withstand great temperatures, both low and high ones. His powers would evolve towards a greater offensive ability, increasing the range and speed of both his flashes and his ability to create fire.

Weaknesses: His foremost weakness is a lack of sunlight, or places where sunlight can't find him. While he manages to benefit enough from sunlight normally for this not to be a problem, some kinds of weather, especially rain, tends to leave him worse off than before. There's also the fact that he can't help but glow, even when covered in clothes, so hiding or sneaking in the middle of night is difficult.

Spoiler: Reggie Pier aka Butterknife

Name: Reggie Pier
DUP Codename: Butterknife. Reggie hates that name, and personally prefers "Shortcut".
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: On the shorter side at about 5'7", Reggie is not a man who likes to be reminded of his height. Brown-skinned, he has a runner's build. His body has been trained for agility, as it's the best complement to his powers. His face is boyish and mischievous, with a spark in his brown eyes and a perpetual smile. Reggie has a thin nose that curves upward just down at the tip, and dimples in his cheeks that pronounce themselves whenever he smiles. His hair is medium-length and styled into dreads, though he typically wears a boonie hat over them, as well as a large domino mask attached by spirit gum.. The only jewelry he keeps on him is his class ring, a simple silver deal with an amethyst tucked into the center. His clothing isn't particularly stylish, but it's eye-grabbing. He wears a red and yellow hoodie unzipped over a black shirt with a big ninja decal on the chest, said warrior crossing two swords in front of him. He calls it his superhero logo, though he's on the market for one that isn't quite so... garish. He typically wears baggy jeans or cargo pants taped down to avoid flapping about when he runs, and a pair of running shoes so tattered you'd think they were a family heirloom. He tries not to let anyone know they actually DID belong to his dad when he was his age.

Personality: Reggie is at his heart a kid, and he is absolutely thrilled to have superpowers. Enthusiastic, extroverted and friendly. Optimism is a way of life for this boy, and he isn't afraid to preach it. His only real rule is that he insists on treating people "like people." As a result he's unwilling to judge others for their actions without context and an understanding of their point of view. He tends to be more forgiving than he should be, and he's been burned enough times to know it isn't a particularly smart way to do things. But he's convinced that even if one person gets a second chance because he was willing to give them one, and they use it to be a better person, it all will have been worth it.

Reggie doesn't usually refer to himself as a Conduit. He doesn't like being treated like some kind of non-human thing just because he can do things other humans can't. He insists that he's a superhero. He has special powers, yeah, but he has them so that he can help people. As a result of adhering to this lifestyle he'll never turn a blind eye to someone who needs help. He's only happy to be of service. Having modeled himself so closely to his comic book idols, he's adopted their refusal to kill. This is harder than it sounds with his power, but nothing can convince him of the necessity to take someone's life away. He's also still a committed student. He dropped out of high school to continue working as a superhero, but he hasn't given up on his studies, and works harder than ever to become fully educated. He dreams of going to college someday, after he's done some real good in the world.

He has his quirks and his flaws, however. He's a little too mischievous for his own good at times, and gets a little too into his quips during a fight. He can be insensitive and even hurtful when he's focused on a fight, which works against him when he's against someone who isn't outright evil. And as he's ultimately still just a kid, he has a bit of a problem with authority figures. Being ordered around isn't something he's used to by anyone but his parents, and he doesn't really hold reverence to anyone who won't accept his philosophy as a superhero. Reggie can be moody, and prone to depression if something goes particularly wrong in his life or work.

Biography: Reggie is a Michigan native, and grew up in a perfectly normal, stable home. A hard-working dad, a nurturing mother, and even a couple of bratty older sisters to get on his nerves. He was a smart kid from early on, and eager to please. He was raised with a strict moral compass and instilled with a desire to do right by others. Unfortunately for his parents, this backfired on them the day Reggie's powers began to manifest. It was weak at first, a ghostly apparition sprouting from his back. At first they had thought it was some kind of mutation, something they'd just need to cover up and play off. But then at the end of the limb, a blade began to grow. Over months the arm grew larger, stronger, and harder to keep hidden for any length of time. Reggie practiced with the limb, and found it was sharp. Supernaturally so, and strong enough to slice through any surface he put it up against. Plaster, concrete, steel. Nothing could resist its edge.

Reggie's sense of responsibility took over from there. Even though he was only fifteen years old, he insisted to his parents that he needed to make use of the gift he was given. If he had the power to fight, then he had the power to protect people. He wanted to be a superhero. His parents, naturally, refused. At first. What were they supposed to say? "Yes, go ahead and get yourself killed"? But as he slept that night they had a long, heated talk about what to do with him. They'd seen on the news what the government was doing. What happened in Denver, and Minneapolis. Even if they kept him cooped up at home, they would come and find him one day. And he wouldn't be ready. So it was decided by the time he awoke: he could do what he wished with his powers. But it was under two conditions: They'd get total disclosure, and he'd tell them everything that happened during his outings. EVERYTHING. And also, he'd have to disguise himself. No one else could know what he was up to.

And so he dropped out of school. As far as his friends knew he'd decided education just wasn't for him. In reality, though, he just needed more time to dedicate to his superheroics. He's made himself a rough "costume" out of cobbled-together clothes, a domino mask, and a wide-brimmed boonie hat. And he's tentatively allied himself with a faction of fellow Conduits who seek an independent nation to use as a safe haven, though he doesn't know if that's really a proper solution, when his heart tells him to try and find compromise with the nation he's already a part of. His night are spent studying and furthering his education, as well as training for his field-work.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation, though he hasn't revealed his name to them and considers himself a "part-timer"

Powers: Reggie's power, put simply, is Cutting. Out of his arm grows an ethereal, purple and bony appendage roughly in the shape of a skeletal human arm. But rather than a hand, attached to the wrist is a two-foot blade. This blade is unnaturally sharp, and durable. So far it has proven incapable of chipping or dulling, and needs no cleaning or care from its wielder. The blade arm is able to cut any known physical substance, cleanly splitting it in two without any roughness left in the affected area. The blade arm is mostly subject to Reggie's conscious control, and is for most intents a third arm. But it has some autonomy, and will move to parry or cut anything directly threatening its wielder's life. As it stands, it seems to have reached its maximum power, and most of its enhancement now lies in the technique and improvement of Reggie himself. However, he's spent some time thinking to himself that the cuts he inflicts don't seem to be based on the real sharpness of the blade or an application of physical force/dexterity. The blade just cuts what it touches, regardless of opposing forces.

It's led him to wonder just how it works and, if he could learn to perceive beyond the surface level of the physical world, what ELSE he could cut.

Spoiler: Anna Holloway aka Iron Maiden

Name: Anna Holloway

DUP Codename: Iron Maiden

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Appearance: Anna is a Caucasian woman and stands at 5'8" 134 lbs. She has short black hair and green eyes. She is often seen wearing simple cloths, A black t-shirt, a spiked choker, ripped jeans with a spiked belt, spiked wrist bands and sneakers. She has piercings in her right eyebrow left nostril, and lower lip. a silver barbell and studs respectively. She also has small earrings in both ears and studs above them. She has a few rings on her fingers, mostly for decoration, that she's developed a habit of playing with when anxious, worried, or bored. She wears a pair of headphones around her neck with an MP3 in her pocket. Various Heavy Metal songs can be faintly heard at any given time.

Personality: Despite her outward appearance Anna is very friendly and often has a smile ready for those willing to do the same. While she cannot stand those who would condemn her for something she cannot control, she understands them. Conduits have done some major damage, but Anna wants to show them that they aren't all destructive. Anna would prefer to get everyone away from Conduits for a time, give everyone a chance to calm down, and give the Conduits some time gain control over their powers so that they can actually help humanity, rather than terrorize it.

Biography: Anna was born in a small town in Virginia to a decidedly average family. Her father and mother owned a music store that favored Heavy Metal. They were both very supportive of their daughter, encouraging her to follow whatever path she chose. they were overjoyed when she took a liking to Metal music. The energy and sounds that came with it enraptured her young mind and led her down a path she would enjoy immensely. After graduating High School her parents decided on a vacation to Washington D.C. Sadly this was not long before the Beast made it's way through. They were trapped in Washington when the Beast passed by the city. It was quarantined and the higher officials escaped leaving the people to suffer. Riots began to spread. It was during one such riot that Anna lot her parents; Anna had tried to save a little girl that had been caught in the middle of the citizens trying to escape and he guards along the perimeter. She heard gunfire and a scream. On instinct she tried to shield the girl as best she could. She felt something impact on her left shoulder and the sound of the bullet hitting metal.

She looked up to check her surroundings only to see that the fighting had stopped. Now everyone was staring at her, she looked down and saw the little girl looking up in awe. A woman screamed and snatched the girl away, calling Anna a monster. She looked at her hands and saw her own reflection. Her skin had turned to metal. Now the screams erupted again, this time directed her. Her parents told her to run and tried to keep the mob from attacking. One of the guards didn't even give a warning before he killed them both.

So Anna ran, and tried to keep her powers hidden. Months later she found herself in Detroit, on the street, simply trying to survive and not reveal her new found powers. A few weeks later she was able to get herself cleaned up from the months on the road and able to get herself a job at music store. She started to get her life back together bit by bit. And when she heard of someone trying to make a better life for Conduits, while not hurting others, she joined as soon as she could.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation

Powers: Metal Mimicry. Anna can change her skin at will to have all the properties of steel. In combat she'll use this to make herself a living shield, able to withstand nearly anything. Possible Evolution's could be a change in the metal or forming weapons.

Spoiler: Skylar Henderson aka Zephyr

Name: Skylar 'Sky' Henderson

DUP Codename: Zephyr

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Appearance: Standing at 5'4" and weighing 110 lbs., Sky has dark brown hair which she keeps cut very short, and light gray eyes that almost always make her look a bit colder than she's feeling. Befitting her ability, Sky's body is very svelte (though she definitely is visibly fit, especially with regard to leg musculature and running), and her skin is lightly tanned.

For clothing, Sky generally dresses like a runner: in warmer weather, favoring running shorts, tennis shoes, and a tight-fitting tank top -- usually black for the visual effect -- and a blue-and-white sports jacket. Colder weather will see longer pants and shirt, as well as a thicker jacket in the same style, but the color scheme remains, and viability for running remains paramount. Sky will usually discard the jacket before using her power for a significant period.

Personality: A free spirit, Sky isn't much for subtlety, though she is usually cordial at first appearance. Sky might seem to reflect the impatience stereotypical to speedsters, but this is not usually an overwhelming trait. Sky demonstrates a certainty in the need of the Conduit Nation's actions, but seems to lack the seriousness needed for a genuinely convicted lifestyle.

Biography: Sky was born and raised in Atlanta with her parents and older brother. There, she lived a relatively carefree life, even secure from the Beast's assault on the eastern seaboard; however, Sky did not remain unaware of the rising number of Conduits forming, looking at the phenomenon with mixed feelings -- neither condemning the 'afflicted' (as her parents saw the matter) nor seeing how her family could peaceably live in such an environment. So, naturally, when Sky became a Conduit, she kept the matter nearly secret until leaving her family one day for their safety. Certain actions, especially on the part of her brother Terry, leave her unsure as to exactly how much they knew or what they truly felt. Sky journeyed toward Detroit, keeping her powers secret and discovering a love for travel. It was memory of the disquietude of the Beast and the times that followed that caused Sky to join up with the Conduit Nation; while part of Sky wishes everyone could freely live together, separation seems for the best after how things have gone.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation

Powers: Time reduction, in that Sky's conduit power creates a localized field which has the upshot of allowing her to experience events -- and move -- faster, without the physical taxation of a traditional speedster. The power's main offensive capabilities lie in allowing Sky to notice and take advantage of opportune moments, though the resultant ability to dodge and provoke overextensions usually proves more useful. She can maintain double speed for relatively long periods without issue, though trying to go much faster will tire her.

Notable limits in Sky's power include her inability to include much of anything else in the effect (she cannot currently carry other people through it, or use it to allow vehicles to move faster); further, the nature of her speed does not provide her with viable kinetic energy supplementation for combat. As for weaknesses, if Sky trips, the effect ends and she becomes disoriented due to the sensory change as well as the act of falling. Further, the field does not provide any protection for anything against which dodging would not normally help (so if it hits, it hits like it would've normally). Finally, Sky will become tired after disengaging from a significant time using her power. Increasing her endurance, increasing the time differential, and extending the effect are all things Sky strives to achieve.

Spoiler: Arthur Herbst aka Mentalist

Name: Arthur Herbst

Code Name: Mentalist

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Appearance: A dirty blonde with short, parted hair atop a high forehead, Arthur looks like someone on the go. He stands close to six feet tall, is clean-shaven, and always has a thoughtful expression on his face. He has dark eyes, prone to spontaneous darting around, taking in his environment. Arthur favors button-up shirts and ties, he prefers business-style clothing, and presenting a serious demeanor. Other than he's relatively unremarkable, he seems like the average businessman, straitlaced, serious.

Personality: Serious, and always seems slightly ticked off. Arthur is stressed, partly due to his work, and partly due to becoming a Conduit. He's dark, and somewhat pessimistic, but for whatever reason, continues to take up the cause of the Conduit Nation. Despite his protests, he likes being busy and can't stand sitting still when he could be doing something. He's nervous about Conduits, despite being one himself, though he feels compelled to try to make peace between Conduits and the rest of the world. Not unapproachable, but prone to callousness on occasion.

Biography: Arthur had a fairly normal life. He had middle class parents who worked for a living. His father was a manager at a local power company, his mother taught high school students. He had two siblings, one older, one younger, whom he was close with.

He was an above-average student in school, had a few fewer friends than average, but was otherwise fairly normal. He had a few girlfriends in high school, got drunk underage, and got a few scholarships which helped him get into college.

In college, Arthur took up debate and did light journalism for the school newspaper. He majored in English, not quite certain where he wanted to go. After drifting around through odd-jobs and internships, he graduated and took on work as a bureaucrat at the FBI.

Arthur's main job at the Bureau was to manage the databases, and process field reports, tip-offs, and other information, useful and otherwise, to make sure they were on top of everything. It was during this data processing that he first heard about Conduits.

At first it was the odd report, probably fake, about someone seeing something impossible; a person who threw fire from their hands, a man who fell from seven stories and got back up as though nothing happened, a monster lurking in shadowed alleys. They were all brushed off, but they soon began coming in greater frequency, and in connection with a group: the First Sons.

No one knew much about the Sons. Were they a terrorist cell? A cult? An ultra-black-ops organization that they weren't allowed to know about? Nobody knew. Then Empire City happened. The Ray Sphere detonated, and a second one went off in New Marais. A threat they weren't prepared for had broken upon them, and no one knew how to react.

Around this time, Arthur began to notice some changes of his own. He was suffering from near-constant headaches, and when he went to sleep, sometimes things would change. He would wake up in another part of his house, or the furniture would be rearranged. At first he brushed it off, but as the weeks went on, and reports of new "Conduits" began surfacing, each boasting impossible powers.

After seeing the devastation of the eastern seaboard, the Bureau began a crackdown on Conduits. They were labelled a menace, dangerous to society at best, cold hearted killers at worst. With knowledge of the "Conduit gene," people began to know what to look for, and a purge began. Everyone was tested at the Bureau, across every government department, suggestions to test the entire population were floated, but that was impractical. For now.

Seeing this, Arthur knew he couldn't pretend anymore. He was a Conduit, and it wasn't safe for him anymore. He left, hearing that Conduits were rallying to Detroit, and forming their own society. A new beginning.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation, he wants the matter settled in the cleanest manner possible. He's currently trying to broker a cease-fire between the DUP and the Conduit Nation, as well as trying to form a united front with the FCL.

Powers: Telekinesis. Arthur can manipulate his physical environment with his mind, though there are limits. He can't lift very heavy objects, 250 lbs is the greatest weight he's managed to move thus far using only his mind. He can also conjure telekinetic shields, though that takes a great deal of energy and concentration. He can use telekinetic force to strike enemies at range as well.

Free Conduit League

Spoiler: Guy Nelson aka Giant

Name: Guy Nelson.

DUP Codename: Giant.

Age: 31.

Gender: Guy's a dude.

Appearance: Guy is a big guy. Standing some 6'3 ft. tall, with broad shoulders and fairly well defined muscles he's used to being the biggest man in the room. With male pattern baldness having taken a hefty toll on his hairline he keeps his dark hair, what little there's left of it, as closely trimmed as possible. Guy prefers his sizeable jaw cleanly shaven as well, a no-nonsense style dominating his appearance. Heck, Guy would balk at the notion that he has any particular "style" at all. Further evidence of this can be found in his dress code, which consists mainly of baggy sweatshirts and baggier cargo pants. However, this too is just for the sake of practicality; in using his powers Guy undergoes physical changes that necessitate loose clothing. His already imposing stature may change into one not seen outside superhero comics. As illustrated by Rob Liefeld.
He has also taken to wearing heavy boots and Kevlar gloves in an effort to protect his extremities in combat.

Personality: The conduit upheaval has had a marked impact on Guy. The shift from being just another breadwinner with a steady job and a fiance looking to settle down, to a fugitive on the run from his own government has installed a paranoid and nervous streak in him. Guy doesn't quite know who to trust anymore, least of all his chosen faction. This has led to him becoming a far more quiet and reserved man than he once was, which coupled with his physique make many mistake him for the stoic, brooding warrior type. This couldn't be further from the truth. Guy is afraid, deathly afraid that he will never see his family again, and tries to watch out for himself. As of late, he is also becoming quite afraid that, with his faction's sometimes ruthless methods, he may not be able to look in family in the eyes again should he ever see them.

Biography: Guy's life was a fairly uneventful one prior to the appearance of conduits. He was as horrified as every other average Joe and plain Jane at the events in Empire City and New Marais. He was no less horrified when he himself began displaying powers. Guy worked as a fitness instructor in Minneapolis when Major Rourke began his purge. Having already begun to display some hints of his powers Guy was forced to flee the city, leaving behind both family and a fiance. This was no easy departure, his family insisting that he save himself, whilst Guy swore that he would return. Hitting the road, he made his way to the one place where every other conduit seemed to be headed: Detroit. Living there, surviving on begging and odd jobs, Guy eventually ran into the two dominating factions of the city. While he sympathized with the goal and especially the methods of the Conduit Nation, their organization was not an option for him. Guy didn't want a new home; he already had a home. A home where family and loved ones were waiting for him. Only the Free Conduit League offered him a way back, so it was with great trepidation that he accepted membership into the faction. Even now Guy is less than happy about the methods employed by his fellow conduits in the faction, but he is determined to find his way back home. And now Major Rourke is bringing the fight to him.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League.

Powers: Plain old super strength. Or rather, they appear to be just that. Guy's actual power is that of muscle density control. He can change the volume, mass and density of his muscle tissue. Simply making his muscles bigger renders Guy far stronger and somewhat faster, but it's his density control that makes him superhuman. By increasing the density of his muscles these take on properties that organic tissue just shouldn't have, instead being more akin to metal. Supernaturally durable, Guy can perform feats of strength that would make normal muscle tissue snap. This durability also has defensive utility, as Guy can withstand heavy blows and even conventional bladed weapons. Of course, with the increased density comes weight and Guy can push himself up to several hundred kilos. Guy doesn't know what the upper limit of his power is, but has noticed that the density makes him progressively slower.
Unfortunately, while he can harden his entire musculature Guy's powers do not extend to the rest of his body. His skin is as vulnerable as ever, making him hesitant to go into battle without some sort of protective wear. Any opponent of his would also do well in targeting any part of his body less protected by his supernaturally tough muscles, such as his joints and head. Making matters worse is that while his powers have obvious offensive potential, Guy has little to no actual combat training. This can, however, be remedied with experience, and practice could unlock other avenues of power usage, such as increasing his density to near-invulnerable levels, or overloading his muscles for potentially terrifying results.

Spoiler: Samantha Heller aka Vinyl

Name: Samantha "Sam" Heller

DUP Codename: Vinyl

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Appearance: As far as first impressions go, Sam rarely makes much of an impact. Standing at roughly 5'6" and weighing in at a mere 140 lbs, she doesn't exactly strike an imposing figure. A head of dirt-brown hair hangs down to her shoulders, typically in whatever state of disarray it was in when she stepped out of the shower, and neatly covers up most of her face. Even when her hair is actually combed aside, her vision is rarely unimpeded. Her emerald eyes seem to be stuck in a half-open state, as though its too much of a bother to keep her eyelids either fully opened or closed.

Though Sam's not exactly a looker, there is a slight hint of attractiveness to her visage. Smooth, mostly unblemished features, a pair of unpierced and quite whole ears, no noticeable scars or tattoos; hell, if she'd go through the trouble of putting her hair back and adding a bit of make-up, she could probably turn her fair share of heads. But, if the apparently permanent look of apathy scrawled across her face is any indicator, the odds of that happening are all but non-existent.

Going a little lower, Sam's body isn't much to look at, at least at first glance. Her chest is mostly smooth, with only a bit of a curve, and her limbs aren't exactly impressive either. However, a closer inspection tells another story: Sure, it's true that Sam is a bit lacking when it comes to rippling biceps and the like, but the muscles she does have are all tough and well-defined. She doesn't have the massive frame of a bodybuilder, but the smooth, lithe build of an acrobat, the kind of body that values flexibility and endurance over brute strength.

Judging by her pale, slightly tinted skin, Sam's blood is mostly a ill-bred mixture of European and Eastern nationalities. While there's certainly a possibility of other races getting mixed in there, what kind and in what amount is anyone's guess; Sam certainly hasn't bothered to find out.

When it comes to clothes, Sam prefers to dress in a few layers. Not that she really has much of a choice, now that she's a Conduit and all...

First, of course, are her socks and unmentionables. Nothing fancy or anything; it's not like they're for show. Next comes a threadbare tank-top in a very, very dark blue, and a reasonably clean pair of pants. Her chest and upper-arms are covered by a jacket, the same muted yellow color as a wilting dandelion. Though its sleeves cut off just above Sam's elbows, it still manages to trap enough heat to keep her warm on a chilly night.

Finally, a pair of aged, but not quite decrepit, tennis shoes adorn Sam's feet. Thick, clunky, and tied together by a couple fraying laces, the shoes are covered in a mish-mash of scratches and are tarnished by stains from almost any substance imaginable. Mud, ash, rust, these babies have seen it all and come out (mostly) no worse for the wear. No pun intended.

One accessory, a thick belt, bulging with pockets and slots for a cell phone, wallet, and whatever else needs to be carried, is slung across Sam's waist at a haphazard angle. Its dark leather is well worn, almost falling apart in some places, but it's managed to hold together this long; odds are it won't be giving up on life anytime soon.

Personality: At her core, Sam is a more than a little pessimistic, tending to always assume the worst of any situation or anyone she runs into. If the woman had her way, then the vast majority of the world's population, aside from the few people she's willing to tolerate, would go out of their way to just stop bothering her. Of course she realizes that her fantasy isn't ever going to come to pass, but you can't blame her for dreaming, can you?

Most of the time, Sam carries herself with a lazy, languishing air, as though she's constantly half-asleep. Her voice is quiet and monotone, she's horrible about making eye-contact, and at times she'll simply ignore anybody else in the room while she sinks into her own thoughts.

Beneath her typically quiet exterior, however, Samantha's actually pretty strong-willed. She'll lead her life exactly as she pleases, thank you very much, and no DUP, Conduit Nation, or weakass nobodies are going to tell her otherwise. Try to impede her at your own risk; unless you're one of the few people that have managed to earn her respect, Sam won't hesitate to put you in your place.

Biography: Prior to the Beast's rampage across the East Coast, Samantha had a pretty normal life. Sure, she might've been a bit grumpier than the norm, but she had friends, family, a home, and even a stable job. Living the American Dream right there.

However, all of that changed when the behemoth tore through South Carolina on its way down to New Marais, slaughtering nearly everyone in the state without a Conduit gene. About a day after the destruction of her hometown and the deaths of almost everybody she knew, Sam woke up, apparently one of the "lucky" survivors. Shocked and terrified out of her mind, the distraught girl tried to flee the ruins of her life, but was quickly found and taken in by the military and civilian force trying to clean-up after the disaster.

Though Sam had only been on the outskirts of the Beast's reach, thereby only receiving a relatively weak dosage of its power, it was only a few days later that her powers began to awaken. Unaware of what was happening to her and suddenly ostricized by the people who had been trying to help her, Sam was almost taken into military custody, but managed to escape through panicked, instinctual use of her new abilities.

Over the course of the next several years, Sam slowly made her way across the country. Having long since given up on being understood by the general populace, the Conduit willfully abused her powers and strength to get by, sometimes joining up with other outcasts like herself. However, the formation of the DUP further ruined any chance at stability she might have found. Eventually, the woman found herself in Detroit, a city with enough Conduit power to resist the DUP's authority.

So, she decided to stay.

Sam's been living in the city for about two years now, and has even made a bit of a name for herself as one of the League's agents. With the DUP closing in on her and the other Conduits, she's decided that once and for all, she's done running. The only way Rourke's getting into Detroit is by going over her dead body.

Affiliation: Sam doesn't particularly enjoy tying herself to one group or another, but if she had to, it'd be the Free Conduit League. At least when she's working with them, it's easier for her to get some food and a place to sleep.

Powers: Paper Composition: When she became a Conduit, Sam's body, as well as the clothes she was wearing at the time, gained the ability to turn into a sort of organic "paper"; several hundred sheets of a microthin substance mostly made up of carbon and hydrogen. Samantha can separate her body, either all or part of it, into individual pieces at will, and can move them about and reform them elsewhere through a telekinetic type process. This allows her a certain type of short distance flight, though strong winds will normally play havoc with her separated body. It should be noted that her belt and its contents are not a part of her new body; she either needs to carry it along when she splits apart or leave it somewhere and retrieve it later.

In addition to her already above-average hand-to-hand combat skills, Samantha's powers give her a neat offensive ability: She can use individual pieces of paper as cutting implements, and while she's not exactly capable of slicing steel plates in half, it doesn't take that much to cut someone's arteries, eyes, or other soft, fleshy parts.

Defensively, Sam can turn into paper and allow most purely physical attacks to pass right through her, and while she will die if enough of her paper is destroyed (she needs to be able to form all her major organs when she reforms), she can generate more paper by eating or resting. She's not Wolverine, but she can regenerate a missing limb or two over the course of a few days.

While Samantha isn't any more flammable than anyone else, she doesn't have any particular resistances or immunities either, at least not beyond those that all Conduits have. Electricity will still throw her nervous system out of whack, acid will burn her horribly, bullets can tear her paper to shreds, etc. In addition, getting splashed with liquids will either make it harder for her body to separate or make her individual papers too heavy to move about on their own.

In the future, it's possible that Sam might gain more precise control over her body, keeping it together for longer bursts of flight, manifesting monomolecular cutting tools, etc.

Spoiler: Ben Creed aka Assault

Name: Benjamin Creed

DUP Codename: Assault

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Appearance: Stands at 6 feet with relatively short auburn hair and bright hazel eyes flecked with gold. Ben prefers clothes that are functional and easy to replace as they got worn out from use, now more than ever. His features are neither particularly attracive or unattractive, but once in motion he has a strange grace and beauty.
Personality: Ben is, in general, a happy man. This is not because he is easy going, but because he aggressive seeks to protect his powers, his freedom, and his pleasure. This kind of nature has led him to detest the DUP, which goes against everything he seeks out in life. He considers himself wise enough to know that the DUP will never let the Conduits go free, and is dead set on crushing them. While not admitting it, he also knows that as much as he's running towards a new life, he's running away from his old one, and dreads the day it catches up with him. Becoming a Conduit hasn't changed his opinion of other people, and doesn't consider other conduits or "himself" as supreme beings, only humans with their own strengths and weaknesses and all generally equal.

Biography: Once an up-and-coming college graduate with the "perfect life" Ben's parents wanted for him. With his budding career, fiancée, and new house, they couldn't have been prouder of their son. Unfortunately for Ben himself, that kind of existence felt static and boring, something he went through the motions for to please other people. Even the Beast and the supposed Conduit Threat felt far away, a nightmare (or in Ben's case, a secret fantasy) that could never be a part of reality. However, a day came when he attained the powers he had thought to be outside his reach, and for the first time in a long time he felt alive. The growth was slow at first, and he kept it secret. Every day he explored what he could do, and every day he grew stronger. Eventually, he could no longer stand living his ordinary life and fled to Detroit, a land he saw as a haven to explore his new powers and become the man he wanted to be.

Affiliation: FCL

Powers: Ben's power is Kinetic Energy Manipulation. Currently he can amplify or diminish kinetic energy applied to an action, though his manipulation of energy creates a white light effect, revealing it. With his current basic control of his powers, Ben has access to faux super strength, adding extra kinectic energy to his punches for faster and harder hits. Eventually, his power could grow to channel and unleash kinetic energy into a static object, improves his mobility with enchanced jumps/dashes, or carry kinetic past his own actions as a projective/shockwave. Ben recharges through diminishing and absorbing kinetic energy from others and himself, which can also reduce impact and damage. The weakness in his powers stems from the short range of both his recharge and affectable range, with any long range attacks weakening with distance (especially if there is no object carrying the energy). Due to the nature of his ability, fighting any non-physical ability is a challenge, being unable to directly counter or defend any such attacks with his own abilities.

Spoiler: Mary Harrell aka Mimic

Name: Mary Harrell
DUP Codename: Mimic
Age: 22
Gender: Female

Appearance: Mary is a bit on the taller side, standing at 5'10 with an athletic, slim frame. She's fair of skin, though a bit more on the pasty side, with a heart shaped face usually sporting a small smile. Her straight dark hair is worn short, only reaching the nape of her neck and brushed behind her ears. Mary is at least semi fashionable, though still more worried about comfort, and clearly loves the color black. Her favorite outfit is a light blue plaid shirt over a black tank top, black cargo pants, running shoes and a beanie. She is never seen without her thin framed glasses, which she needs to fucking see, and a taser, for self defense/sadistic amusement.

Personality: Mary can come off as a bit creepy. She has an odd habit of staring at people, she calls it people watching but that doesn't necessarily make it more comfortable. She's a tad lazy, and likes to joke around a lot, but can become laser focused on some things. Usually to the point of neglecting near everything else. She is decently creative, and liked writing when she was younger. She has a lot of empathy for everyone, and doesn't believe Conduits are as dangerous as they say. After all, her powers aren't so unique, are they?

Biography: A standard, boring upbringing from California. Her dad was a cop and her mom worked a 9-5, both with heavy liberal leanings, though they split when Mary was 10. Mary learned something about discipline, and was supported in most her choices, allowed to do what she wanted. She ended up building a strange skillset when the Beast started it's apocalyptic rampage through the other side of the country.

Her mother ended up travelling to the devastated areas after all was said and done, with little Mary in tow. When she started showing signs of being a conduit, she kept it mostly hidden, though suddenly becoming talented in arts she had never seen before threw off her mom. After awhile, she was outed, and her mom sent her to Detroit fearing for her safety. With no one to speak of around her, she's been almost all alone, though she believes she should be allowed to live with her parents and old friends in wherever she so chooses.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League

Powers: To put it simply, she can copy anything she sees. From parkour, to driving, to fighting, she can perfectly copy what she sees. To help with this, she also has a higher agility, endurance, and strength than most ordinary humans, and has been gifted a near eidetic memory. Nothing compared to most, but she is creative in her uses, and can be as effective as most Conduits with preparation.

Mary can't, however, copy things that she can't sense. So, sleight of hand tricks and singing and such aren't things she can copy. She also can't copy other people's powers. Mary can retain abilities learned for one month at max, with a near unlimited number of things she can learn.

Spoiler: Dean Meadows aka Foxglove

Name:Dean Meadows. But he prefers to use the nickname Hemlock.

DUP Codename:Foxglove. This codename has become associated with Hemlock because of his tendency to leave the plant of the same name sprouting from his victims' mouths.

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Appearance: Hemlock is an average height of six foot, with a muscular - if not well-toned - body. He hasn't got a six pack but is fairly slim. His hair is dark brown, shaved short at the back and sides with it slightly longer on top, often slicked back. About a week's worth of stubble always seems to grace his face, giving Hemlock a particularly rogueish and crumpled appearance.

Looking at Hemlock's hazel eyes, one might think he has the beginnings of jaundice; the sclerae appear to be slightly yellowed. In fact, Hemlock's sclerae are faintly green, so pale as to appear yellow. No matter the colour, people who notice tend to assume he's sick in some way. Aside form his eyes, Hemlock's face is fairly nondescript. He has no other discernible features to pick him out from a crowd.

More often than not, Hemlock wears clothes designed for comfort. His usual attire is a plain, dark green zip-up hoody with a black t-shirt underneath, baggy grey jeans and light grey skate shoes. Usually, Hemlock wears the sleeves of his hoody bunched up at his elbows and the zip done up only to his belly button. He maintains that it's the most comfortable way to wear a hoody, although it does show off his complex weave of black vine tattoos that run up both arms.

Personality: Hemlock stands on the extreme right of Conduit politics. In many ways he agrees with the human government's call that Conduits are dangerous. He simply wants other Conduits to realise this so a mass culling of all humanity can be achieved. Simply put, Hemlock hates humanity and it's treatment of Conduits. He feels the necessity to destroy the leaders who are trying to cage him and his peers and, eventually, take control of the Earth as a separate - and obviously dominant - species.

Abrasive, opinionated and hard, Hemlock doesn't care what others think of him. He simply lives how he wants to, slowly trying to push his personal mission of creating a Conduit-ruled Earth. However, he is a clever and somewhat learned man and knows when to back down or retreat when he's losing. Whether it's a physical fight or a less violent battle of wits, Hemlock knows when he's beaten and will graciously back away or step aside. Instead of leaving alone though, Hemlock will consider his failures, adapt himself and find new ways to confront what has beaten him.

One thing that Hemlock struggles with is his desire to destroy humanity, and his love and passion for nature and the conservation of the planet. Due to his past life as a conservationist, and also the development of his powers, Hemlock has a very strong affinity with plants. He will take great lengths to preserve plantlife and feels happier around it too. Hemlock's belief that humanity has no regard for the planet and it's natural beauty fuels his hatred of them but he knows that in order to destroy humanity, much of the planet's natural beauty will have to be destroyed too. A battle on such a scale would potentially cripple most of nature; Hemlock knows this and weeps, but he also believes that humanity should be gravely punished for what they've done. He wants to punish, but will try to preserve as much of the planet as he can in the process.

Powers: What the DUP have called Floramancy.

Hemlock can create plants. From his palms, he can sprout any plant so long as he has studied it. Having dedicated a good chunk of his life to the study of plants, Hemlock's 'arsenal' is rather large. Through experience, he has found that one of the most effective weapons at his disposal are the creation of wisteria vines. One of the strongest vines in existence, Hemlock can shoot these from his hands to wrap up his enemies, grab out-of-reach objects and create alternate ways up buildings etc. He has also been known to simply grab men by the throat and hang them with the vines.

Hemlock's signature kill, however, requires an up-close-and-personal approach. If Hemlock places his hands over any orifice, he can force plants to grow into the person and through their body. The one that he has become most infamous for among the DUP however, is his use of the Foxglove. Placing his hand over each ear, Hemlock forces a Foxglove to grow through the victim's head and sprouting the flowers out of their mouth. There is nothing significant about the Foxglove flower, except that Hemlock finds it beautiful.

By touching objects, Hemlock can make plants grow into and through them. He often uses this to weaken structures such as locks, doors and even buildings. However, the restriction to this power is that the material must have some sort of opening, even if it's just a crack. A solid steel wall or door that has no superficial weakness or opening cannot be exploited.

It is important to note that Hemlock cannot control plants, he simply causes them to grow at an alarming rate. He does believe that given time and enough practice, he should be able to control smaller flora, but all attempts so far have been unsucessful.

Having a strong affinity with plants, Hemlock seems to gain power from the sun (much like photosynthesis). If he is out of sunlight for too long (we're talking a week, not hours) he will become fatally weak. Water is also more imprtant to him than it is to most other humans, and Hemlock seems to drink well over what is needed for a human to survive. An obvious weakenss to his power would be fire. The plants Hemlock creates are no different to ordinary plants; they burn just the same, and Hemlock himself is especially wary around fire, more so than the average human would be.

Spoiler: Biography

Dean Meadows grew up in a rough estate in London, raised by his single mother. He wasn't a good kid - often falling into the wrong crowds, getting into fights, breaking laws and such things. Whilst he was still a teenager, it dawned on Dean that the high-rise flats and bland, concrete buildings were somehow wrong. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, but everything in London seemed so oppressive. It was around this time that Dean decided to remove himself from the gangs he had associated himself with. Instead of causing havoc on the London streets, Dean began spending much of his time in the more natural areas of London; Bushy Park, Hyde Park, Regent's Park - anywhere away from the oppressive grey of London. Dean also started going to the Natural History Museum regularly to learn more about plant life and their significance.

At the age of twenty, after having volunteered and worked at the Natural History Museum for a collective four years, Dean joined a particularly militant conservation group and set to work on his life's passion, saving the planet's natural beauty. The next ten years saw Dean help in conservation operations around the world, some violent and some peaceful. As his stunts and operations became a bit more dangerous and a bit more inflammatory, prisons around the world were more often a home to him than his London flat, although sometimes the conditions were better (not the South American ones, though, definitely not!) It wasn't long before Dean Meadows became infamous for his unwavering resove on the issues of planet conservation, with many calling him a crackpot and most governments calling him dangerous.

When Dean's powers started to manifest at the age of twenty-nine, he considered it a magnificent blessing, allowing him to do his work even more efficiently. He continued to work with the original conservation group, travelling the world to areas that needed it most. With his powers he would help the plants regrow and lay a decent foundation for wildlife and ecosystems to thrive. Soon though, his infamy and powers mixed with the DUP's desire to hunt down all Conduits caused the conservation group - the very people he had risked his life for, the people he considered more a family to him than his own mother - to take drastic measures and turn him over to the authorities.

Betrayed and broken by those he trusted, Dean was imprisoned in a high security prison. However, it didn't take long for him to break out using his powers and a number of DUP operatives were killed (left with flowering Foxgloves pushing out from their gaping mouths). Dean went on the run across the world, but continued to travel to areas that needed heavy conservation. Even running for his life, Dean couldn't forget his promise to save the Earth and so would work alone for as long as he could, helping rainforests and meadows grow before being chased away - often under fire - by local authorities or even the DUP if they had found him.

After a year and a half of being a fugitive and fighting a battle that was seemingly futile, Dean broke. He realised that trying to save the Earth was pointless with humanity still running rampant over it, their disregard for nature a slow and painful death for the world's beauty. It was at this time that Dean began using the name Hemlock. He vowed to be a poison to humanity, a toxin that would drain the life out of those who had turned their back and walked away from him. He could put his crusade to save the Earth on hold amd begin a new crusade. Topple those that were in charge of ruining the planet, destroy those that wanted to trap the Conduits behind bars. And so Dean Meadows became Hemlock, a deadly poison to the human race.

For a year Hemlock picked his targets, often business CEOs and men in charge of tearing down large plots of land around the world. He found himself in South America most often than not, targeting those that would decimate the rainforests. Somehow, without any military or martial skills or experience, he succeeded on a number of occasions, always ensuring to leave a Foxglove sprouting from the vicim's mouth, just to taunt the DUP. However, Hemlock knew he needed an army of Conduits to help him and he'd heard that the best place to go was Detroit, to meet with the Free Conduit League.

And so it is that Hemlock finds himself surrounded once again by the high-rise flats and bland, grey buildings so reminscent of his youth. He wasn't comfortable, but he knew it was necessary to succeed.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League (I know there are already loads of sheets for his affiliation but I think my character works best for this than the less violent Conduit Nation. I just love the juxtaposition of a man who uses plants and flowers - commonly associated with peace - as weaponry.)

 

[JdaS]

August, 17th 2016. 22:23:45. Detroit's East Side, somewhere deep in the basements of the Packard Automotive Plant.

Another summer night approaches the city of Detroit, Michigan. In the East Side of the city, in the expansive basements of what appears on the outside to be the same old Packard Automotive Plant, a decaying relic of the town's heyday as Motor City, voices can be heard.

If one were to venture deep enough into the echoing catacombs of this enormous building, past some fairly new looking security measures, one would find a headquarters. Bustling with activity. Bursting at the seams with excite--

"*YAAAAAAAAWWWWWWNNNN* GODDAMN, it's quiet today! There hasn't been a single trace of movement from no-one today, man. Not the FCL, not the usual gangs. I'm about to fall asleep here!"

The loud complaints originate from a large African-American man, slumped on the couch of the Conduit Nation's common room, some veins visible on his shiny bald head a testament to his chagrin.

Spoiler: Clifford Johnson aka Marrow

Name: Clifford Johnson

DUP Codename: Marrow

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Appearance: Clifford stands at a comfortable 5'9 and packs the muscular build of someone who DEFINITELY played college football. Dark skinned, Johnson keeps his head clean shaven and sports a black goatee. His eyes are a dark brown and seem locked in a slightly aggravated look. Clifford seems to prefer tank tops and work pants, with a pair of navy Timberland boots. In colder weather he adds a track jacket, preferring to keep his clothing as revealing and light as possible due to his powers.

Personality: Being a former Detroit Metro police officer, Clifford has seen... a lot of shit during his years on the force. Gang violence, senseless killing, domestic abuse, prostitution, drugs... All the worst that humanity has to offer. As such, he can come off as jaded and cynical, as well as somewhat surly and unapproachable. In reality though, Clifford is an exemplary man, with an unwavering sense of justice and has proved himself as a born leader. He's also quite fun once you get to know him

Biography: Clifford Johnson is Southwest Detroit, born and raised. Dubbed Mexicantown for its high concentration of Hispanic residents, Southwest Detroit wasn't all sunshine and roses, and Clifford struggled to keep away from gangs and drugs. He did, though, and after graduating from college, went on to become one of DPD's finest officers.
As his years on the force passed, however, Clifford found himself becoming more and more disenchanted with his work. Nothing seemed to change. Gangs continued to run rampant, the same dope fiends on the same blocks night after night. It seemed he was fighting a losing battle.
Then, Empire City happened, followed closely by The Beast's rampage. Thankfully Detroit was just out of the way. Until the RFI went off. Detroit's population dropped by 10% overnight, including a couple of his own relatives. Soon thereafter, Clifford's own powers emerged. Terrified, his wife abandoned him, taking his daughters with her to California.
Fast forward five years. Detroit is even more of a hellhole than before. Criminals and Conduits run afoul of the city, terrorizing the few decent citizens left. And now DUP wants to come shoot up the place. They'll have to get past Clifford's black ass first.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation. Clifford's own morals wouldn't allow him to kill as indiscriminately as the FCL does. Besides, he thinks a Nation of Conduits would be the best way to go in the beginning. He is adamant about reaching a peaceful solution to this conflict.

Powers: Bone Manipulation. Clifford is able to control his own bone structure. This allows him to protrude his bones in multiple ways, like shields, spikes or blades. One of his favorites are a pair of gauntlets that allow him to really get some mileage out of his boxing skills.

Another man, wearing a green track suit, is in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee. Popping his head out to comfort his friend:

"Relax, man! It's not everyday you get to enjoy a whopping 10 hours of free time! Heck, 2 more hours and we'll break our record for most time not on a job! You should go out and do something!"

Spoiler: Michael Duggins aka Xerox

Name: Michael Duggins

DUP Codename: Xerox

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: Michael stands at 5'8 and has the lean physique of a martial artist. He has quite a pale complexion and short, reddish brown hair. His eyes are green. Michael seems to prefer the gym look, wearing a white t-shirt, with green sweatpants and a matching track jacket with ?Ireland? embroidered in the back. On his feet he wears a pair of sneakers.

Personality: Michael is generally a very easy going guy. A great sense of humor and a friendly demeanor make him a good guy to have around in stressful times as these. For that reason, many in the group like to confide in him and some, like Sophie, look up to him, making him a sort of unofficial Nation shrink. Michael is a fitness enthusiast and can usually be found in the gym or out jogging. He's also known to be a pretty mean cook.

Biography: Before his ?new and exciting? life as a Conduit on the run from the Government, Michael Duggins was a martial arts instructor and stuntman in Hollywood, California. His life of glamour was cut short after the events of Empire City and beyond as his powers started to appear when all Conduits were thought dead. One day he woke up for breakfast only to find another him eating his all-bran and yet a third doppelganger already heading out for a jog. After getting some semblance of control over his power, he fled California, which was naturally high in the DUP's priority list. He roamed around for a while, before hearing rumors of a large concentration of Conduits in Detroit. When he arrived, he found the city torn between two factions. To Michael the choice was clear. He was going to stand up and fight for his right to a peaceful life.

Affiliation: Conduit Nation. Michael is one of the firmest believers in Wakefield's cause, believing a Conduit nation to be the best thing for both Conduits themselves as well as the general population.

Powers: Replication. Michael can replicate himself. The replicas are every bit as tangible as the original and are flawless copies with their own sets of senses. Whatever the replicas experience will be passed on to Michael when they return to him. However, wounding or killing a replica does not affect the original Michael in any way. Michael's current limit is 10 replicas at one time. His power, added to his prowess in a large amount of different martial arts, makes Michael a very tough opponent.

This just seemed to annoy the already irritated Marrow further.

"And do WHAT, fool? Take in the sights? Get me a nice, big whiff of the fumes and gunsmoke? Man, gimme a break. With those FCL assholes swarming over in Mexicantown, a guy can't even go visit his old neighborhood, shit."

Xerox sighs as he returns to his brewery.

"Okay man, whatever you say."

Clifford sits still for a moment. Stirs in his seat. He grunts.

"Where is everybody anyway? Where's the boy, Shortcut? Least he could do is play some Mario Kart with me to pass the damn time."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

August, 17th 2016. 22:28:48. Somewhere in the sewer system below Southwest Detroit.

Going down a well hidden maintenance shaft and adeptly navigating the labyrinthine passages of the Detroit Metro Sewer System, would eventually lead to a door with a biometric scanner. On the other side is the headquarters of the Free Conduit League. The dimly lit corridor is flooded with a light and an echo coming from what the members like to call "the game room".

"...in other news, the bio-terrorist threat continues in Seattle, where a man known as Delsin Rowe continues to violently resist the DUP and terrorize the local population. Captain Dale Cooper of the DUP had this to say...."

Sitting on the couch is a man of seemingly Asian origin, dressed in a black t-shirt and wearing white leather pants. Turning off the TV and switching to some music instead, the young man scoffs.

"Feh... Smoke tossing, grunge reject looking asshole. Bet that fucker wouldn't last a week in Detroit. Why's he getting all this coverage anyway? This is where it's all going down!"

Spoiler: Andrew Kuo aka Farenheit

Name: Andrew Kuo

DUP Codename: Farenheit

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Appearance: Andrew is an Asian-American man, standing at 6'1 and sporting an athletic physique. His hair is cropped into a clean cut and his dark brown eyes are usually set into a somewhat menacing look. Andrew's attire consists of biker attire. A white leather jacket with black stripes running down the sleeves with a black tank top underneath. Matching leather pants with black stripes and a pair of black biker boots. On his hands a pair of fingerless driving gloves. Underneath his jacket, Andrew's arms are covered in tattoos. Intricate depictions of a fiery inferno on his right, and a desolate arctic with what seems to be a beautiful Asian woman encased in ice on his left arm.

Personality: Caustic, to say the least, Andrew has a mean streak to him. A person trying to get to know him would be met by little more than a bad look and snide remarks. His checkered past, coupled with some personal tragedies to boot have left him cold and cynical. Andrew is also prone to violent outbursts of rage when confronted with a less than ideal set of circumstances, making him very much of an aquired taste.

Biography: Andrew Kuo was born into a wealthy Asian-American family in Washington D.C. His father was a prominent politician in the Republican Party, and his mother a successful lawyer. He also had an older sister, Lucy, whom he loved more than anyone else. They were inseparable as children. As they grew up, however, things changed.
Lucy was always the good one. She was well behaved, excelled at school, and finally landed a dream job as an NSA agent. Meanwhile Andrew got into fights, hung out with a bad crowd, until one day he dropped out of school and joined an Asian gang, racing motorcycles in the streets.
Despite their differences, they never broke contact, e-mailing each other regularly, the last e-mail he recieved from Lucy detailing her assignment to New Marais. Shortly thereafter, The Beast happened, and when the RFI went off, killing all Conduits, Andrew raced to New Marais only to confirm what he already feared. Lucy was dead. Overcome with grief, Andrew started tearing the derelict warehouse he found himself in, only stopping when he realized he'd torn it down. He was a Conduit as well. For the next 7 years he roamed around the states, causing trouble for everyone he blamed for the death of his sister: humans, Conduits, even the newly formed DUP. He now finds himself in Detroit, helping the Free Conduit League. For now.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League. Although he couldn't give a shit about either side's philosophies, Andrew isn't about to settle down in a Conduit reservation somewhere. He's determined to stay free, and will annihalate any one standing in his way.

Powers: Thermal Manipulation. Andrew is capable of controlling the temperature around him to an extreme degree. He can make it hot enough to melt solid steel or cold enough to shatter concrete like it were glass. Although he's incapable of actually controlling the fire and ice created by the changes in temperature, the sheer extreme temperatures he can reach as a result of 7 years of practice are likely to place him very high on the list of most dangerous Conduits alive.
As his powers offer him no boosts to his mobility, Andrew continues to get around on his trusty black 2009 Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R.

*CRACK*

A pool ball cracks into its peers as a man and a woman stand over the table, amused at Farenheit's outburst towards the news story. The male player looks over to the couch and laughs.

"Hahahahha! Didn't peg you for an attention whore, Kuo. I rather they spend their time doing glamour pieces about some pretty boy in Seattle than running around here to get snatched up by two-bit gangbangers, so we'd get to save 'em."

Spoiler: Henry Archer aka Halflife

Name: Henry Archer

DUP Codename: Halflife

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: Henry stands at 5'8 with an average physique. Well toned, but nothing out of the ordinary. His light brown hair is long and styled into a ponytail. Henry wears a burgundy bomber jacket (the irony is not lost on him) with a white t-shirt underneath. He wears a pair of black jeans with a black pair of Martens boots.

Personality: Despite his association with the FCL, Henry is not like many of his compatriots. A mostly positive and out-going guy, he makes it a point to hang out with the few people in the group that share his non-sociopathic tendencies. He worries about his brother and whether he'll ever see him without being ordered to blow him to smithereens. In battle he can become more callous, if only because his power is quite difficult to contain.

Biography: Ian and Henry Archer were born in Boston, Massachusetts, to an upper middle-class family. Ian was born first, Henry a year and a half later. They became inseparable. Growing up, the Archer boys wanted for nothing, which made them take life for granted. They slacked their way through High School, and by the time College came around, they decided they were done with school. They dropped out, Ian becoming a bartender in downtown Boston and Henry a freelance photographer, much to the disappointment of their parents who promptly disowned the two. Life suddenly became a lot harder for the Archer brothers but they were still having a blast, remaining friends and roommates.

All of this changed when Cole MacGrath happened. Boston was evacuated due to its close proximity to Empire City. The Beast's trek through the Eastern seaboard devastated the brothers' hometown, killing many of their friends. The Archers got separated only getting a few calls through to each other from time to time. Shortly after things calmed down, both Ian and Henry found that they had not only survived the Conduit purge, they were becoming Conduits themselves. They quickly got in touch, settling on Detroit for their rendez-vous. Their first meeting in 5 years was joyous, but shortlived. Turns out the two brothers had very different ideas about their futures as Conduits. Ian wanted to join up with the Nation, while Henry thought that the League was the right answer. Their disagreement devolved into a fight. One that razed a whole building. Both parted ways as brothers. And enemies.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League. While not espousing their more ruthless ideas, Henry thinks that concentrating all Conduits into a single, small plot of land is not a good idea. Thus, even if it means fighting his own brother, Henry fights for individual freedom.

Powers: Explosion Manipulation. Henry can create explosions by violently manipulating surrounding gases, mainly oxygen. He can control the size and strength of his blasts, but even then his power is very unstable, and could cause unwanted damage to the surrounding area and by extention to his allies. He's diligently working on getting more precise with his powers.

The man called Kuo scoffs again.

"Bah! Shut your trap, Archer. I just can't stand these chickenshit media outlets with their government sponsored bullshit, glossing over what's really going on with us and them.

By this time the female player had already sunken 3 balls with two shots. Taking a drag of her cigarette, she calls Halflife back into the game.

"Oi, Halflife! Ye gonna shoot, or should I just take yer money and get this over with?"

Spoiler: Sheena McDermott aka Icarus

Name: Sheena McDermott

DUP Codename: Icarus

Age: 36

Gender: Female

Appearance: Sheena stands at 5'6 and sports a very strong build. Looking at Sheena, you just know she's a soldier. She might've been quite easy on the eyes once, but the wear and tear of war has gotten the better of her. She looks tired, stressed, on edge. Her black hair is shaved on the sides. Shoulder length and slicked back on top. She has a slight tan from her time overseas. Her clothing is all about utility. A black turtleneck sweater with a grey army trenchcoat on top of it, as well as some urban camo cargo pants and a pair of SAS issue boots, provide her with a camouflage fitting her urban environment. Hanging from her neck are her dogtags. She's also seen smoking more often than not.

Personality: Cynical and quite abrasive, Sheena doesn't suffer fools. Anyone under her command is expected to perform flawlessly in battle and be able to hold their liquor when off-duty. Her experiences in the Middle East have had an impact on her, leaving her with hints of PTSD. She's not much of a sleeper and any sudden movements towards her are met with a cocked Beretta to the face. While she's not the worst psychopath in the FCL, you'd probably do well in avoiding to piss her off.

Biography: Sheena McDermott was born in Aberdeen, Scotland. She was an above average student, and upon graduating was accepted into the British SAS, where she became a sniper. She served in Iraq, where she remained even during the Conduit crisis in the U.S. When the RFI went off, Sheena was stationed in Syria, where the seemingly endless killing had started to take a toll on her. A year later, her powers began to make themselves known to her. As the British government began testing their troops for ?abnormalities?, Sheena decided to tend in her resignation. She grabbed her trusty rifle and... well, flew away.

Three years later she found herself in the employ of the FCL in Detroit, fighting once again, but this time for her own freedom.

Affiliation: Free Conduit League. Sheena wants to be free. Not only from the persecution she now faces as a Conduit, but also from futile bloodshed and killing. This is the last time she'll pick up the rifle. One way or the other.

Powers: Sheena's power is that of flight. As simple as it seems, Sheena is able to fly. Since this power only affects her mobility, Sheena has incorporated it into her skills as a master marksman, using her power to reach vantage points, from where she can then pick off targets with her L115A3 sniper rifle. If faced with a close range situation, two Beretta M9s will do the trick.

As the two pool sharks continue their game, Andrew gets up and walks up to the bar, opening the fridge and cracking open a beer.

"Too cold." He says, switching the beer over to his left hand, nearly freezing it in an instant and taking a gulp.

"Better. Now where's Hemlock? Dude said he'd have a drink with me..."

Spoiler: OOC

And that's our intro! Just some light exposition, some introductions to some of your main NPC buddies and a chance for you to get acquainted with your fellow players and so on. If you have any questions or criticisms, I'll try to get to them as soon as possible. Happy RPing!

Spoiler: More OOC

Also important! As you might've guessed already, your respective HQs are huge. They're underground and well secured and most of all they're your homes. Each HQ has all your basic stuff. A room for each member, a mess hall, recreational rooms like a gym, tv room, etc, Internet, command center and all that good shit.

 

[CJ1145]

On the far side of the room, one of the dozens of winding hallways stretching through the underbelly of the factory had a door; and that door opened. In through the door stepped a young boy, half their age and about that same ratio in height. Reggie Pier slipped in with a smile and a wave. "Evenin', fellas," he greeted his comrades. Though, they wouldn't know him by Reggie. His identity was still a secret, and at his insistence he was only a part-timer. Which is why he still wore most of his uniform into the base. A domino mask sat snugly on his face, and his dreadlocks were stuffed up and a boonie hat rested between his shoulders, kept dangling by a knotted pair of straps from its brim.

He came in quietly, hanging up his red and yellow hoodie on a hook in the wall. In his hands was a raggedly old backpack, full of textbooks and newspapers. Tonight's reading material.

"Anything new?" Shortcut asked as he plopped himself down in the nearest seat. "Bad guys need whooping? Days needing to be saved?"

 

[DarkRawen]

From looks of things, things were quiet. At least, as quiet as they got in Detroit. Johan didn't mind quiet, really, it always gave him a good opportunity to talk to people, and to be social. Today, though, he'd spent most of his time outside, sitting in the sun. He had gone back inside when the sun went down, and put on some other clothes, choosing to wear almost completely white. It was a nice shirt too, he'd taken good care of it because he liked the way it looked. He'd spent a while changing and relaxing, before going to find the others, heading to the common room as there always was someone there. He found several people there, the young part-timer, as well as some of the members older than him.

"Anything new? Bad guys need whooping? Days needing to be saved?"

"It seems pretty calm outside," Johan replied, as he walked inside. While his English was fluent, there was still a hint of a German accent as he spoke. Of course, just because it was calm now, it could certainly. "Then again, who knows, something always happens somewhere, right?" Johan spoke with an earnest tone, friendly and somewhat eagerly. He got a glass of water, then walked over to the couch and sat down, keeping a distance that was far enough to give people space, yet close enough to not seem unfriendly or rude.

"It's been a beautiful day, though. The sun's been shining, which is always good. How are you guys doing?" he asked, smiling. Like always, he glowed, a soft, almost warming light that made his presence rather obvious. "Excellent, I hope."

I wonder if they'll ask how I'm doing.

He hoped they would, since he wanted to share the good mood he currently was in. Besides, he'd consider himself liked, and he was charming and polite. Johan waited for someone to reply, paying attention to the others as he did.

 

[sage42]

Anna poked her head in through a door leading towards the sleeping quarter's. Her headphones sat on her neck, blaring a song that could now be faintly heard through out the room. "Damn Marrow could you yell any louder? I heard you through my music." She joked with a smile before fully entering the room. She pulled her MP3 out of her pocket and turned it down a little, enough to where only she could hear it. "Hey Zerox, Shortcut, Sun." She nodded to each in turn. She flopped onto the couch and kicked her feet up on the coffee table, her head bobbing slightly. "You gotta pick up a hobby dude." She told Marrow. "I got my music, Xerox has his work outs, Johan has his tanning, hell we all got somethin." She said with a smile. She turned her head to Johan "Speaking of which you seem to be in a good mood. Finally get some decent rays in between the smog clouds?"

Spoiler: For those of you curious as to what she was listening too.

 

[Arrogancy]

"Will everyone quiet down for a minute, I need to think!" Arthur snapped, coming in from his office. Well, "office" in as much as such things could be at the moment. He had claimed a small side room, set up a folding table, phone, and chair in there, and spent a good deal of time in there.

Running his hands through his hair, Arthur sighed. He didn't need quiet to think, not really, but he needed to shout. Pacing across the room he gave a few curt nods to Anna and the faintly ridiculous "hero" who'd been showing up on and off over the last few weeks.

He looked over toward the window that everyone else seemed to be staring out of. "God, what a miserable day." Arthur muttered. It was always miserable in Detroit, he hardly expected it to be different today. Even when the weather was nice, the DUP and the damn FCL idiots always made a mess of everything. It was nearly more than he could stand.

"Anything new from the FCL?" He asked Xerox and Marrow-wait, Duggins and Johnson. Damnit! He silently cursed himself for thinking about their code names. The others thought they were cool, but not him. Code names meant they were on the DUP's radar, that they were being tracked, quite possibly at this very moment, and that he had drifted dangerously far from normalcy.

 

[VuvuZelaMan]

Skylar Henderson (she usually went by Sky) was just finishing up some stretches in her room after getting back from a jog around the safe zone, clad in her usual Zephyr clothes for this time of year. Weather was the best it's been since I got here. Not a cloud in the sky today, and no crap from Team Deathkill, even. Since today had been relatively quiet, Sky figured she'd have been able to step out for a bit... but ten hours? That was nearing the record set by the Jenkins Incident ceasefire!

Well, I got to sleep in today, so I'll take it. Sky got up, heading for the common room. Since the day started, most everyone was occupying themselves as they usually would during free time (especially since the ceasefire was accompanied with the best weather all month), and it wasn't like Sky had any work left undone, so it made for a nice break. Maybe everyone else will be relaxed as well?

"*YAAAAAAAAWWWWWWNNNN* GODDAMN, it's quiet today! There hasn't been a single trace of movement from no-one today, man. Not the FCL, not the usual gangs. I'm about to fall asleep here!"

... Well, apparently not, but oh well. Bunch of people in the common room though. Sky walked straight in the common room.

"Hey everyone, how y'all doing today?" ... Shortcut still seemed to not want his face seen. "Part-timer, still incognito I see."

"Will everyone quiet down for a minute, I need to think!" Arthur seemed to be in the 'quiet=time to panic' camp.

"Nothin' today. Seems we're working for a new record."

 

[Anayna]

Somewhere deep below Southwest Detroit, in the FCL's gym, the guy they called Giant was training. Right now he was beating his bare knuckles raw against a punching bag, and despite what one might expect from a man with super-strength this was a pretty piddly display.

"Haah... haah..."

Guy was breathing hard and sweating bullets. He'd been at this for a while. More specifically, he'd been at it with nothing but what God and his years as a gym instructor had blessed him with; Guy wasn't using any Conduit powers and it was perfectly obvious that he wasn't terribly impressive without 'em. Which was partly why he was doing this. Despite years of training his body for health and viewing pleasure Guy had never had any combat training, so he really needed to practice his punches, now more than ever. He wasn't using his super-strength because it wasn't relevant in simply learning how to throw a punch, and also for practical reasons. Guy didn't know his own strength (literally; he has no idea what his upper limit is), but knew enough to determine that using his true strength in the gym wasn't worth it in broken equipment. And lastly... he just really liked being in the gym.
Being in the gym reminded him, however faintly, of being home in Minneapolis. Granted, the only resemblance between the high-end member's gym he had worked at and this underground bunker was their function, but it was still one of the few places he felt comfortable at. God, he missed his family. What were his parents doing right now? They hadn't heard from him in months. Was the government hassling them? He was on the DUP watch-list; had they ID'd him beyond that?

Guy's brow furrowed as he continued to throw punches that barely rocked the terribly unimpressed punching bag.

He had left Minneapolis just as Major Rourke and his inquisition came to town. How could the government not find that suspicious? Guy felt sick to his stomach at the thought of his family, friends and fiance being in any sort of trouble because of him. And was that bastard Rourke satisfied with driving him out of his home? No, now word was that he was heading to Detroit. It was like he was following him. What the hell was the guy's problem?! Well, Guy would be ready for him this time. He wasn't running this time. This time he intended to defend himself. This time he was going to crush any...

*SMASH*

Guy was brought back from his reverie by the sound of the punching bag flying across the room and smacking into the opposite wall. He looked at his outstretched right arm. It had ballooned up with muscle tissue. It looked like there were flexing boa constrictors under his skin.

"Damn it..."

Guy leaned against the wall and waited for his breathing to slow down. This was of course Major Rourke's problem: conduits that could potentially be harmful to others. Guy understood perfectly well why the government was using such drastic measures. Christ's sake, a conduit destroyed the entire damn East Coast. Of course measures had to be taken.

Well, tough shit 'cause he wasn't going anywhere. Guy had promised everyone back home that he would be back, and Atlas had promised him a way. That's how it was going to be and no one, be they government or the CN, were going to stop him.

 

[Pappytech]

"-can you hear me? Whoooooooa, can you get hip to what I'm saying?! These fashion zombies, don't walk this world alone~"

Sprawled out on her bed, Sam mouthed along to the familiar lyrics pulsing through her headphones, her foot twitching in time with the music's constant beat. Even with the door to her small, sparsely decorated room shut tight, the Conduit still had her jams blaring at an unnecessarily high volume (just barely falling short of causing permanent damage) to further ensure that she wouldn't be bothered by any passerby's conversation. The day had been nice and quiet so far, and the woman had no intention of doing anything to change that. None whatsoever.

Her "comrades", on the other hand...

*SMASH*

Sam felt, rather than heard, the impact the punching bag made against the wall. Specifically, the wall between the League's gym and her room. Even more specifically, the wall that had suddenly caved in from the tremendous force driving the bag, knocked her bed aside, and sent her tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs, wires, and sheets. For a few seconds, Sam just stared mutely up at the ceiling, her askew headphones suddenly sounding much quieter now that they were blaring music into the whole room, as opposed to just her ears.

Then, extracting herself from the mess, the woman rose to her feet, stalked over to the door, out into the hallway, and down to the gym.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam growled, irritably rubbing the back of her aching head, "what the hell was that, Guy?" She was fairly confident that the tall man was responsible for the destruction of her otherwise peaceful evening. On top of being one of the few Conduits strong enough to actually hurl a punching bag across the room, he was also the only one who happened to be in the gym at the time. You didn't have to be Sherlock to figure that one out. "My room doesn't need a shortcut into here. Shit, it's not like I don't hear enough of your grunting and sweating with a wall between us..."

 

[Belmarc]

Ben strolled around the city, relaxed by the presence of others. It felt nice to escape into the streets, to blend in with everyone else. Sometimes, at least. At the very least it felt nice to not have a gun firing at him, or worse, some supposed peace lover trying to blast him apart. He wasn't flying any colors out here, so no one gave him a second look. Ben was just another human trying to go about his business without being killed as far as they were concerned. Too many people focused on what made Conduits different. They were all still human. Sure he could send a man flying. So what? There were plenty of people considered normal that could kick his ass in chess, or paint circles around him. Everyone had their strengths. He couldn't allow the government or the separatists to split the human race this way.

The outside air suddenly had a bitter taste to it, and whatever closeness he might've felt between these strangers around him was gone. Failing to pull himself back out of his funk, Ben decided his pleasant walk wasn't salvageable and fled back underground towards home. He made it back just in time to hear the crash on his way down to the gym. Ben grinned. Seemed like Guy was down there getting a head start on him. He crossed the threshold just in time to hear the end of Guy getting chewed out. "Well well well, if it isn't the Paper Princess out of her castle.bWhat have we lowly plebs done to deserve such a thing?" Ben took in the room and snorted in laughter. "Fucking hell man, you've outdone yourself this time. I'd say you'd done it on purpose if I didn't know you had a lady back home waiting for you!"

 

[Ruedyn]

Mary sat next to her bed, leaning her head against the mattress as she listened to some speech Steven Seagal was spewing. Environment, he was not a good public speaker. Or actor. Still, his movies offered up some fighting techniques for her to use, so rewatching Deadly Ground was partially worth it. Unless she went up against a conduit. Maybe one day, she would meet the Conduit with the easily broken bones, rather than one with... acid blood. Or one who could turn to steal, or breath fire, or something else crazy as hell. She missed thinking Conduits were overstated in how dangerous they were.

She sighed, Conduits were difficult as hell to take down for her. Could take down a team of humans, at least. She jumped slightly when she heard the very dull sound of something breaking something. Around the gym? She hesitantly closed her laptop, wandering over to see... her colleagues yelling at eachother. Lovely.

"Fucking hell man, you've outdone yourself this time. I'd say you'd done it on purpose if I didn't know you had a lady back home waiting for you!"

"Do superpowers HAVE to come with in-fighting?" She groaned, stepping up to the group, "C'mon, we're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shitck."

 

[Lotus_Gait]

Past the squabbling conduits, deeper into the FCL's living quarters, there is a room that houses a wonder for the senses. This room defies nature by showcasing a plethora of some of the rarest and most beautiful plants known to man. The ceiling is a jumbled mass of rangoon creepers [http://www.rareflora.com/quisqualisindsingle.htm], vines twisting around the light fittings, their flowers emitting a faintly pleasant aroma. The walls are similarly draped with various climbing plants, a tangle of golden hops [http://pics.davesgarden.com/pics/2004/10/06/victorgardener/096084.jpg] adding their sweet scent into the mix. Potted plants and rarely seen orchids are everywhere - the floor, the walls, a desk heavily laden wth books on botany and gardening.

Amongst all this display of life is a bed with a man lying fully clothed directly on top of the covers. His chest rises and falls wth the faint breathing of sleep. With a sudden stretch, the man opened his eyes; the too green eyes of a man seriously ill. But Hemlock wasn't ill, he was decidedly healthy and the proximity of such beauty as of the flowering plants - cultivated by his own hands - just strengthened that feeling of health. Sliding off the bed, Hemlock wiped a coating of sweat from his brow as he inspected a small black orchid [http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DRYlzoelglc/UDay_ASzPJI/AAAAAAAABSk/H-loWu8n0gc/s1600/tumblr_m8jm27fpqd1rb8s7zo1_500.jpg] clinging to the bed post.

With so many tropical plants in his room, the temperature needed to be kept just right. Of course, he was able to keep the plants alive and help them grow with his powers alone, but there was something urgent in his desire for the plants to sustain themselves. As a result, Hemlock had a pretty complex set-up of heat lamps, UV lamps and humidifiers buried within all the greenery. In one corner, there was also a misting machine that sprayed a cool light mist every few hours. Sometimes, when Hemlock forgot, he would find his face suddenly soaked with cold water. Satisfied that the orchid was doing fine, Hemlock grabbed an old book called Flora Atlantica before leaving the brightness and humidity of his room.

In comparison to his own room, the corridor felt like death. The dim, flickering lights and drab walls felt oppressive to Hemlock but the FCL's need for hiding was paramount and staying underground was the best place for that. Things had been surprisingly quiet for a time though, he was willing to admit that.

As Hemlock, approached his four companions in the corridor, he registered Mary's words. "We're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shtick." She was pretty, if a little pale, and the ten years she lacked on Hemlock showed some of her naiveté.

"To them, we're already the villains." Hemlock said sadly, squeezing past the three as he headed to the games room. "The Beast saw to that..." Without a second glance, he opened the door to the games room and entered.

Hemlock acknowledged Sheena and Henry with a quiet greeting as he made his way to the fridge. Pointing to Andrew and the beer in his hand, he put on a tone of mock annoyance. "Oh, so you're starting without me you bastard?" He pulled a beer from the fridge and grimaced at the temperature. "Make yourself useful," he said, tossing the can to Andrew before continuing. For a moment, Hemlock stood still, seemingly lost in thought. Rolling his shoulders as if trying to wrangle out am uncomfortable knot, he jerked his head towards the corridor he had just come from. "I think the quiet is making the others go crazy , y'know?"

 

[JdaS]

Nation HQ

Apparently all Marrow had to do was yell, because in no time, the common room was full of people. Reggie Pier, the teenage part-timer was first on the scene, greeting his fellow Conduits and taking a seat.

"Evenin', fellas, anything new? Bad guys need whooping? Days needing to be saved?"

"Hey there, lad! School's in again, eh? Fancy a cup o' joe?" Said Duggins, waving a pot of java over his head as he tried not to laugh at Reggie's usual, humorous attire.

Marrow was just about to answer the boy, when Johan entered the room, making it brighter than it already was. The Austrian Conduit took a seat next to Johnson, courteously greeting everyone in the room.

"It seems pretty calm outside, then again, who knows, something always happens somewhere, right? It's been a beautiful day, though. The sun's been shining, which is always good. How are you guys doing?"

"...Yeah, just like Sun said, kid. Been real quiet since that gang of looters Oxide and Tempo went to take care of." Marrow said, curtly nodding to acknowledge Johan's greeting.

Duggins, talkative as always was more eager to respond to his glowing colleague.

"Oh, you know. Just passing the time. What've you been up to? Charging them batteries again? Coffee, by th-?"

Duggins' question was interrupted by Anna's arrival. It sure was getting crowded in there.

"Damn Marrow could you yell any louder? I heard you through my music."

Anna ignored Marrow's unamused look as she entered the room. Greeting the occupants and taking a seat.

"Hey Zerox, Shortcut, Sun. You gotta pick up a hobby dude. I got my music, Xerox has his work outs, Johan has his tanning, hell we all got somethin."

"That's what I said! Want some coffee Anna!"

"Enough with the damn coffee, fool! You gonna ask that every time someone comes in!? Look, y'all might like to have all this free time on your hands but I don't, okay. Just makes me wonder what the hell all the scum in this city is up to."

"Will everyone quiet down for a minute, I need to think!"

Arthur suddenly burst into the room, very tense, which everyone was already used to, to be honest.

"Relax, Mentalist. Have some c..." Duggins stopped, Johnson looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. "...Uuuhh, so uh, yeah. Chill."

Arthur sighed as he paced back and forth around the room.

"God, what a miserable day. Anything new from the FCL?"

Again, Marrow's intention to answer was cut shot by yet another arrival. This time Sky, aka Zephyr

"Hey everyone, how y'all doing today? Part-timer, still incognito I see."

Marrow proceeded to answer Arthur's query. "Nothing since last week, they've been making moves around Mexicantown lately. I think they might be having some trouble with a drug cartel there."

"Nothin' today. Seems we're working for a new record." Added Sky.

"Yeah. Hasn't been this quiet since... what was it? That Jenkins deal?" Said Duggins, before guzzling down some of his coffee.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

FCL HQ

*SMASH*

The games room trembled slightly as the sound of a wall being pounded with extreme force echoed through the HQ.

"Hey, hey, hey, what the hell was that, Guy? My room doesn't need a shortcut into here. Shit, it's not like I don't hear enough of your grunting and sweating with a wall between us..."

"Well well well, if it isn't the Paper Princess out of her castle. What have we lowly plebs done to deserve such a thing? ...Fucking hell man, you've outdone yourself this time. I'd say you'd done it on purpose if I didn't know you had a lady back home waiting for you!"

"Do superpowers HAVE to come with in-fighting? C'mon, we're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shitck."

All activity in the room ceased as all 3 occupants listened to the whole exchange. As it finished, Kuo sighed in frustration and took another sip from his beer.

"Fucking chuckle-heads... "Unity"... Pshh."

Just then, Hemlock made his way inside. Greeting the other two Conduits before addressing his drinking partner.

"Oh, so you're starting without me you bastard? Make yourself useful,"

"Well I wasn't going to wait on your synthesizing ass all night, was I?" Kuo said, as he cooled Hemlock's brew to just the right temperature before returning it to him.

"What the hell is going on out there, anyway?"

"I think the quiet is making the others go crazy , y'know?"

At this point, Archer put down his pool cue and started making his way to the corridor.

"Gonna check it out. Good game Sheena." He said as Icarus pocketed the money and left the room as well.

"Bah. Another bleeding heart, that one." Kuo said, taking a healthy gulp before continuing. "Might not be quiet for much longer though. Orchid has been working with a small team all night to find those Cartel assholes' base of operations. My guess is the boss'll have us deal with them tonight. Can't wait to fry some fucking dealers." The expression on Farenheit's face turned a tad more violent as he finished his sentence, slightly crumpling his can of beer in his fist.

"What's that book you've got there, anyway?"
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What's going on in here, guys?" asked Halflife, approaching the two young women and the resident FCL bruisers.

"We can hear your bickering all the way in the game room. Quiet day getting to you?"

 

[Anayna]

The sound of Sam's low voice jerked Guy's head up from looking at his rapidly shriveling arm. His expression was that of a deer meeting the eponymous headlights, and it looked a tad ridiculous on a man of his stature.

"Hey, hey, hey, what the hell was that, Guy? My room doesn't need a shortcut into here."

"Shortcut? What do you mean 'shortcut'...?"

It was only then that he noticed how the flying punching bag had torn down a portion of the wall, and that said divide apparently led right into Sam's quarters. Guy heard the faint sound of some pop song emanating from the room.

"Oh. Oh! Oh no. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... Damn it."

Guy didn't like conflict in any of its permutations, least of all being the source of it. The members of the FCL had their reputations and he tried to avoid any trouble with his supposed allies. Sam though? She seemed to let others go about their business and expected the same curtsey in return. Guy could respect that and didn't want any animosity between them.

"Shit, it's not like I don't hear enough of your grunting and sweating with a wall between us..."

"I... Yes, absolutely. I really am sorry about this. I'll see to it that your, um, wall is fixed. Again, sorry. I... had a moment."

Oh man. Who do I talk to about this? Does the faction have a sanctioned bricklayer? Is masonry a super power? [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ7DvYZRbdw] No, that would be silly....

"Well well well, if it isn't the Paper Princess out of her castle. What have we lowly plebs done to deserve such a thing?"

Guy couldn't help but crack a smile when Ben stepped into the gym. In this house of murderers, murderous idealists and idealistic murderers Ben was a ray of sunshine. Despite everything surrounding him the man managed to seem almost normal. He reminded him vaguely of some of the guys back at the gym. This was somehow incredibly reassuring to Guy.

"Fucking hell man, you've outdone yourself this time. I'd say you'd done it on purpose if I didn't know you had a lady back home waiting for you!"

"Heh. No, no. Just an accident. And one that I'll set right, that's a promise. Where have you been at all day? I haven't seen..."

"Do superpowers HAVE to come with in-fighting? C'mon, we're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shitck."

Guy didn't even have time to regret how he'd let it slip that he had a fiance before yet another face joined the fray: Mary came in with complaints about the noise. She was far from the worst the faction had to offer in Guy's mind, but she still managed to creep him out. Something about her eyes.

 

[Belmarc]

"Do superpowers HAVE to come with in-fighting? C'mon, we're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shitck."

"Calm down, it's just a bit of friendly teasing. Though I imagine in-fighting to be a particularly common weakness associated with superpowers, yes."

Mary had the best intentions, Ben was sure, but she always got caught up in what he assumed to be an inferiority complex. Her powers weren't exactly the flashiest or the strongest, but he'd seen the girl take down a squad of fully armed men with moves ripped straight from Bruce Lee. Literally. At the very least, she knew all the best movies and videos on the net, and spending a few hours with her wasn't going to be boring.

"Heh. No, no. Just an accident. And one that I'll set right, that's a promise. Where have you been at all day? I haven't seen..."

"Just out on a walk. I came back hoping to get some sparring in with you but it looks like I'd better pass. Don't want to offend you like that poor wall did," Ben said with breathy laughter catching a few words.

Guy was, well, pretty much what he expected from someone named Guy. A good fellow, with simple hopes and dreams that no one could fault. Of course, that might lead someone to underestimate his capacity for violence, which wasn't a mistake many had the chance to make twice. It was a good thing he was so well-meaning, and on the same side. Going toe to toe with him in a real fight didn't seem like it would be much fun.

"What's going on in here, guys?

We can hear your bickering all the way in the game room. Quiet day getting to you?"

Ben waved away Henry's suspicions. "Nothing we lowly grunts can't handle. Flying punching bags out to kidnap bratty princesses. The usual." He clapped Guy on the back and crossed the room, working at detaching the aforementioned inanimate criminal from what was left of the wall. He flashed Sam a mischievous smile as he tugged it free, rolling it across the gym floor. "No harm, no foul, right? Guy and I will have this fixed before you know it, and we'll make sure no nefarious bags plot another attack."

 

[Lotus_Gait]

"Well I wasn't going to wait on your synthesizing ass all night, was I?"

Hemlock chuckled quietly. "Synthesising arse, you say?" He pushed his backside out and wiggled it experimentally. "I can see it now. My beautiful arse playing synth for The Human League [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EHpozHn-QA]. Get to number one in no time!" As Henry left to check on the others, Hemlock directed his wiggling at Sheena. "What do you think Sheena? Don't. You. Want. Me. Baby. Don't you want me, ooooh-oooh!" Never one to joke around, the stern-faced woman left the room, leaving Hemlock bent embarrasingly bent over.

"Might not be quiet for much longer though. Orchid has been working with a small team all night to find those Cartel assholes' base of operations. My guess is the boss'll have us deal with them tonight. Can't wait to fry some fucking dealers." Hemlock straightened and made his face serious at Andrew's words. The DUP called him Farenheit for a reason. A reason Hemlock was deeply cautious of. Leaning casually against the pool table, he laid down his book and opened the ice cold beer.

"As long as you keep the fryer away from me, mate, I'm happy." He took a sip of the beer, grimacing at the taste. "We gotta get some better drinks in 'ere, man." Setting aside the beer, Hemlock grabbed the book and idly leafed through a few of the pages. "I ain't got much gripe with dealers. Petty bullshit if you ask me. But if that's where we're needed for now then I'm with ya." Hemlock wanted - needed to show his loyalty to the FCL. If he helped them enough with their cause, then they'd be more amenable to his own grand ideas.

"What's that book you've got there, anyway?"

At Andrew's words, Hemlock snapped the book shut and waved it vaguely in his friend's direction. "Oooooh it's a very influential book on botany published in the 18th century by a man named René Louiche Desfontaines. I could bore you with the details and what I know of the man, but I suspect you'd rather drink," he tossed the book onto the sofa, picking up a pool cue, "and play pool?"

 

[Arrogancy]

"Nothin' today. Seems we're working for a new record." Skyler said.

That didn't sit well with him. Arthur stopped his furious pacing for a moment, then leaned against a wall. "I need to write them a letter." He said, musing aloud. He had been talking about getting in touch with the FCL for weeks, always mumbling about writing a letter, or finding out some number to contact them. The efforts rarely came to anything though, no one knew where the FCL set up shop, there were no numbers he knew of to contact anyone, and, outside of the odd guerrilla raid against the DUP, no one ever even saw the FCL leadership.

Arthur had tried most everything he could think of, even tailing a few DUP patrols, hoping for an FCL ambush, to try to get in touch with them. Nothing worked.

He began nervously tapping his pockets before taking out his pack of cigarettes and a cheap, disposable lighter. Fumbling with it for a minute, he kept glaring at the thing as it stubbornly refused to spark. Frustrated, he gave up and let go of the thing, telekinetically holding it in midair and manipulating it with his mind before it finally sparked.

Taking a long drag, Arthur tried to relax. And why not? Everyone else seemed to, they loved it. For once, the city wasn't collapsing, or exploding. The FCL wasn't killing anyone, the DUP had been quiet. He could probably go back to sleep right then and left everyone else to handle things. Arthur scoffed at that idea.

There was still too much work to do! He'd been on the phone with government agencies over the last few weeks, every agency he could think of with any authority or that might present their case to the nation. He called the CIA, Homeland Security, the White House at least a dozen times, and more than a quarter of the Congress. It seemed to him he was the only one trying to get this peace settlement off the ground, fat lot of good was coming from that though. No one would give him a straight answer, and that was when things were going well. Some of them got scared and hung up when he said who he was calling on behalf of, or began making big threats in response to comments he hadn't made or hinted at in the slightest.

Even the FBI was stonewalling him and he'd worked there for the better part of a decade!

That reminded him, "I finally got in touch with the UN today." He began, in general, "Apparently we're no longer people." At this he gave a wry smirk. It'd be almost funny at any other time. "They won't file against the US for Human Rights violations because, hang on, let me find this quote," He went back into his office for a moment before taking out a sheet of paper, "'The exact difference between Conduits and Humans aren't fully understood or appreciated at the present moment, and we must revisit the law to determine whether our understanding of what a Human is, is compatible with our understanding of what a Conduit is, and allows Conduits to be covered in our protection of Human Rights.'"

Arthur slowly tore up the paper. "Lousy goddamn cockroaches." He muttered.

 

[Pappytech]

"Well well well, if it isn't the Paper Princess out of her castle. What have we lowly plebs done to deserve such a thing?"

Oh God dammit. It was Ben again. Barely repressing her urge to rip the guy a new one, Sam kept her focus locked solely on the apologetic looking Guy. After all, if she was lucky enough, maybe just ignoring Ben would be enough to make the ass go away...

"I... Yes, absolutely," Guy stammered in reply. "I really am sorry about this. I'll see to it that your, um, wall is fixed. Again, sorry. I... had a moment."

Sam kept up her glare for another couple seconds, before letting loose a defeated sigh and slumping forward. "Eh, it's not that big a deal, I guess..." she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair in an attempt to bring some semblance of order to the shaggy mess. Staying mad at Guy for an accident would take way too much effort, anyway. "Just try not to do it again, alright?" she continued, giving a disinterested shrug. "I'm sure someone will be able to-"

"Do superpowers HAVE to come with in-fighting?"

Before she could finish her thought, however, Sam found herself cut off by the conversation's latest participant. "Mary," she said in way of greeting, managing to keep most of the growl out of her voice.

"C'mon, we're gonna look like villains if we don't start getting along already! Unity is our whole shitck."

"Is it?" Sam asked disinterestedly, barely registering as Hemlock walked past, muttering something or another about villains. Honestly, she was starting to regret leaving her room at this point. Just ragging on Guy about stuff was easy enough, but being surrounded by the most talkative members of the League were quickly wearing down the woman's nerves.

"We can hear your bickering all the way in the game room. Quiet day getting to you?"

"More like it's getting away from me." Sam tried to find a way to slip out of the gym and back to the (recently compromised) isolation of her room, but Archer had seemingly unintentionally hemmed her in when he joined the group. It didn't look like there was a small enough space for her to squeeze through, surrounded as she was by the other Conduits.

 

[DarkRawen]

"Oh, you know. Just passing the time. What've you been up to? Charging them batteries again? Coffee, by th-?"

Before Duggins managed to finish what he was about to say, someone else, Anna, arrived, greeting them.

"Hey Zerox, Shortcut, Sun. You gotta pick up a hobby dude. I got my music, Xerox has his work outs, Johan has his tanning, hell we all got somethin. Speaking of which you seem to be in a good mood. Finally get some decent rays in between the smog clouds?"

"Yeah," he replied to both of them, beaming with self-confidence because they had asked. "Not a single cloud in the sky today, it's so refreshing and vitalizing! I'll say no thanks to the coffee, though, I'm fine like this." Johan wanted to say something more, but Arthur arrived, rather annoyed.

"Will everyone quiet down for a minute, I need to think!"

Johan couldn't help but notice that Arthur nodded to the other people there, but not him. Had he annoyed him too much by being there?

Should I make it up to him? It'd be nicer if everyone got along.

He at least wanted to get along with everyone. Johan smiled, apologetically, and spoke, sounding less eager and more considerate. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"Hey everyone, how y'all doing today?"

Sky said, and Johan greeted her with a friendly gesture and a nod, but he didn't say anything more, just made some room for her in case she wanted to sit down in the couch. It seemed some people talking had ended up attracting several others. They were more of a crowd now, yet there wasn't a lot of talking going on, apart from people repeating what others had already said. Johan would have spoken up, but he was afraid he might offend Arthur even more. Besides, part of him was happy just being among a group of people who accepted him, and who wouldn't abandon him that easily.

It's nice like this too.

"I finally got in touch with the UN today. Apparently we're no longer people."

No longer humans?

Had Johan heard correctly? No, he couldn't have... right? However, Arthur kept talking, clearly not liking this very much.

"They won't file against the US for Human Rights violations because, hang on, let me find this quote; The exact difference between Conduits and Humans aren't fully understood or appreciated at the present moment, and we must revisit the law to determine whether our understanding of what a Human is, is compatible with our understanding of what a Conduit is, and allows Conduits to be covered in our protection of Human Rights.'"

"Did they really say so?" Johan asked. While he certainly was aware of that they weren't exactly liked by most people, he'd figured they were "only" terrorists in people's eyes. His smile faded a bit, but he kept his spirits high---- well, in looks, anyways. "That's regrettable," he commented. However, he then added; "They're just scared, I suppose. Not that hard to understand, considering what the FCL does, but still. We'll just have to prove that we're very human, and not hostile, right?" he encouraged, calmly and comforting.

"They'll understand it eventually."

Johan wasn't completely sure that was possible anymore. They weren't just feared, many of the normal people hated them, and wanted them gone. A hassle, a hostile force threatening their lives and their societies. Nothing about him showed that he felt doubts like this, though, not outwardly. Johan had to keep an air of optimism and eagerness about him, so that he could encourage people who might feel less sure with his presence. Part of him felt like it was not only what they expected him to do, but what he had a right to do, showing off this side of himself so that others might bathe in his confidence.