Surge 2 [Begun!]
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An excellent plan.fanklok said:
Game starts tonight, when I can get round to writing the opening...
Exictednuke said:Name: Kenji Daichi
Appearance: Kenji looks similar to the stereotypical Japanese punk rocker, which is reflected in his clothing and his own trends. He is no taller then 5'7 and has a slim build. His hair is black and jelled up, so much jell that it appears to be rock solid. Covering a large deal of his arms and the top half of his chest, he has a wide variety of tattoos, ranging from simple tribal designs to a dragon that covers his back. What he wears is the definition of trashy, a bright red jacket worn over a dirty gray shirt. His blue jeans have scratches around the knees and have been faded, but then again that is pretty common now a days. To top it all of he wears a pair of tinted aviators, a bright orange tint to be exact.
Powers: Kenji has the ability to summon a veil of blue energy and manipulate to his will. Whether it be to make a sword, a shield or a blast of energy, it can be done, only limited by his own imagination. Being hit by the energy is an experience that one will never forget, as it seems to burn and freeze at the same time. The energy of veil it just as plentiful as the energy exhibited in it's hyperactive user, never seeming to run out of power at any given moment.
That's right, Travis Touchdown.
The energy has given him a few miscellaneous abilities as well, having no connection to blue power but still proving to be useful, and sometimes hilarious. He can in fact teleport over short distances, but rarely when he wants to. If he is drinking or fooling around he can teleport at random, resulting in some very awkward cases involving the cops. Other that he exhibits strength, agility, endurance, and speed higher then what is to be expected from someone his size, though by no means super.
Bio: The story of Kenji is rather bland, if not humorous one, until he got his powers at seventeen. He was raised in Tokyo by his mom and dad, being born into a middle class family living the big city life. Needless to say he was kind of an ass for the most of his life, the kind of guy who would shout at the clerk at the fast food joint for getting his order wrong. His habits only got worse when he entered high school, when he grew to think that he was better then everyone else. He would drink and party, living what he called the "Good life" up until he was seventeen...
While at friends house he said something incredibly stupid, this being an insult about a gang leader who happened to be at the party. After the party he was returning home when the gang leader and his goons backed him into an alley, intent on killing the stupid Kenji. In an act of desperation he picked up a wooden stick and threw himself into the group, when the energy began to spark from his body. He felt a surge of power, and soon the the attacker were no more. After the event the local police were called to the scene, only to find Kenji sitting down against a pile of charred skeletons. He told the cops to "Fuck off", they didn't hesitate.
Ever since then Kenji has decided to explore the world, party and get into sweet fights, continuing to live the "Good Life". His attitude of being a complete asshat hasn't changed much, but he has grown to be a smooth talker when there are ladies around.
Yorgmiester said:
terribleyetfun said:name: Trevor yosef Filmore
appearance:"7,7" thin with a pale complexion his blue eyes contrast with his long brown curly hair which forms a frame around his long face can usually be found wearing a black leather glove on his left hand and a suit with a white shirt, red tie and black jacket with coat tails accompanied by a pair of specially tailored black suit pants for his act as the amazing 'giant man' at the carnival.
powers: can activate and manipulate any electrical object by touching it, almost as if he`s ,communicating with it but in reality is just sending small electrical impulses that being the most he can generate, or has ever tried to.
bio:raised in your average low cost-housing district Trevor was always kicked around and made fun to a horrible extent by other kids for his height, his parents were always ashamed of him for this detaching themselves from him, even making Trevor think for a few years that they did`nt love him and one day at the age of 15 his insecurities finally got the better of him and he had ran off to join the carnival freak show as the amazing 'giant man'. He has been living a peaceful life for 10 years up until surge, one day his powers suddenly activated as he was struggling with an electric can opener all it took was one thought of goddammit work you piece of crap and the machine shot forward from the can creating a gash along the front of his left hand which to this day he has covered up with a leather glove and to this day has tried to forget about his powers but little reminders always had a habit of...popping up to remind him.
personality: a some-what timid person but after being around people like him for ten years has built up his confidence enough that he won`t back down from a fight so easily.
quotemostly says this to scare off little kids)you know what I did to the last person who did that....I`m still finding bits of them around my house.
Grimheart said:
Aqualung said:
revolverwolf said:
Xero Scythe said:
fanklok said:
Unlucky, I guess.
Right here. [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/362.171619-Surge-2-Auditions-are-open?page=2#4748039]ThreeWords said:
Ok, so I had this idea for at least some kind of storyline, but since revolver changed her character, I?ve revamped it completely and gone for a new route. Since this new story arc has been rather hastily constructed, please be aware for potholes in the road of narrative
That said, have an intro!
That said, have an intro!
Go to Urbis
The command was all that mattered
Go to urbis, and search the city for non humans, for it has been corrupted with imitation humans who seek to undo out very society, causing harm to every human on the planet.
The command had echoed in 4W's skull as she trudged through the wastes.
Go there, seek them out, and kill them. Every last one.
The command rang in her head as she entered the outskirts of the city of Urbis.
---
For everyone else, life still seemed normal. Since last year's ruckus up north, people had come to terms with the idea of superhumans, sort of, and those that doubted were foiled by the few supers who, for short times, came out and used their powers for vigilante justice. No one knew what happened to them, but they were disappearing as fast as they sprung up.
You may write your intro as a 'day in the life' style thing. Everything going normal, then things jump about as your power kicks up. Make it something obvious, something likely to draw some attention
You know what I like, so you'll know what I want. Put simply, give a reason for your being in Urbis (the city), a little insight into your head, and make a mess to get you noticed. Think you can manage that?
Reggie strode through the ghetto like he owned the place. Maybe cause he did to some extent. The appartment towers reached up to the sky, filled with gangs, money and drugs. The streets had been rough to Reggie, they had taken much from him. Now it seemed they were giving something back.
"Hey Reg!"
"Reggie my man!"
"Reg, what up?"
Came the voices from a group he passed.
"Sup" He gave a small wave and walked inside one of the appartment blocks. He got the elevator up, twenty floors of the trashy tower flew past him. In a few seconds. Reg liked speeding up the elevators. The doors opened, no ping or similar sound, that had broken long ago. He stepped out in the corridor. The walls coated in graffiti, the floor paved with rubbish.
He strolled down the corridor till he came to room 44. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Hey Reggie, where you been?" Came a voice fromt he other end of the dim-lit room. The sun outside hit the rotting curtains but didn't get that much further. It managed to iluminate the whisps of smoke floating out of the shadow where the man sat.
"Why? Am I late?" Reggie asked, ungracefully dropping a backpack onto a crude coffee table between him and the man.
The man laughed.
"No no, you never are though. Your almost too good. What you manage to get?" He sat forward a little. Intently staring at the backpack.
"Two kilos, maybe a little more." Said Reggie, casually. Sat in a laid back manner on the sofa opposite the man.
"Excellent." The man took a draw from whatever it was that he was smoking. His face lit up for a second. He was scarred and looking much older that he truly was.
"Here." The man chucked Reggie a wod of cash. Reggie caught it. As he did, there was a sound of smashed glass, a few floors down maybe. A load of shotuing soon followed.
"What was that?" Said the man, his voice concerned.
"I think we better get out of..." Before he could say the next word the door burst open. Before the door had hit the floor, Reggie jumped out the window on the balcony.
He scanned the building surrounding him. He closed his eyes.
Need power, need to escape
He ran along the balcony and jumped.
The next building was a good 50 metres away but slightly below him luckily, he landed on the roof in a combat roll. He then ran and jumped to then next. And another. Each an impressive distance away from each other. He did this a few times. He then stopped to catch his breath. No one had followed him. He sat there for a second and checked his payment.
Damn, two thousand? I got ripped-the-fuck-off
He sighed and then jumped down to the alleyway below, turned the corner, threw up his hood and disappeared into the crowd of one of the bustling streets of Urbis.
"Hey Reg!"
"Reggie my man!"
"Reg, what up?"
Came the voices from a group he passed.
"Sup" He gave a small wave and walked inside one of the appartment blocks. He got the elevator up, twenty floors of the trashy tower flew past him. In a few seconds. Reg liked speeding up the elevators. The doors opened, no ping or similar sound, that had broken long ago. He stepped out in the corridor. The walls coated in graffiti, the floor paved with rubbish.
He strolled down the corridor till he came to room 44. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Hey Reggie, where you been?" Came a voice fromt he other end of the dim-lit room. The sun outside hit the rotting curtains but didn't get that much further. It managed to iluminate the whisps of smoke floating out of the shadow where the man sat.
"Why? Am I late?" Reggie asked, ungracefully dropping a backpack onto a crude coffee table between him and the man.
The man laughed.
"No no, you never are though. Your almost too good. What you manage to get?" He sat forward a little. Intently staring at the backpack.
"Two kilos, maybe a little more." Said Reggie, casually. Sat in a laid back manner on the sofa opposite the man.
"Excellent." The man took a draw from whatever it was that he was smoking. His face lit up for a second. He was scarred and looking much older that he truly was.
"Here." The man chucked Reggie a wod of cash. Reggie caught it. As he did, there was a sound of smashed glass, a few floors down maybe. A load of shotuing soon followed.
"What was that?" Said the man, his voice concerned.
"I think we better get out of..." Before he could say the next word the door burst open. Before the door had hit the floor, Reggie jumped out the window on the balcony.
He scanned the building surrounding him. He closed his eyes.
Need power, need to escape
He ran along the balcony and jumped.
The next building was a good 50 metres away but slightly below him luckily, he landed on the roof in a combat roll. He then ran and jumped to then next. And another. Each an impressive distance away from each other. He did this a few times. He then stopped to catch his breath. No one had followed him. He sat there for a second and checked his payment.
Damn, two thousand? I got ripped-the-fuck-off
He sighed and then jumped down to the alleyway below, turned the corner, threw up his hood and disappeared into the crowd of one of the bustling streets of Urbis.
How was that for my opening post?
Damien was wandering the streets once more, trying to clear the thoughts from his head. "How? How did it happen? What happened to Ryan? Was it my fault? And if it was, how could I have changed the outcome?" No matter how many times Damien played that final fight over in his head, it was useless. He had little say in the matter, and he could not have changed it. Damien sighed. He had come to Urbis since this was one of the best places for supers. He turned into an alley. Four men with crowbars appeared behind him. One hit Damien on his shoulder. The crowbar bounced off Damien's dense shoulder, but it still stung. "What the hell do you want?" The leader smiled as he summoned a fireball. "Hey there buddy. I recognize you. You're Damien, that fucker that destroyed our entire gang. We want you, dead." The other three snickered on cue. Damien's lips curled into a snarl. "You..." Then his eyes lit with recongition, and turned very, very dark. "I recognize you. You were the one who killed her. You were the one who killed Rose!"
The four supers charged Damien. The first one had super speed. Damien laughed as he just slammed the man to the ground. "Fat lot of good your speed does you now." Damien formed his right hand into a claw and slammed it down. The first guy turned into a pancake. Both of the next two supers had supernatural strength. Damien encased his body within unnaturally strong, warped gravity, and caught their punches. They screamed in pain as their fists turned to dust. Damien then grabbed their heads and squeezed, crushing them. He pointed to the last man, the one who killed the only person he ever loved. He looked like Fate itself. "Your turn." The man shrieked and threw a fireball at Damien. Damien was so angry, the fireball just deflected off his barrier and crashed into the wall. Damien grabbed the man and threw him to the ground. "a heart for a heart" Damien said, coldly. Damien stomped on the man's chest, crushing his heart. The man would die, but it would be agonizingly long for him. Damien turned around, sensing something. "Shit" He exclaimed. He saw a member of the Company, and the member saw him! Damien dashed away from the man, far faster than any normal person could move.
The four supers charged Damien. The first one had super speed. Damien laughed as he just slammed the man to the ground. "Fat lot of good your speed does you now." Damien formed his right hand into a claw and slammed it down. The first guy turned into a pancake. Both of the next two supers had supernatural strength. Damien encased his body within unnaturally strong, warped gravity, and caught their punches. They screamed in pain as their fists turned to dust. Damien then grabbed their heads and squeezed, crushing them. He pointed to the last man, the one who killed the only person he ever loved. He looked like Fate itself. "Your turn." The man shrieked and threw a fireball at Damien. Damien was so angry, the fireball just deflected off his barrier and crashed into the wall. Damien grabbed the man and threw him to the ground. "a heart for a heart" Damien said, coldly. Damien stomped on the man's chest, crushing his heart. The man would die, but it would be agonizingly long for him. Damien turned around, sensing something. "Shit" He exclaimed. He saw a member of the Company, and the member saw him! Damien dashed away from the man, far faster than any normal person could move.
All hail the Wall O' Text!
The outskirts of any city were fairly boring, but none more so than Urbis. Everything had a mundane air about it, a direct juxtaposition to the wealth of power that surged through the city's lifeblood. It was a bit too quiet for 4W to be entirely sure of everything around her, in fact.
Her eyes moved across the landscape, scanning each detail as it entered her vision, recording every disturbance among the outskirts of Urbis. Seeing no significant disturbances her left pupil blinked green, the tell-tale sign of her onboard connection to Carter's database being used.
She shook her head, pushing the function aside to run quietly with the rest of the background tasks that made up her mind, and returned to seeking out the city's supers. All she could see of the task was a green "36%" in the very topmost right of her periphery.
Outcry walked, an artificial feeling of gladness was making it's way through her sensors and parts, all of them pleased to be close to the start of their task. She could already visualise the smile on Carter's face when she presented the task done, and that was the smile she was performing now, she was so eager to please.
But first she had to overcome the annoying part of her task. She was designed to be unable to harm humans yet tasked to destroy every super she could find. So until a super showed themselves to her, or made a suitably big name for themselves, she had to play the waiting game.
It occurred to her that it would be easier, faster and so much more efficient to destroy the entire city, wiping every trace of its existence from reality in one fell swoop, but surely someone would question it sooner or later. And it went against the laws. Oh, how she despised those laws, limiting her potential so much.
Outcry, Carter's voice was heard, emitting directly into Outcry's mind, We have word of a super from a reliable source. Damien Lier, a gravikinetic, is here in Urbis. A picture of a young blond man appeared, whom Outcry assumed was Damien. Your plating should be more than a match for his power so we have prioritised him as your first target. A tracking beacon has managed to locate him so the map will be uploading with his location now. Steal his power then eliminate him.
The green number at the top blinked "100%" before a translucent map with two icons appeared in her vision. There was one, a green blinking icon, that showed her location. And the other, a red arrow, was showing Damien's.
Her smirk widened to something unhuman. She began to rise from the ground, the small flight boosters on the soles of her feet propelling her upwards before she took off in a burst of speed, screeching across the Urbis skyline. Perhaps it was too obvious to fly. She would be seen from a mile away. But she wanted to be seen. She wanted him to be afraid. His death was coming to find him.
Her eyes moved across the landscape, scanning each detail as it entered her vision, recording every disturbance among the outskirts of Urbis. Seeing no significant disturbances her left pupil blinked green, the tell-tale sign of her onboard connection to Carter's database being used.
Code:
//Databaseinquiry: Urbis(city)
//Upload: MapOutcry walked, an artificial feeling of gladness was making it's way through her sensors and parts, all of them pleased to be close to the start of their task. She could already visualise the smile on Carter's face when she presented the task done, and that was the smile she was performing now, she was so eager to please.
But first she had to overcome the annoying part of her task. She was designed to be unable to harm humans yet tasked to destroy every super she could find. So until a super showed themselves to her, or made a suitably big name for themselves, she had to play the waiting game.
It occurred to her that it would be easier, faster and so much more efficient to destroy the entire city, wiping every trace of its existence from reality in one fell swoop, but surely someone would question it sooner or later. And it went against the laws. Oh, how she despised those laws, limiting her potential so much.
Outcry, Carter's voice was heard, emitting directly into Outcry's mind, We have word of a super from a reliable source. Damien Lier, a gravikinetic, is here in Urbis. A picture of a young blond man appeared, whom Outcry assumed was Damien. Your plating should be more than a match for his power so we have prioritised him as your first target. A tracking beacon has managed to locate him so the map will be uploading with his location now. Steal his power then eliminate him.
The green number at the top blinked "100%" before a translucent map with two icons appeared in her vision. There was one, a green blinking icon, that showed her location. And the other, a red arrow, was showing Damien's.
Her smirk widened to something unhuman. She began to rise from the ground, the small flight boosters on the soles of her feet propelling her upwards before she took off in a burst of speed, screeching across the Urbis skyline. Perhaps it was too obvious to fly. She would be seen from a mile away. But she wanted to be seen. She wanted him to be afraid. His death was coming to find him.
Threewords... Did you just refer to me as a she? I thought I hid it so well! You should fix that. Yeh.
We're jumping right into the deep end, throwing caution to the wind with Outcry going straight after one of the guys from the last one. By the way, Xero, you kind of singled yourself out as a target there. Expect Outcry to attempt to rip Damien into two thousand three hundred and sixty seven point five pieces with her bare hands. =P
We're jumping right into the deep end, throwing caution to the wind with Outcry going straight after one of the guys from the last one. By the way, Xero, you kind of singled yourself out as a target there. Expect Outcry to attempt to rip Damien into two thousand three hundred and sixty seven point five pieces with her bare hands. =P
He had never considered himself a man of faith, but as a man with nothing else to live for, Nathan Andrews was willing to try anything.
So as he sat there, in the front row of St. Mary's Church and listen to the preacher read his sermon, Nathan hoped that this place of worship would fill his void, give him meaning. The preacher looked over the crowd slowly, smiling at all his 'children' and Nathan smiled back. He doubted he stood out in the crowd of people. He wore black Sunday shoes, black dress pants and a nice white shirt that wasn't too formal. His black aviator sunglasses where in his grey trench coat pocket that lay wrapped neatly up beside him, his broken watch and white gold wedding ring the only jewellery on him.
Physically, he looked like any other well built male member of the church, with his broad shoulders and trim chest. His eyes a deep brown that matched his short brown hair, helped make him look like the average guy but the scar on his chin may suggest an accident or surgery of some kind.
He applauded silently along with the rest of the congregation at the Pastor finished talking, and started to make some final announcements, before a final "God Bless You" signalled the end of the service, and with that the wave of people rushing to get out of church and on with their outside lives began. Kids pulling on their parent's legs, men and women alike pulling out cell phones to check missed messages and making important calls.
Nathan had no outside life, so he sat quietly and waited for the Pastor to step down from his podium so he could intercept him. Once it looked like a majority of the people had left, the Pastor did step down and Nathan was there waiting for him, holding out his hand
"Hello there Pastor Martin. My name is Nathan Andrews, I'm new here"
He spoke softly and smoothly, that kind smile still on his face with a handshake that was firm, but not tight
"Welcome Mr, Andrews, it is a pleasure to have you join our family"
Pastor Martin smiled back, more of a tight lipped smile than a truly open one.
"Oh, I'm not sure if I wish to join yet"
Nathan responded with a light chuckle
"I'd like to learn more of the...family I'm going to join before I make an investment. That is, if you have the time?"
Pastor Martin nodded, his smile becoming a bit more relaxed
"Of course Mr Andrews, please this way..."
Nathan followed the priest into a side door at the edge of the podium. Entering it, Nathan discovered that it was a small side office, filled with files, and papers.
Brushing a few of the papers off the desk, Pastor Martin motioned for Nathan to sit down.
"Now my son, what do you want to talk about?"
Nathan leaned forward
"How about the truth?"
The Pastor blinked, obviously confused by the question
"I'm sorry, I do-"
He stopped speaking suddenly sitting much straighter, his mouth in a firm line, and when he spoke it was in a much more direct tone
"What do you want to know?"
Nathan smiled, his Spirit String from his index finger flowing into the Pastor
"Tell me, what are your sins?"
The Pastor began to speak, telling Nathan everything. The way he cheated on his wife, and how he killed her when she found out, and then abandoned his mistress when she became pregnant. His real name was Bob Frank, and he had joined the church to hide from the cops and not to spread the word.
After hearing all this, Nathan got up from his seat, while the Pastor remained seated, staring straight ahead. He took out a .44 Magnum revolver, placing it on the desk.
"You will take this gun and open fire in the lobby, aiming above the heads of the people. You will fire until you have one bullet left, then shoot yourself. You will do all this in five minutes from now. Understand?"
The Pastor nodded.
Putting on his trench coat and sunglasses, Nathan made his way out of the office and into the Church lobby. It was still fairly crowded, with plenty of people awaiting the next service.
As he walked out and towards his car, shoots began to be heard inside the Church,, and people began to spill out of the Church, screaming and calling for help.
Whistling happily to himself, Nathan opened the door to his blue Toyota and drove away. He hadn't found what he was looking for, but he had made the world, a little bit cleaner.
So as he sat there, in the front row of St. Mary's Church and listen to the preacher read his sermon, Nathan hoped that this place of worship would fill his void, give him meaning. The preacher looked over the crowd slowly, smiling at all his 'children' and Nathan smiled back. He doubted he stood out in the crowd of people. He wore black Sunday shoes, black dress pants and a nice white shirt that wasn't too formal. His black aviator sunglasses where in his grey trench coat pocket that lay wrapped neatly up beside him, his broken watch and white gold wedding ring the only jewellery on him.
Physically, he looked like any other well built male member of the church, with his broad shoulders and trim chest. His eyes a deep brown that matched his short brown hair, helped make him look like the average guy but the scar on his chin may suggest an accident or surgery of some kind.
He applauded silently along with the rest of the congregation at the Pastor finished talking, and started to make some final announcements, before a final "God Bless You" signalled the end of the service, and with that the wave of people rushing to get out of church and on with their outside lives began. Kids pulling on their parent's legs, men and women alike pulling out cell phones to check missed messages and making important calls.
Nathan had no outside life, so he sat quietly and waited for the Pastor to step down from his podium so he could intercept him. Once it looked like a majority of the people had left, the Pastor did step down and Nathan was there waiting for him, holding out his hand
"Hello there Pastor Martin. My name is Nathan Andrews, I'm new here"
He spoke softly and smoothly, that kind smile still on his face with a handshake that was firm, but not tight
"Welcome Mr, Andrews, it is a pleasure to have you join our family"
Pastor Martin smiled back, more of a tight lipped smile than a truly open one.
"Oh, I'm not sure if I wish to join yet"
Nathan responded with a light chuckle
"I'd like to learn more of the...family I'm going to join before I make an investment. That is, if you have the time?"
Pastor Martin nodded, his smile becoming a bit more relaxed
"Of course Mr Andrews, please this way..."
Nathan followed the priest into a side door at the edge of the podium. Entering it, Nathan discovered that it was a small side office, filled with files, and papers.
Brushing a few of the papers off the desk, Pastor Martin motioned for Nathan to sit down.
"Now my son, what do you want to talk about?"
Nathan leaned forward
"How about the truth?"
The Pastor blinked, obviously confused by the question
"I'm sorry, I do-"
He stopped speaking suddenly sitting much straighter, his mouth in a firm line, and when he spoke it was in a much more direct tone
"What do you want to know?"
Nathan smiled, his Spirit String from his index finger flowing into the Pastor
"Tell me, what are your sins?"
The Pastor began to speak, telling Nathan everything. The way he cheated on his wife, and how he killed her when she found out, and then abandoned his mistress when she became pregnant. His real name was Bob Frank, and he had joined the church to hide from the cops and not to spread the word.
After hearing all this, Nathan got up from his seat, while the Pastor remained seated, staring straight ahead. He took out a .44 Magnum revolver, placing it on the desk.
"You will take this gun and open fire in the lobby, aiming above the heads of the people. You will fire until you have one bullet left, then shoot yourself. You will do all this in five minutes from now. Understand?"
The Pastor nodded.
Putting on his trench coat and sunglasses, Nathan made his way out of the office and into the Church lobby. It was still fairly crowded, with plenty of people awaiting the next service.
As he walked out and towards his car, shoots began to be heard inside the Church,, and people began to spill out of the Church, screaming and calling for help.
Whistling happily to himself, Nathan opened the door to his blue Toyota and drove away. He hadn't found what he was looking for, but he had made the world, a little bit cleaner.
Sorry for the wall of text. Hope this is good
Just another job. Thats what Kris kept thinking ever since he found himself in this city. It was a chaotic start but he had finally established himself on his old principles. Thief for hire, it was what he did best. The job he took today was an unusual one, but that was one thing he noticed from his clients in this city, all their requests were for strange items. nothing like he would usually have done before. This job was to steal a certain object from a preacher, Kris didn't usually steal from any church but jobs the past few weeks were getting scarce. He didn't ask many questions, not caring why exactly the pastor came into possession of the wanted item, his only job was to get it back to his client.
Kris had it all planned out. he would go to the church and sneak into the pastors office while he was preaching, take what he needed and then leave. But things don't really work out the way you planned them to. The first problem came when Kris found out the the church he needed to go to was not along the path of his usual hidden route. He had to go out of his way to find the place, losing precious minutes. he eventually arrived at the church and snuck in, making his way to the offices. Then things got complicated.
His detour meant that the pastor had enough time to finish the service, what was even worse was that he and another man walked into his office. Kris had just enough time to duck out of sight, he moved closer to the door once the two men were in the office so he could better hear their conversation. Its at that time that things started t get strange again. Kris heard the two men talking, the sound was muffled because of the closed door but he could still make out the words. As he heard the pastor finish talking about what the other man called his "sins" Kris listened to the instructions he was giving the preacher. Kris couldn't believe it. He moved away from the door as the man walked out, Kris decided that the theft could wait. If someone was about to start something on his hunting ground, his territory, then Kris wanted to find out exactly what this stranger was up to.
Kris quietly stalked the man until he left the church. When the stranger got to his car, the sharp popping sound of gunshots rang out from the church. The flood of people soon followed and Kris nearly lost his target. Even though he only had one eye, he still caught a quick glimpse of his target getting into a blue car and driving away. "You're not getting away from me that easy."Kris mumbled. He broke free from the growing crowd of people and took a running jump that took him impossibly high. An easy trick. one of the first he ever learned so long ago. Using the air around him to push him further, nowadays something this easy was just like taking a breath. Kris landed on a rooftop and started to follow the blue Toyota, jumping from building to building.
Kris had it all planned out. he would go to the church and sneak into the pastors office while he was preaching, take what he needed and then leave. But things don't really work out the way you planned them to. The first problem came when Kris found out the the church he needed to go to was not along the path of his usual hidden route. He had to go out of his way to find the place, losing precious minutes. he eventually arrived at the church and snuck in, making his way to the offices. Then things got complicated.
His detour meant that the pastor had enough time to finish the service, what was even worse was that he and another man walked into his office. Kris had just enough time to duck out of sight, he moved closer to the door once the two men were in the office so he could better hear their conversation. Its at that time that things started t get strange again. Kris heard the two men talking, the sound was muffled because of the closed door but he could still make out the words. As he heard the pastor finish talking about what the other man called his "sins" Kris listened to the instructions he was giving the preacher. Kris couldn't believe it. He moved away from the door as the man walked out, Kris decided that the theft could wait. If someone was about to start something on his hunting ground, his territory, then Kris wanted to find out exactly what this stranger was up to.
Kris quietly stalked the man until he left the church. When the stranger got to his car, the sharp popping sound of gunshots rang out from the church. The flood of people soon followed and Kris nearly lost his target. Even though he only had one eye, he still caught a quick glimpse of his target getting into a blue car and driving away. "You're not getting away from me that easy."Kris mumbled. He broke free from the growing crowd of people and took a running jump that took him impossibly high. An easy trick. one of the first he ever learned so long ago. Using the air around him to push him further, nowadays something this easy was just like taking a breath. Kris landed on a rooftop and started to follow the blue Toyota, jumping from building to building.
You do not need to read this unless you're curious about this villain. Just an intro, nothing crucial. But you can still read it. ;p
Ya know when that shark bites, with his teeth, babe
Scarlet billows start to spread
Fancy gloves, though, wears old MacHeath, babe
So there's nevah, nevah a trace of red.
Bobby Darin had always been her favourite. A broad chamber within her home was lined with records, precious despite being lined with the settling dust of disuse. But times change. Now, his silken voice came from the radio of a gleaming black Nissan Altima, the windows blackened to hide its internal secrets. From behind those one-way windows, Gladys Dubois sat reclined in the back seat, her legs crossed daintily and with measurable fragility.
Dubois gazed outward to the dirtied streets, her brow somewhat furrowed at the mess, though she hardly saw it. Her mind was stranded in other places on distant matters. She did not return to the car until the driver spoke.
"They're here, Madame. Are you ready?" He was a young man, perhaps around thirty years of age. His rough face and gleaming bald skull told little about him, though Dubois knew every fact of his life. Married, had one son. Named Clint Gerald Manson. Educated in street racing, various martial arts, and sidearms, his favourite being a solid Glock. His favourite band was Muse, and he despised relying on others. All of this she had gathered from the first brief moment they had shook hands.
Uncrossing her legs and straightening in her seat, Dubois replied stiffly, "Go ahead, Manson."
The Nissan rolled into a back parking lot for an optometrist clinic, where the building shaded them from the eyes of the busy street. A white van was messily stationed nearby, the lone wolf of the lot. Slowly, the car fell to a halt on its right side, and a back door of the van slid open.
A figure stumbled out, his eyes blindfolded by rough fabric and his hands bound behind his back. At his side two heavily built men guided- or, rather, lifted- him into the smaller Nissan, before returning to the van and pulling out of the lot, leaving the lone Nissan.
"Manson." Dubois unbuckled her seatbelt. "Kindly wait outside."
Without a word, the tall bald man slid out of the vehicle, slamming the door and locking it shut with his hand-held remote. Outside he straightened his dark suit and reached for a phone from his pocket; a phone that would not hit markets for another three years.
The blindfolded man blearily lifted his head, seeming drunk or perhaps drugged. Raising a hand, Dubois placed her palm tenderly on his cheek.
Rough childhood. Bullied others. Bullied himself. Bullied his brother. Lost his brother. Lost himself.
Drugs. Sloppy pickpockets, learned from questionables. Learned from woman. Raped. Destroying himself, killing a strong body. Only a teenager.
Disease. Hopeless. Infections, many sexually transmitted. Contemplating suicide. Then, a light. A strength. Calling things to him, like magnets. He is a magnet. He is powerful.
Pickpocketing is easier. Stealing hundreds a day. Then, city explodes in chaos. Time to hide.
Images flashed within her mind until Dubois tugged her hand away, a difficult task as the final imprints of memory faded. With a deep sigh to calm her harshly beating heart, she removed the binds from his hands and the blindfold from his eyes. When he opened them, a young woman appeared sitting in the Nissan opposite him, a friendly smile on her warm, velveteen face. Relief filled her eyes.
"M-Maddy? I... How did you get me out of that place? I, I can't-"
"This isn't the time." She drew an eerie syringe from a dark purse on the floor mat, the needle of which seemed to glow somewhat. "Jeremy, I need you to listen, now. I need you to relax. This'll help."
"Are... Are you fucking kidding, Maddy? Now isn't a great time to be doing drugs. Let's-"
"Jeremy." The tips of her red lips tugged downward. "You trust me, don't you?"
His friend. Of course. He nodded finally, holding out an arm.
As 'Maddy' slid the syringe gently into a vein, a second black van entered the parking lot. While she placed the syringe in a cooler stored under the passenger seat, Manson tugged open the door on the pickpocket's side. And, as Jeremy went into a state of cardiac arrest, Dubois smoothed any fraying strands of hair from her greying bun, the illusion of a young brunette having faded. In less than a minute, the man had been pulled from the Nissan, roughly placed into the van, and the bald driver pulled away from the lot, leaving nothing behind but the wafting smell of car gasoline. And, as Dubois finally reclined once more, the cooler stored now beneath her seat, Manson clicked the CD player and Bobby Darin on once more before pulling into traffic behind a blue Toyota.
Look out ... old Macky is back!
Blue Toyota is yours, my character is behind you. By the way.
Damien looked up as he saw a figure streaking towards him. "Shit!" He exclaimed. He had heard about them. supers that used their powers for vigilantism. He didn't have time. With a gring, he folded his arms across his chest, then threw them out wide. 12 copies of himself, looking the exact same, appeared. Since they even had his powers, each of them was indescernable from the original. Even supers who relied on tracking powers like Dark Mist couldn't tell the difference. He made one of the clones turn around while flying. the clone made his hand into a claw and brought it down hard on the air. The super in the air above slammed into the high-gravity area and rocketed towards the ground. Damien then dispersed the clones, sending them every which way. He himself landed on a gleaming black Nissan Altima, crushing the roof with his aura. There was a blue Toyota in front of him. He bent down and pushed off, crushing the roof even more.
Yes Aqua, I just ruined your new car. Hit and Run!
Reggie glided through the crowd like a ghost. Money from the wallets of passerbys slid out from their leather bound carriers and stuffed themselves into Reggie's pockets. It was so busy that no one noticed. He moved out from the crowds and down a small alley. He looked up.
Sometimes it's just too easy
Harnessing the power of his mind, he gently lifted himself up. He kept climbing higher and higher into the air till he landed gracefully on the roof of the building that had been to the left of him. He opened a hatch door and jumped inside. It closed behind him as he landed in his reasonably sized appartment.
It was more of a bedsit. The bedroom, living room and kitchen were all just one big room. There was a small shower room just off to the side but that was in. The vacany of walls wasn't the only strange thing.It had no windows or doors(apart from the one on the roof for enterance, no one could get in that way other then him). Only other people would need such things. Not Reggie. He was special, he knew it. Not many other people did. He didn't let them know.
He stared at the wall and as he did it warped. It bent forward and revealed a small room behind it. The room was almost full of money.
I'm basically collecting it now he thought as he threw in the money from today and reformed the wall. He was used to never having enough money on the streets. Stockpiling it was kind of natural. He glanced at the kettle and it boiled instantly. A mug flew out of one of the kitchen cambinets and landed on the counter. A jar of coffee tipped some of it's contents inside. The kettle then tipped some of it's own contents into the cup. Finally a carton of milk wizzed out of a fridge and tipped a little of it's self in. By this time Reggie had brought his mail from his box downstairs out of the building, up to the roof and dropped it in through the hatch.
He caught it and began to sift through the junk-mail and what was of interest. The coffee cup glided into his hand and took a sip.
Ah, life's good
He retired to the sofa/ He drank his coffee as the newspaper suspended in mid-air for him to read. It turned it's pages for him as he glanced through.
Nout good, no change there. That's Urbis for you
Sometimes it's just too easy
Harnessing the power of his mind, he gently lifted himself up. He kept climbing higher and higher into the air till he landed gracefully on the roof of the building that had been to the left of him. He opened a hatch door and jumped inside. It closed behind him as he landed in his reasonably sized appartment.
It was more of a bedsit. The bedroom, living room and kitchen were all just one big room. There was a small shower room just off to the side but that was in. The vacany of walls wasn't the only strange thing.It had no windows or doors(apart from the one on the roof for enterance, no one could get in that way other then him). Only other people would need such things. Not Reggie. He was special, he knew it. Not many other people did. He didn't let them know.
He stared at the wall and as he did it warped. It bent forward and revealed a small room behind it. The room was almost full of money.
I'm basically collecting it now he thought as he threw in the money from today and reformed the wall. He was used to never having enough money on the streets. Stockpiling it was kind of natural. He glanced at the kettle and it boiled instantly. A mug flew out of one of the kitchen cambinets and landed on the counter. A jar of coffee tipped some of it's contents inside. The kettle then tipped some of it's own contents into the cup. Finally a carton of milk wizzed out of a fridge and tipped a little of it's self in. By this time Reggie had brought his mail from his box downstairs out of the building, up to the roof and dropped it in through the hatch.
He caught it and began to sift through the junk-mail and what was of interest. The coffee cup glided into his hand and took a sip.
Ah, life's good
He retired to the sofa/ He drank his coffee as the newspaper suspended in mid-air for him to read. It turned it's pages for him as he glanced through.
Nout good, no change there. That's Urbis for you
Cursing as something crushed the roof of the vehicle behind him, Nathan quickly jumped out and ran off. No way he had time for dealing with other super powered freaks. Lucky for him, a police cruiser was just pulling up a side-street, with two policemen inside.
The perfect hosts.
Running towards them and waving his hands like a civilian in trouble, Nathan shot a string into each of the officers. His spirit string passing right through the glass window and attaching itself to each officer.
"Candy from a baby..."
He chuckled as he got into the backseat
"Where to sir?"
asked the officer driving, a young stocky blonde kid
"Away from here"
Nathan muttered, and then to the officer in the passenger seat
"You might want to have that shotgun at the ready"
And on cue, the older looking veteran pulled out the pump action shotgun from under the seat giving it a quick CHA-CHIK, ensuring it was loaded and ready to go.
The cruiser quickly backed up down the alley and spun around down a separate street as Nathan pondered what had happened. More powered people? Probably, but he was too busy to deal with them. He just needed peace and quiet for now. Time to think.
The perfect hosts.
Running towards them and waving his hands like a civilian in trouble, Nathan shot a string into each of the officers. His spirit string passing right through the glass window and attaching itself to each officer.
"Candy from a baby..."
He chuckled as he got into the backseat
"Where to sir?"
asked the officer driving, a young stocky blonde kid
"Away from here"
Nathan muttered, and then to the officer in the passenger seat
"You might want to have that shotgun at the ready"
And on cue, the older looking veteran pulled out the pump action shotgun from under the seat giving it a quick CHA-CHIK, ensuring it was loaded and ready to go.
The cruiser quickly backed up down the alley and spun around down a separate street as Nathan pondered what had happened. More powered people? Probably, but he was too busy to deal with them. He just needed peace and quiet for now. Time to think.
Just as Dubois was beginning to feel the calmness resettle in her heart with the pleasurable comfort of sunlight on her face, an explosive noise sounded from above. The roof of the shining vehicle crumpled inward, as though a bowling ball had dropped from incredible heights. She straightened in her seat stiffly, staring at the roof, before calling,
"Manson!" Another one... It must be. Or is this too good a day to be true? "Steer us straight."
The bald man didn't need to nod or speak- she gathered his affirmation as he swiftly reached into the glove box. An array of pistols and handguns sat on racks inside. He grabbed a rather odd looking one, some sort of cross between a pistol and a three-needled syringe.
Jamming a wrinkling finger on the button under her arm, the window rolled down smoothly, and Dubois poked her head out from the empty gap. She craned her head up carefully upward. Strangely enough, she was greeted by the backside of a stranger, crouched and seemingly preparing to launch himself onto the next car. Without hesitation, she established a connection with the man's mind- an easy task, considering his unawareness of her.
Within mere moments, an illusion sprung to the stranger's mind, a hallucination of such detail it felt impossible to differentiate from reality. He now stood crouched in a foreign schoolyard, the ground soggy with rain, puddles from recesses in dirt very common. Nearby sat a few rustic playground toys- four wooden swings, a straight slide with a ladder, and a variety of other old playthings. Present day plastic horses and such things were not to be found.
A building was visible nearby, of beautiful architecture. Under the shadows of its arches and glass paned windows, a number of girls huddled away from the rain, while the braver ones stomped in the wet soil. A chill fall breeze stirred their skirts. In fact, all of them wore skirts, a common uniform, though the style seemed to be of a different time period.
As the man took in the sights, a small hand tugged on the back of his sleeve. A small girl with an abundance of brown ringlets stood behind him, gazing up to him with inquisitive eyes.
"Are you the new teacher, sir?" she asked in a tiny voice; she couldn't have been more than seven years old. She looked him up and down. "Those are odd clothes. Are you the Russian teacher?" There was a faint trace of a French accent in her voice, but not overly so.
"Manson!" Another one... It must be. Or is this too good a day to be true? "Steer us straight."
The bald man didn't need to nod or speak- she gathered his affirmation as he swiftly reached into the glove box. An array of pistols and handguns sat on racks inside. He grabbed a rather odd looking one, some sort of cross between a pistol and a three-needled syringe.
Jamming a wrinkling finger on the button under her arm, the window rolled down smoothly, and Dubois poked her head out from the empty gap. She craned her head up carefully upward. Strangely enough, she was greeted by the backside of a stranger, crouched and seemingly preparing to launch himself onto the next car. Without hesitation, she established a connection with the man's mind- an easy task, considering his unawareness of her.
Within mere moments, an illusion sprung to the stranger's mind, a hallucination of such detail it felt impossible to differentiate from reality. He now stood crouched in a foreign schoolyard, the ground soggy with rain, puddles from recesses in dirt very common. Nearby sat a few rustic playground toys- four wooden swings, a straight slide with a ladder, and a variety of other old playthings. Present day plastic horses and such things were not to be found.
A building was visible nearby, of beautiful architecture. Under the shadows of its arches and glass paned windows, a number of girls huddled away from the rain, while the braver ones stomped in the wet soil. A chill fall breeze stirred their skirts. In fact, all of them wore skirts, a common uniform, though the style seemed to be of a different time period.
As the man took in the sights, a small hand tugged on the back of his sleeve. A small girl with an abundance of brown ringlets stood behind him, gazing up to him with inquisitive eyes.
"Are you the new teacher, sir?" she asked in a tiny voice; she couldn't have been more than seven years old. She looked him up and down. "Those are odd clothes. Are you the Russian teacher?" There was a faint trace of a French accent in her voice, but not overly so.