<~{ World of Heroes }~> ...it begins... (LSUs welcome)

[Heald]

World of Heroes

Shall we get the ball rolling?

---

Name: Jaecar Mikitenko
Alias: Red Bear (he is only known by this name; only a select few call him by his real name)
Gender: Male
Age: 42
Nationality: German/Russian
Alignment: Neutral
Powers: He is naturally imbued with super-strength, stamina and regeneration. On top of that, he has been modified with armour-plating and in-built weapons.
Power Source: Inherited/Technology
Weaknesses: Large enough blasts can take him down, as can wearing him down. He can also run out of fuel, severely limiting his offensive capabilities. He is also a bit old and rusty.
Personality: Bitter and resentful, he is a forgotten relic of the Soviet age and as such he isn't the friendliest of sorts. He is loud and outspoken and does not care if he offends or upsets anyone. However, he is intelligent and can display a degree of empathy, plus his experience and age has wisened him to the world and he may just divulge his wisdom to younger types.
Appearance: He stands at 6' 4" and is a muscular Caucasian man. He sports a reddish-brown beard and has tough, worn skin. He has huge hairy eyebrows and in quite hirsute all over. Steel plates have been grafted all over his body, including his arms, torso, legs and his head, where his hair should be. He wears an eye-patch as he lost his eye many years ago. He usually wears dark, dirty combat trousers and a white vest, with a dark trenchcoat. He also has a small cylindrical fuel tank grafted into his back which causes a long hump down his back, which he hides with a bullet-proof red cape, which has a faded hammer-and-sickle on it.
Weapons: He has hidden flamethrowers in his hands and his boots are rocket-boots, allowing limited flight capabilities.
History: The son of a Soviet super that fought against the aliens and a German civilian, he was raised in Leipzig, East Germany. Being the son of a super, he developed his own powers in adolescence and was targeted by Soviet authorities for their own Super program. Take from his parents aged 9, he was trained to fight for the Soviet cause in a secret camp in Siberia, and to boost his powers he was unwillingly fitted with his armour and weapons. He was sent to fight in Afghanistan for the Soviet cause, but as the conflict drew to a close, he became disillusioned and deserted back to Germany. In response, the Soviets disowned him, making him nationality-less. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, he found a deserted retreat in the Bavarian Alps. Local authorities know that he has no nationality but they have agreed not to turn him in to immigration authorities, knowing it would be more trouble than it is worth. The new Russian government have a staunch policy disavowing any relations to Soviet supers, thus preventing him from regaining Russian citizenship.
Theme(s): Rammstein - Feuer Frei
Relationships: His parents are dead, otherwise he had a mentor known as Crazy Ivan whose whereabouts are currently unknown
Other: Nope.

---

Jaecar Mikitenko/Red Bear

The morning was crisp, and a cold chill swept through the dilapidated house. Jaecar shifted through the house in his overcoat with a big china mug and went to a cupboard. Opening it up, he grabbed the first bottle inside, a large bottle of vodka, and proceeded to fill up the stained mug with the spirit. He took a big swig from the bottle for good measure, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his overcoat. He wandered past a cracked mirror to a radio and turned it on nonchalantly, then walking outside to take in the morning air. His joints creaked, having fallen into disuse and he had not cared to oil them for nearly a decade now. He took a deep breath of the morning air, and closed his eyes, letting his ears become nature's. he could hear a waterfall in the background and the sound of birds. The radio was broadcasting the morning news, which he cared not to listen to.

"...New York Authorities are calling for measures to be taken against this new 'super' crime wave that has been plaguing the state as of late. In other news, Russia have denied reports that high energy signatures in Siberia are a result of weapons testing. However, they are refusing to let in U.N. authorities to investigate. The U.S.A. has..."

A car pulled into the driveway. A beaten, old Volkswagon. A man stepped out, dressed in a brown winter coat and a hat. It was the local police sergeant, an old friend of Jaecar's.
"Herr Mikitenko," he said warmly as he took off his hat. He was around 60 years old and had a thick, grey moustache. He was carrying a carrier bag full of groceries and a bratwurst roll. Jaecar smiled and took the carrier bag, and the sergeant took a bite from the roll.
"Thank you for these, Herr Kustner. Any news from the town?"
Herr Kustner smiled and looked down the mountain to the small town. Most prominently was a church spire emanating from the series of houses and shops.
"Ja, Frau Gestern has had another little girl."
Jaecar turned to a shed and picked up a wheelbarrow.
"I've had your timber ready for a few days now," he said. Suddenly, the wind picked up.

The two looked up to the skies, and two small black helicopters, followed by a larger black one emerged from the cloud.
"Well, this is certainly most interesting," Herr Kustner said, shielding his eyes from the sun to get a good look. The helicopters proceeded to land in the yard in front of the house, and out emerged men in suits, and then a few men in winter Army coats, wearing shapka hats with the flaps worn down.
"Well, this would certainly explain the presence of suited men in Church last Sunday," Herr Kustner said. Jaecar turned to him.
"What? And you never told me?"
"They were not Germans, and I assumed you would not want the worry of being found. Besides, it matters little now."
Jaecar sighed and waited for the men to approach him. Some were carrying pistols, others had heavier gear, including SMGs.

"Red Bear, you are a hard man to find!" said one of the army coats in a thick Russian voice. Herr Kustner could not understand Russian, but he knew the accent well.
"Russians, huh?" he said in German. Jaecar turned to him.
"You'd better leave. I don't think this is a personal visit, somehow."
The sergeant nodded and took his leave. Jaecar turned to the army coat.
"So, why have you come here? I thought I was down with you guys for good."
"The Russian government, perhaps, but we still keep tabs on our weapons, Jaecar."
This struck Jaecar immensely. Only Russians involved in the 'Hand of Lenin' programme knew his real name. He let his shock turn into a smile.
"So, ex-Soviets."
"A very secret wing of the Russian army. Even the government doesn't know of our existence. They don't trust us ex-Soviets, but when they fired damn near all of our top guys, we took with us the secrets of over 100 installations that we never revealed to the government. However, at the risk of being compromised, we need your help. There has been an...incident...in Siberia."
Jaecar turned away.
"Sorry, but I no longer work for you, and your mess is your own."
The army chief smiled and picked up a briefcase.
"Not even...for this?"
The briefcase opened and Jaecar turned around. It was filled with documentation: a passport, birth certificate, work permit, everything needed for a full identity. Jaecar looked up, astounded.
"This passport would not only make you a full citizen of the Russian federation, but one with diplomatic privileges. You could travel to any country you'd want."
Jaecar stood up straight and nodded.
"Okay, I'm in. But I'll need a tool-up."
The army coat laughed and gave him a once-over.
"Yes, I can see you've become...rusty...and on this helicopter we have the equipment necessary to tool you up on the journey over."
Jaecar nodded and followed the suits onto the helicopter, and prepared to enter action once again.

---

OOC: Okay guys, so do what you guys do. Fight crime, cause crime or whatever you want. Introductory posts and what not. I'll get the main plot rolling soon so everyone can get involved.

[Blademaster]

Hmmmm... Are LSU's welcome here? I've been debating with myself for awhile whether or not to try a new RPG...

[Heald]

Oh, yes, they are. Go ahead man.

[Houndoom_Lover]

Name: Real name unknown (Whatever is on his birth certificate)

Alias: Nazerith

Gender: None

Age: ???

Nationality: ???

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Powers: Nazerith can animate inanimate objects, fly, and the general super human strength.

Power Source: Water, the more water Nazerith contains inside him, the longer he can keep things animated. He expells water when he preforms this ability to animate.

Weaknesses: Drying out. Once he his out of water, he freezes up so to speak and becomes a simple but large stone gargoyle.

Personality: A reserved being with a freaky intense focus.

Appearance: A twelve foot tall gargoyle come to life. Nazerith's eyes gleem red, his have a rather beak like mouth, large bat like wings, long tail, and tiger claws. He is grey all over.

Weapons: Stone statues, metal monsters, his teeth and claws and tail and body.

History: Nazerith was, of course, abandoned as a child for his freakish appearance. A straving artist plunked him out of the dumpster he was left in. The artist was a carver, and painter and found this child beast beautiful. He raised this generless creature up, which was alot cheeper then a cat, since he didn't need to feed it. The creature spoke frightfully early, naming itself Nazerith, after a carving the man was working on. The creature grew and grew, until it was too large to fit in the apparement. So, in the dead of the night, he smuggled the monster to the nearest Cathideral. Nazerith watched the man make his way home under the shadow of the church when he was mugged and killed by two men in the said shadow. Nazerith quickly dispatched them. From that day forward, Nazerith lurks in the shadows, killing off anyone who isn't beautiful in his eyes- anyone who hunts for money, and anyone who isn't artistic. Centuries passed... Nazerith gained the ability to animate at the cost of his simple life. Now he must perch in the open, waiting for rain to fall (Though he found a nice water hole in the seware the other day, and is not above bathing in holy water). However, he has not waivered in his hunt. He will kill all those who do not create art, and hide in greed.

Theme(s): http://www.last.fm/music/...And+You+...rgoyle+Waiting Gargoyle Waiting

Relationships: He once fell in love with a statue of Venus...

Other: He enjoys fine arts and lively tourests.

----

The bells of the city's grand chruch rung, deep and sober, for the next mass to start. The bells vibrated the old building, not so much that humans would feel it, but the stone could...It felt...good. And yet painful, at the same time. It made Nazerith's teeth rattle in his head, but it tingled the paws of his stone-like claws.

He poked his head out of the stone tower and watched the late chruch goers rush into Mass. He'd leave them. Out of respect. As soon as the last bell rang, he took off. His great wings beat just once, pushing the air down below him.

And as straight as it seems, no one saw him. And if they did, who would they tell. They'd be crazy, and no one listens to crazy people.

[Bulbasaur4]

Name: Alyssa Morgan

Alias: She deems herself, "Nuanica".

Gender: Female

Age: 21

Nationality: American

Alignment: Neutral Neutral (Not really good or evil and inbetween Chaotic/Lawful.)

Powers: Nuanica's powers are... chaotic in themselves, to describe it best. Still unable to master her powers, she is not even fully aware of them. It appears that she has the ability to harness energy, usually taking a violet ball-like shape and use that as a simple tool like one would use a fireball. When feeling extreme emotions however, is when her capabilities show... for things usually start exploding or hurling about. (Think sorta like Scarlet Witch, pre-controled.) She's trying to control herself, although her origins make it difficult for her. She also can transform into a large, shadowy wolf, but that is also something she cannot control yet.

Power Source: Energy or Shadow, depends how you look at it.

Weaknesses: Her own emotions, for her own personal weakness. Her other weakness is quite simply drugs- if given a powerful suppressant, her emotions don't go crazy and she doesn't trigger anything since she doesn't know how to utilize her powers. When (if) she learns how to control them, I will discover a different weakness for her. :3

Personality: Timid, aloof, afraid... she mutated at age 16 and her appearance changed drastically and her emotional overload practically demolished her household. After her parent's death, she fled and since then has been an outcast. Unable to show herself in daylight, she has grown to be a loner and a bit pessimistic about life overall. If someone calls out for help, she might go help them depending on the situation... but at the other hand, if it would expose herself she most likely would not. She's not sure where she should stand in the world, and hence is leaving herself in the shadows for the most part.

Appearance: Long-legged, slim and proportionally curved... Nuanica, if looking more human, would have found life easy as a model. However, her mutant-like appearance causes most fear and alarm. Her entire skin black- not pitch black, but dark enough to be called black and not gray. Near her neck is a few small tuffs of fur and is the only spot that fur is upon her body other than her non-humanoid components. Her nose is slightly smaller than what would be considered 'normal' and her icey blue eyes have slitted pupils within. Her long blonde hair remains, flowing down almost to her hips and framing the front of her face to create layered too-long-to-be bangs. Protruding from her head are large, fox/wolf-like ears and Nuanica does not have human ears. An overly large, thick-furred black tail also matches those ears, setting her clearly apart from all of society. Her feet are always placed in a position as if she were always walking on her tip toes although they appear to be normal human feet.

Usually Nuanica wears skin-tight black clothing to help blend in and has an overly-larged hooded jacket that she uses to cover herself up. It billows out so far behind her that it makes her look like a really overweight person, due to her tail being hidden. She doesn't wear shoes.

Weapons: Herself.

History: Nuanica grew up in a normal suburbian family setting. She was extremely beautiful, popular and enjoyed playing sports such as basketball and swimming. Her parents were quite proud of her and her younger brother, who was in a similiar situation. However, soon as Nuanica hit sixteen, everything changed. Slowly her skin started to darken and her body shifted, her human ears shifting slightly in position and growing into what they appear to be now. Frightened, scared and appauled, Nuanica's emotions began shattering lights, flinging furniture and such. Her parents were also frightened and enlisted in help, but the night before they were due to head off to a facility, a Nuanica's parents died.
During the night, while Nuanica slept, her subconcious seemed to transform her into her more shadowy, wolven state and it was in that state that she murdered her parents- unknown to her conscious. When Nuanica came to, she had transformed back into her humanoid appearance and discovered not only her dead parents, but herself covered in blood.

Fleeing and leaving her brother, Nuanica fled and now lives in Chicago- away from her suburbian home.

Nuanica now makes a living in the basement of an abandoned warehouse. Every day when she hides herself and prepares to sleep, she shackles herself to the wall to prevent her wolven self to go anywhere- for it seems that sleep is the most common trigger to her transformation. At night, Nuanica merely prowls for food and often tries to find a way to make a meager buck although it is quite difficult for her, given her situation.

Theme(s): Fallen Angel Remix
Ten Black Roses - The Rasmus

Relationships: She wonders about her brother often.
Other:

NUANICA
[ Female | American | Location: Chicago ]
~@-`~@-`~@-`~@-`~

Her eyes of ice peered out from the shadows which danced in the corner of the large loading dock right outside of the grocery store. It was one of those small markets located with in the city that closed early and was owned by a man who didn't speak English very well and had a nasty habit of staying in his secluded office of the store after it was closed. Hunger had driven Nuanica to watch him closely and realize that his habits often lead to an ill-locked door next to the large garage loading dock. With enough force, she could jolt the door open with little sound and since technically the man had not left, no alarms would sound and yet he couldn't see- not with the lights out.

"It isn't like I'm stealing the money either..." She whispered to herself slightly as her slinking figure glided to the door, her hood hiding her face. The camera that positioned itself near the loading dock had been moved slightly to the side by her own hand- keeping her spot of entry just out of its reach.

Like usual, the door opened with a distinct thudding noise that could have barely been heard by anyone not near the door. Her eyes instantly became accustomed to the darkness with little trouble, as she silently pushed the door close to leave only but a small crack.

Taking a deep breath, she brushed through the swinging doors and into the main store. The lights were out and shadows were everywhere- something perfect for Nuanica to remain unseen. With little haste, she opened a clothed bag and began gently placing things inside. She learned not to rush such matters long ago, for rushing things heightened emotions... made her panic... and tended to make a lot of noise.

Several packages of beef jerky, a few large bottles of water, some fruit and several canned goods went into the bag. She was careful to not take too much of any one thing and often would force a change in her diet if supplies were already low within the store. Tonight they seemed to be plenty stocked however, and she helped herself to a few packages of ribeye steak and a Milkyway candy bar.

After her gathering round was done and her bag was stuffed, she slunk out of the store as easily as she had come. Closing the door with a similar thudding noise, she sprang from the shadows and hastily retreated to her refuge.


The abandoned warehouse seemed to have little signs of ever being taken care of. It was an eyesore to some eyes, but it wasn't so bad that it drew any attention to the City Department. They had better things to worry about... like gangs, baseball games and pollution. One little abandoned store that no one wanted in the Southside of Chicago was hardly a worry.

Nuanica remembered when she had first entered the place, a few gangs had made habits in making their rounds in the building at night. After a few weeks however, she had made most of the gangs in Chicago believe the place was deadly haunted and they stayed away. No one bothered to go into the place during the day, being that the police route often drove by the abandoned warehouse and going there in the day was like asking for someone to pay close attention to you.

Of course, there would be a few brave souls who would enter the place on a dare or some right of passage.... but they were rare and few inbetween, and Nuanica easily stayed hidden from their gaze. The only thing that ever betrayed her in the darkness was her blonde hair, but with her acquired black jacket and hood- that was little problem for her anymore.

Collapsing upon the cold cement floor of the basement, Nuanica swiftly put away her things underneath a pile of stone and wood that broken apart long ago. It made a nice handy secluded area to hide food where no one's wandering eye would spot it.

"Long night..." Nuanica thought to herself, after her long patrol in the city. It was a game of paranoia - not being seen but yet seeing others. Every little sound was something new to behold, although she was getting quite adept at learning the common sounds of the city and the things that stood out.
Opening up the ribeye steak, she sank her teeth into it and chewed thoughtfully as she prepared in her mind the next night's plans. Between each mouthful, she would take a bite of her Milkyway bar too- as a treat. She was thankful that with her mutation, the only food she didn't seem to care for anymore were bitter things like onions and lemons. Not a huge loss there, although the odd desire for raw meat was something she had just become used to.

Thankfully, it wasn't a passionate desire...more of a greedy lust, like a kid wanting a cookie before dinner.

After the second steak, Nuanica felt the heavy knocking of sleep upon her eyelids. With a yawn, she slowly rose to her feet and walked over to a hidden corner at the very end of the basement's hallway. It was an odd dead-end of sorts, but it was out of the way of light during the day and hard to find if you didn't know where you were going. There, hastily-made chains were connected to the wall, screwed in tightly and with great care. Mechanically, Nuanica grabbed the chains and fastened them to her wrists and ankles, securing them in a rather automatic fashion. Another large yawn escaped her as she leaned against the chilled cement wall with a sigh. Securing her hood over her face, she closed her eyes and let her dreamless sleep take her.










Name: Unknown

Alias: By the Chinese government, her label is "Shengmingli", which means "life force". Some of the workers there have labeled her "Blood" (translated into English).

Gender: Female

Age: Appears 12-14 or so.

Nationality: Chinese

Alignment: Undetermined. She doesn't even seem to have much of a will of her own anymore, thus her alignment is usually defined by those she is around. Could be labeled as "neutral". Has very little understanding of 'right' and 'wrong'.

Powers: Massive health regeneration. Her biggest point however, is her blood seems to share its healing properties to whatever organic being it comes in contact with. Also, one can feel a boost in energy/revitalized if they touch her- as if having taken a fresh shower, a cup of coffee or whatever 'pick me up' that person may like. However, this energy feeling is not shared with Shengmingli.

Power Source: Natural

Weaknesses: Shengmingli is physically weak and has no fighting potential what-so ever. Also, while her body regenerates at an alarming rate, she does feel fatigue and loses energy with her blood loss. So, while she may not die from blood loss, she definitely would be rendered immobile and unable to do anything until her body had regenerated the blood- which takes longer than all other tissues. She also has practically little will of her own and seems to follow the commands of others readily.

Personality: Shengmingli has no personality, at first. Having been ripped from her parents by the government for testing for a couple years, she has been 'brainwashed' to have little will of her own and easily follows commands given to her by practically anyone. While if observed, she does show curiosity in other organic life forms.. as if she doesn't remember ever seeing one before.

Appearance: Like This She has that basic appearance, but her hair is raven-black with a hint of blue in the light. Her eyes also an eerie, reddish-mahogany color that really stands out and separates her from 'normal' people in China. At the government research facility, she wears a red, yellow-flowered embroidered dress that is slightly faded and worn. She has matching slippers, but they too are a bit worn as well. H

Weapons: None

History: Shengmingli, or "Blood" perhaps grew up in a normal, healthy Chinese family. Her father worked for a successful business and her mother merely stayed at home and tended to three children, including Shengmingli. However, one day while playing outside Shengmingli ran out into the busy streets of Shanghai and a car hit her, full on. Her torso had been crushed along with her legs and she was pronounced dead on site. However, within ten minutes or so... her organs had been repaired and she started to breath again and her bones then restructured and she 'came back to life'. Word immediately got out to the Government and they seized her from her family. Vowing to silence or death, her family had no choice but to give her up.

It has been a year of tests and brainwashing for Shengmingli and she's stuck in a scientific research facility. There she lives in a small room with limited things and is always tired due to the consistent tests- although the government has yet to make any 'break throughs' or learn anything from her.

However... rumors about her have been leaked out into certain parts of the world...

Theme(s): I Walk Alone - Tarja Turunen

Relationships: None at the moment

Other:

Shengmingli AKA Blood
[ Female | Chinese | Location: Somewhere in Shanghai ]
~^^^~^^^~^^^~^^^~

She stared at the door, sitting upon the chair obediently as the men scurried about her like lab-rats. They had told her to not move and to be quiet, and thus she sat there staring emptily at the door without so much as a flinch. One of the larger men, the 'leader', as she deemed him, poked a needle through her skin and began to slide in neatly into one of her veins. However, he missed and with a curse he withdrew the needle an tried again.
"Try raising her water rations..." He commented to another, who nodded and marked the note down upon a tablet. "... she's dehydrated, I can't be expected to waste my time with trying to get a simple needle in her vein." He sighed, sticking the needle in again and finally the thick mahogany blood began to gurgle into a phial.

Meanwhile another scientist plopped another needle into her arm, his fifth try, and managed to get the blood flowing from her into another phial as well. He yawned somewhat and after draining blood into five phials, he put them neatly upon a tray and sent them off. With a swift snap of a glove, he exposed his skin and placed his wet hand upon Shengmingli's forehead. His eyes widened some-what and he withdrew a crisp breath, grinning slightly as he walked away with a bit more of a skip in his step.

She quietly pondered about where the door in front of her led to, ignoring the painful pricks and swiveling needles that drew her blood. Slowly however, she grew more tired and her head seemed to dance about as she grew light-headed. The short duration of their testing seemed to last longer as her face paled and they continued to work around her.
"Sir, the testing rounds are complete for today."
"Good, good. Send her back to her room. Tomorrow we'll do the regeneration tests. "

A few scientists plucked the IVs from her arms and hastily picked her up. Walking to the backdoor, they opened it and swiftly plopped her down onto a small, cot-like bed. Her eyes fluttered about for a moment as their voices seemed to trail off and when the familiar locking of her door was complete, she let out a sigh. The hot sting of tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, the pain finally rewashing over her.
" No crying..." She whispered to herself, remembering what they had told her.

[classy_cat18]

So booooooored...this had better not be another dead-end RPG!

Name: Nia Windfall
Alias: Aria
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Nationality: Greek American
Alignment: Neutral Chaotic
Powers: Her voice can have different effects, from breaking glass (and anything else that's breakable), to disorientation, to putting people to sleep. A different song for each attack. There's even a mind-control song, but the victim is only affected while she's singing and within a certain range, but the victim doesn't have to hear it to be affected. Her powers can be amplified if there's an echo, but that makes it hard to focus.
Power Source: She's one of the last surviving Sirens from Greek Mythology. The mixing of genes and the thinning of the bloodline has made her appearance totally human.
Weaknesses: Since her powers involve her vocal cords, her voice weakening can definitely be a bad thing. And she can't sing if she can't breathe.
Personality: Laid-back and lacking in the chivalry department. In fact, she's prone to use her powers for random troublemaking. She'll usually only use her powers for her own benefit. But she does have a conscience so she'll have what she calls "Boy Scout moments", but only after having an argument with her reluctant side. She tries to stay away from heroics as much as possible because she thinks that people will expect her to be a full-time superhero. Sarcastic most of the time, but will be friendly towards others if she thinks they're genuine.
Appearance: 5'9" and light as a feather. Long brown hair that she adorns with a headband. Her bright green eyes go well with her tanned skin. Since she doesn't do a lot of running or jumping, she prefers to wear long skirts and white T-shirts with sandals. A tattoo of a snake wraps around her right calf.
Weapons: Besides her own voice, she carries around a special flute in a hip pouch. Given to her ancestors from the Muses and carried down through the generations, it can help her shield her from and reflect enemies' attacks as she plays it.
History: Her power had been known ever since she came out of the womb and cracked the family doctor's glasses with her cries. Nia's family has had to hide the secret that traits of their mythical ancestry pop up once every century, and only in the girls. The last time a Windfall Siren had been revealed, they were burned at the stake. In fact, the last four times ended in execution. Although it's not very popular in current times, they didn't want to take chances. She took special medicine that gave her a sore throat and home-schooled her until she was eighteen. By then she had good control of her powers. She doesn't live in one place for long, but is currently living in Seattle.
Theme(s): Theme of Love - Metal Gear Solid 4 soundtrack
Relationships: none that I know of at the moment
Other: There have been times that she sings a certain song to herself, in Latin. She doesn't know that some people tend to hallucinate about random things when they hear it.

"Nice atmosphere...good drinks...good place," I commented to the bartender. My eyes locked onto the drink in front of me since the bartender's stare was starting to annoy me.

The owner of the bar sat next to me and ordered his own drink. "So you're here for the job? Five hundred bucks a week," he informed me before taking a sip.

"Nine hundred."

He did a spit take and widened his eyes. "What was that?"

"Nine hundred a week. And free drinks and food." My eyes narrowed. "Don't you think that's a fair deal?"

"You're underage."

"You're desperate," I returned with a smirk. "Besides, I'm not the youngest one here. That couple over there isn't even legal if you know what I mean."

I enjoyed his red face getting even redder, his teeth grinding together, his hands itching to choke me. "I'm not going any higher," he growled at me.

"I'm not going any lower."

He gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down. "Give us a taste and I'll see if you're worth the money."

"Okie-dokie." I got down from my stool and walked to the stage. I'll give you a whole damn symphony, you jackass.

Heads that were previously nodding in exhaustion looked up as I approached the microphone. "Good evening, everyone. I call myself Aria and I've been given the task of entertaining you for this evening. I hope you're ready for this treat."

Everyone seemed to be happy for some fun. But I had something else in mind. Let's tune first. "Do re mi fa....SO!" At the sound of my last note, every customer's glass broke into pieces.

The owner stared at his wounded hand. His glass had shattered while he was still holding onto it. "What the hell!" he exclaimed.

Another customer merely stared at the shards and spilled alcohol before laughing. "Awesome! She's like one of those opera singers!" He stood up and clapped along with some more people.

I laughed. These people are too wasted to care!

"Encore!" my drunken buddy shouted.

"That was just a warm-up," I said. I started to sing again, random notes that just sounded pretty together. I hit another loud note and one of the bottles behind the bartender broke. The bartender and owner cursed together.

"Are you doing this?" the owner demanded.

"You know how to stop this," I answered.

"Hell no!"

"Okay then." I went back to singing, three more bottles shattering in the process before I stopped again. By the way the bartender was starting to cry I'd say that one of them was pretty expensive. "Nine hundred and free food and drink."

"I don't think--" the owner started.

I wasn't into losing. I let out a loud but short note. Another bottle shattered, spilling alcohol all over both him and the bartender. "I don't negotiate with cheapskates."

He held his hands up. "Fine! Fine! You got a deal, now stop that!"

I nodded and returned to him happily. "And it'll be good for both of us if you'd keep this little secret of mine as such. I'll keep your customers happy and you'll get to keep doing your nasty little business. Win-win, buddy!"

The look of shock he gave me was very funny. Yeah, I knew about his little business deals behind closed doors. I could easily convince him to give me a deal. "It's not personal. I just need to pay for my apartment and stuff. Not like I'm wringing out a fortune." I left him like that, headed for my home and bed so he could recover from tonight's act.

[Roy Karrde]

Name: Jason Landrew
Alias: Sentinel
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Nationality: America
Alignment: Good, Lawful
Powers: The ability to bend gravity and physics around his body, allowing to pull off super human feats and quick speed. He also has been trained and skilled in martial arts due to his past history, as well as being a talented swordsman.
Power Source: Magical/Natural
Weaknesses: He is weak to magic, specifically magic blasts, he can take normal weapons fire in his armor, but anything stronger could blast it apart.
Personality: He is incredibly naive about the evil in the world as well as the less than clear difference of dark and light in the world. He acts some what foolish as a hero, getting himself into dangerous situations with out thinking, and usually biting off more than he can usually chew. This can also come from his need to show off in front of both a general audience as well as cute girls.
Appearance: Standing about five foot four inches Jason does not look very intimidating; his body is a bit lanky, but with a lot of muscle definition. He is very clean shaven, with dirty blonde hair that remains uncut and messy, some times dipping below the top of his ears and his eyes. His costume is a modified version of his Gymnastics leotard, the color of it being black with dark red circles on either side of his waist. The leotard is modified with light Kevlar armor on the chest, back, arms, and leggings.
Weapons: His Twin Swords
History: Jason grew up surrounded by the sport of gymnastics, both of his parents were gymnastic coaches for Olympic athletes, and as such he not only grew up learning and exceeding in gymnastics, but was also surrounded by the best athletes the country provided. At a young age Jason fell in love with comic books and any story of super heroes no matter how exaggerated.

When he finally became aware of his powers, Jason decided privately he would emulate the heroes he had always read about, and his home life gave him the perfect opportunity for that. He was able to learn sword fighting from some of the greatest fencers in the country, he was able to learn Judo and martial arts from some of the greatest contestants in those sports, and he continued his studies in gymnastics, all in the hope that when he became old enough that he could join the ranks of the other heroes.
Theme(s): Maybe Later
Relationships: Open
Other: Nuttin

Jason Landrew
~~~[Sentinel | 6 PM at Night | Arizona ] ~~~~

I had been perched on top of the warehouse for nearly two hours, watching the men unload guns, mines, and just various heavy weaponry. The stuff looked like the things you would see in R rated, not that I would know what things looked like in R rated movies. Either way they were not going to do this in my town!

I stood for a moment, striking my heroic hero pose, and for a moment wishing I had a cape before remembering how aggravating they were.

Back flipping through the window I sailed downward, using my powers to slow gravity’s pull on my body and ease gently to the ground, landing as soft as a feather with out a single sound. The thugs continued to continue to unload the various weaponry with out even noticing.

“So… do those shoot real bullets?” I asked, inwardly wincing at how pathetic the remark was. The remark did how ever catch their attention, causing one to drop a shipment of side arms which sent them spilling across the floor. “Or do they just flash and make noises?”

It took only the blink of a eye before I found out the answer as one of the brutes just to the left of me swung his main weapon around off of his shoulder and leveled it at me. “Don’t wanna find out.” I jumped into the air quickly as the man opened fire, sending small hot metal bullets flying past me as I somersaulted over the thug in front of me. Limiting the gravity in the air around me to that of nearly nothing to stop the somersault and give the thug a quick kick to the head.

“What no applause?” I asked, sticking the perfect landing as gravity returned to normal around me.

“It’s one of those freaks!” Some one shouted, as the revving of the truck that was being loaded with the firearms signaled that the rest of them were trying to get away.

“Damn it..” I swore, backing up a few feet before running forward, using the downed bad guy as a spring board to leap onto the roof of the truck, just as it squealed out of the warehouse.

[Blademaster]

Sweet. Let's give this disaster (My characters, not the RPG) a shot...




Name: None
Alias: Enigma
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Nationality: American
Alignment: Chaotic-Neutral
Powers: Enigma is a shapeshifter, but with a few twists and limitations:
-Enigma cannot replicate living tissue. Too complex. He can only create inanimate forms from himself.
-Provided they stay in contact, Enigma can assume multiple forms at once (i.e., he can form one hand into a sword and the other into a bazooka, etc.)
-Enigma cannot transform every cell in his body, or else he'll be stuck in inanimate form forever.
-In accordance with the law that states matter cannot be created out of nowhere, any projectiles Enigma produces come from his body.
Power Source: Science/Technology
Weaknesses: Electricty scrambles his genetic structure horribly. It can paralyze and even kill him if he is repeatedly bombarded by electrical attacks.
Appearance: His preferred form is a 6', 200 lb. teen with spiky black hair and orange glasses that resemble a visor or a pair of goggles. In what may be an homage or a mockery of Superman, he forms around himself a red spandex bodysuit with blue bands around the shoulders and a blue crotch. Black boots and gloves adorn his feet and hands (respectively).
Personality: Rude, crude, lewd, lazy, and violent. Enigma does what he wants and says what he wants, and any man or law that disagrees with him will likely be met with a "Fuck you." and/or a punch in the face.
Weapons: Whatever his imagination conjures up, and whatever his body can absorb.
History: Enigma started out as an aborted fetus. In the early '00's, underground stem cell researchers salvaged stem cells from whatever sources they could and tried to convert them into Super cells. After countless different experiments, they finally got a successful test subject - Enigma - who was the result of those tests. ALL of them.
Due to his insane genes, Enigma displayed properties of all the elements in his body from the day of his 'birth,' as well as an unfortunate side effect of aging much faster than a normal human. In cliche movie fashion, Enigma got sick of being a guinea pig and broke out of the lab he was held in, seeking to get revenge on all the asshole humans of the world. His first target was a little kid...
For awhile after that, Enigma debated with himself over his actions, before he finally adopted a more antiheroic stance instead of a villianous one. For awhile, he worked solo... Until one day...
Theme(s): Paradise City, by Guns 'N Roses.
Relationships: "Friends" with Ivan
Other: Someone get this guy a better theme. Please. I'm begging you.


Name: Ivan Faust
Alias: None, but many incorrectly assume it to be 'Zandios'
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Nationality: German-American
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Powers: Ivan controls the powers of the dark. Shadow. He can fire concentrated bursts of frigid black energy or use shadows to camouflage himself. His specialty is conjuring microcosmic vacuums that suck the energy out of Ivan's target, reducing it to dust if Ivan draws out all its energy.
Power Source: Magic/Mythological
Weaknesses: Ivan has no notable weaknesses aside from the fact that he is human, and despite his powers and his expertise in fighting, a single well-aimed bullet or car wreck will kill him just as easily as it'd kill you or me.
Appearance: A frightening figure, Ivan stands a towering 7 feet tall and weighs a lean 225 lbs. His hair is black and tied into a shoulder-length ponytail, and his icy blue eyes are hidden behind thin, wire-frame glasses. His entire wardrobe is black: his pants, boots, gloves, and his coat, which stretches down behind him like a cape. Ironically, his hairband and the shirt underneath his coat are pure white.
Personality: Ivan is a cold, silent figure. He pushes away everyone around him, or ignores them entirely. Despite his German descent, he speaks perfect English and has an advanced vocabulary and psyche.
Weapons: Ivan carries a nohinto (a Japanese sword) that's about 5 feet long. It's his primary means of attack and defense.
History: Ivan has led what he calls a 'cursed' life. From the fire that killed his parents when he turned six to the collapse of his orphanage a few years later to the occurrence of Hurricane Katrina on his 18th birthday, in a New Orleans school, he considers himself personally responsible for the death of over 2,500 people to date.
In the aftermath of Katrina, he found a sword amidst the wreckage and enrolled in a dojo, where he repelled everyone around him. After several years of learning to use his sword, a chimera calling itself 'Zandios' visited him in his mind, granting him powers over shadow in exchange for his services against an onslaught of evil creatures threatening the world. He reluctantly agreed, but while the creatures themselves are long gone, Zandios has stayed with Ivan, who has yet to overcome his own demons (and be in an RPG long enough to character develop into something more than an emo prick with a sword). Also, he needs all the power he can get to keep his 'partner' in line...
Theme(s): Destiny, by Stratovarius.
Relationships: Is "friends" with Enigma.
Other: Got kinda lazy with Ivan's profile, sorry. Check the RPG "The Scourge" if you want a better bio of him. Oh, and he's homeless too. Pretty well-maintained for a bum.

------------------------------------------------------

Ivan and Enigma

"DIE, MOTHERFUCKER!"

With that surprisingly unheroic battlecry, the last of the sewer creatures was blown to oblivion by the red-clad teen's weapon, which resembled - of all things - Megaman's Mega Buster.

"Was that truly necessary, Enigma?" an elder voice asked behind him as his gun-hand reverted back to flesh and bone.

"Shut up." Enigma growled. "That walking piece of shit was asking for it."

"Whether or not it instigated your engagement is irrelevant." the voice responded, its owner - a tall (REALLY tall) man dressed entirely in black - stepping forward into the pale light of the post-dusk streetlight. "My point is that that creature was vulnerable enough to eliminate with melee attacks; you did not need to waste your energy on a... What WAS that that you shot it with?"

"A compressed fireball." Enigma replied, a bit proudly. "All it cost me was the air in my lungs and a little blood for fuel."

"That blood keeps you alive, Enigma. Such reckless disregard for your body will inevitably destroy it."

"Shut your fucking mouth, Ivan." Enigma snapped back. "You're not my mother, you know. It was a half a cup of blood. My body'll make more. Calm the fuck down already."

"That half a cup could mean the difference between life and death should you be severely injured in a fight."

"Whatever." Enigma groaned. "I guess you WOULD be the expert on death between the two of us, huh?"

Ivan's features visibly darkened.

"Don't you dare condemn me." he said, his voice dangerously emotionless (even for him). "I'm not the one between us who willingly murdered an innocent child for-"

"FUCK YOU!" Enigma screamed, throwing a punch at Ivan's face; the latter easily dodged it, catching Enigma's fist, and then pulling it towards him. As soon as he felt Enigma was startled and his arm limp, he slammed that fist right back into Enigma's face.

KROMF!

"OUMF!!!" Enigma yelled, his hands cupped over his face. "Mr'erfucker y'r himme innrnose!"

"Learn to control your emotions, Enigma." Ivan said, his almost sinister voice returning to its normal level. "Lest they eventually kill YOU, as well..."

Before Enigma could remove his hands from his bleeding nose and protest further, an explosion from somewhere downtown caught their attention.

"God damn it..." Enigma muttered, sniffing and wiping the blood off his upper lip. "What now?"

"I do not know." Ivan responded, reaching for the sword slung over his shoulder. "But I doubt it is something beneficial to the city."

"Yeah, no shit." Enigma growled, a pair of metallic wings growing from his shoulders, formed from the dense bone matter that would weigh him down in the midst of flight. "Let's go."

Ivan closed his eyes, shadows gathering around his feet.

"ZANDIOS!!!" he yelled to the sky, showing emotion for the first time.

The shadows around his feet erupted upwards, wrapping his body and transforming it, until they finally dissipated to reveal a slightly more muscular Ivan, a pair of grey, angelic wings sprouting from his own shoulders. His eyes opened, a yellow glow eminating from them.

"Lead the way." he growled to Enigma, his voice a bit raspier than it had been before.

The red-clad one nodded, then leapt up into the air, wings beating. Ivan followed suit, like a dark angel. Within seconds, the two were aloft and out of sight...

-------------------------------------

Next.

Oh, yeah, Ivan and Enigma are in the southeastern U.S. at the moment. Not quite in redneck country yet, but they're definitely across the Mason-Dixon line.

OK, NOW next.

[classy_cat18]

Oh, yeah, Ivan and Enigma are in the southeastern U.S. at the moment. Not quite in redneck country yet, but they're definitely across the Mason-Dixon line.

Hey, they're in my neck of the woods! The offline me, that is. I'm okay with it, as long as they lay off the Vulcan statue!

[Blademaster]

Nah, they're further north. Like, Virginia-North Carolina-Maryland. Nothing to worry about.

[Ultimate Charizard]

Name: Selene Richmond (Thats right....a Girl!)
Alias: She doesnt use one
Gender: F
Age: 23
Nationality: British
Alignment: Good but Neutral. Doesnt specifically try to break laws etc but will do whats nessecary.

Powers: Able to create and manipulate a form of energy. She can use this energy as a forcefield however cant focus it into any specific shape and simply generates a Bubble around a fixed point (herself, another person/object etc) By generating the bubble outward and away from her she can also 'float' within the bubble giving the illusion of low level flight. She has practiced using the energy offensively by expelling it at the point of impact from her punches and kicks. She is able to expel short range (1ft at most) concussive plasts.
She has another power that she is totally unaware of. A mild form of psychic ability known as Suggestion. She cant put people in trances or control their mind etc but she can influence their thoughts by words or even looks. Close proximity also triggers the effect. It can be used to her advantage if discovered and trained but at the moment its more that if she wants something she is good at convincing people. It can also cause people to see her slightly differently than she is, perhaps resembling somone else more closely enough to fool people. It doesnt change her features in any way, it simply alters how people perceive her. She has managed to get into a fair number of nightclubs when she was younger without being Id'd etc.

Power Source: Simply a natural mutation she was born with as far as she knows though only discovered when she was caught in a cave in near her family home.

Weaknesses: Any form of Gas attack. She can make her bubble air tight although this will obviously cut off her own air. Also repetitive high impact on the shield can fatigue her. Her latent Psychic ability is useless against anything electronic. Voice/Face recognition systems cant be fooled, and anyone looking at her through a computer screen/over the phone etc though since its a latent talent, she doesnt know these things yet.

Personality: Quite grumpy and a little snobby at times. Its more of a defence to hide her loneliness which she blames on her being different, and nothing at all to do with the fact she doesnt try to make new friends. The few she has are ones she knew from school etc.
Appearance:http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f2...AnimeWoman.jpg
Weapons: none
History: Raised in a quiet country house in Northern England she lived with her parents untill they both fell ill and passd away. She now lives alone with no real outside contact other than occaisional shopping trips and the odd night out to relax with company. She treats herself as an outcast because of her abilities and tries to hide them from everyone, using them only if needed.
Theme(s): Foo Fighters - Pretender
Relationships: none
Other: nope....

----------------

Selene
-------

It had been a long night but surprisingly enjoyable. She stopped for a moment to readjust her shoes which were once again beginning to rub her ankle. She wasnt sure why she had decided to get out of the cab and walk the rest of the way home though she wasnt regretting the decision. The cool summer night air was refreshing after the dark, sweaty nightclubs her friends had insisted on trying. It had been a while since she had met up with her friends for a night out and it was places like that which reminded her why. She had fended off the advances of at least half a dozen men, or rather drunken apes with all the charm of a soggy pot-noodle.
Still she was with the few friends she had and they when they are as determined to have fun as they are very little can stop them and she demurely burped, indicating the end of the free burger she had managed to get from the guy at the take-away counter. She had only meant the suggestion as a joke but he seemed to take it seriously and was happy to give away a freebie. She shrugged at her good fortune as she turned onto the quiet lane up to her house. It seemed forboding in the early morning light, a glance at her watch told her it was pushing 4am, and she considered that it was possibly a little large for someone living alone. The thought to call the girls to continue the party here crossed her mind but she knew they would be home, probably asleep or just plain passed out by now.

She stopped, looking up thinking she had seen something from the corner of her eye but when she couldnt see anything around she shrugged and moved upto the front door, unlocking and entering. As she reached up for the light switch, certain she would struggle to find the lock again in the dark she again glimpsed something, a flash of light on the doorframe, showing her silouhette, as if something shone on her from behind. Before she could turn however something grabbed her, a hand over her mouth and an arm at her waist, lifting her from the floor. She fought hard but the hands were strong and resisted her, the ability to scream muffled by the hand though she knew that noone lived within a half a mile.

"Settle down and you wont get hurt" a deep voice growled behind her as she was dragged into the living room. Selene coughed a little, the vapours of her own alcohol infused breath catching in her nose.
"Just take whatever you want and leave me alone" she said bluntly, her panic turning to anger. She was a wealthy woman and everything in the house was replaceable, merely possesions. If it would get this intruder out of her house she didnt care.

"Whatever i want huh?" asked the voice, a sinister humour in its tone as the arm around her waist tightened and Selenes eyes widened. That was enough. She hated acknowledging her ability, her curse, but this asshole had officially pushed too far.

She sighed as she concentrated. "You had your chance" she said softly and a rippling pulse of translucent green energy expanded around her. The arms around her were both forced away with such speed she thought she heard something crack. Indeed she would have also heard the intruder screaming if he hadnt been pushed away so forcefully and with such speed that he smashed straight through the large patio window that dominated the south side of the living room, and flew off into the night sky. Landing in a field roughly 150 yards from the house. Selene fumed. Tempted to go after him and teach him more of a lesson but instead went to the phone, collected herself and callled the police.

2 hours later and the Police were leaving. They had taken a statement, the councellor had commended how brave she was being after her home had been 'violated' and the intruder had been found, still lying unconcious and carted off to the police station. Selene had told the police she had startled him as she entered and he had smashed his way out of the window. Why he had been found unconcious she couldnt explain but thankfully they didnt attribute that to her.

As the police cars finally left she decided to head in and finally get some sleep. When she woke she would organise the repairs to the window and she thought to herself that perhaps this would be a good time to take a trip while the work was done. The groundskeeper would be able to sort the details with them and it had been a while since she had used her New York Appartment. Perhaps a shopping trip would do her good.....

---------------------

Hows that then?

[Houndoom_Lover]

(That was good! ^.^)



Nazerith took to the sky with a great ease, as though he should have just been born up there, the monstrosity pumped his wings to go up higher, so that he could disappear in the low hanging clouds while still see the city down below. Bustling New York City. What a place. So many artist, so much crime!

But where should he stop first? Go see the street performers, or perhaps to the local jailery, where the criminals where held for a brief time then released- Pfft. Pithic. Kill them. Kill them all so they didn't have a chance for their filth to spread...Decisions, decisions. He wasn't sure just yet where he wanted to go, but the wet spray of the cloud felt nice all over his un-genderized body.

That's it! He'd perch on top of building and swoop down periodically and demand an art toll! What genius! This act, this seer awesomeness would be called- He swooped down through the clouds briefly in glee. What a clever form of art he made! He just needed a name! What to call it? What to call it?!

Justice?

No, too stern. Not yet. How about Moving Train? Oh yes, he liked that one very much so. Now...Where should be begin?

[Drusilla]

Name: Unknown
Alias: Poltergeist
Gender: Female
Age: Suspected to be late 20s
Nationality: Unknown; has shown the ability to speak several languages fluently, though if this is because of her past or her psychic talents is unknown.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, leaning towards evil. She likes things that go boom. *cackles maniacally*
Powers: Mild telepathy, but her talent lies in telekinesis, phasing, and minor alterations to her appearance (ie, hair color, eye color, ect.).
Power Source: Some suspect she is an experiment gone wrong, hence her lack of identity or past; if you asked her, perhaps she would say that she was divine, but who can take the word of the insane?
Weaknesses: She cannot phase through water or wet ground. Both strong shadow and strong divine magic can disrupt the use of her powers.
Personality: Absolutely dark, twisted, and insane. She loves nothing more than panic; the bigger, the better. There is little rhyme or reason with her actions, however some suspect that she has some deep, dark secret that motivates her. Whether or not this is true remains to be seen...
Appearance: Here
Weapons: Assorted blades hidden on her person; she is also very accomplished with martial arts.
History: Mostly unknown. She just appeared one day; despite the best efforts of law enforcement, no ID has ever been found to match her. DNA, fingerprints, and photo matching all come back empty.
Theme(s): Lucretia My Reflection, Sisters of Mercy
Blonde With Lobotomy Eyes, My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult
Relationships: None at the moment; she will, however, join forces with anyone looking to stir up trouble.
Other:

Will post soon, possibly tomorrow... Drusie's not feeling well, and is braindead. I will probably have Poltergeist screwing around in New York, to connect to the radio blurb from Heald's post.

[Roy Karrde]

Jason Landrew
~~~[Sentinel | 6:20 PM at Night | Arizona ] ~~~~

I gave out a shrill scream, something that was entirely not manly as I grasped the edge of the truck, using my sword to dig into the side of the vehicle as something to grasp onto as the wind threatened to rip me from it.

Truth be told I hadn’t thought this thing through, I had only two weeks of driving experience in my driver’s education class, and in that two weeks I was never instructed on how to drive such a large truck. Of course I had to get a hold of the truck first.

“Okay one step at a time.” I grumbled, pulling out my second sword and swung forward, lodging it further in the truck. I dislodged the first sword and pulled my self up with the second sword, slowly making progress as wind whipped by, always threatening to rip me free from the truck.

“Almost…” I pulled myself up one last time and found myself just above the cab of the truck. Sheathing both swords I slowly moved to where I was laying flat against the top of the cab with my body angled toward the window. With one fluid motion I gripped the top of the window and flipped over, sending my body crashing through and into the cab feet first, knocking the driver into the passenger seat, and the passenger out the side door.

“I really don’t know how to drive so..” I grinded my teeth together, my hands jerking the wheel back and forth as I tried to stabilize the large truck, which really seemed to just cause the entire vehicle drive further out of control.

Out of the corner of my eye the driver’s hand slowly began to move toward a handgun at the bottom of the floor. “so don’tshootme!” I screamed, my words running together as I jerked the truck a hard left, the weight all sliding toward one side and sending the vehicle tipping over it’s side and barrel rolling down the street.

As the entire vehicle began to roll down the road, I did the one thing that I knew would save my life, I took my hands off the wheel and concentrated as hard as I could to keep my body stuck firmly into the chair. The driver on the other hand, had no such power, and ended up rolling around the cab, slamming into everything from the ceiling to the floor, until the entire vehicle came to a rest upside down, bullets and guns sprayed all down the street after having come loose from the boxes.

With a light groan I pulled myself from the truck and dusted myself off. “I told you I couldn’t drive.” I spat back at the cab in anger as the sound of police cars traveling my way reached my ears.

“Okay..” I gulped down the need to vomit, jumping off the road and into the safety of the tree line. “I think that’s enough crime fighting for tonight..” I mumbled, taking a few more steps as another wave of nausea returned. “Or maybe for a week.”

[MToolen]

Name: Patrick Langham

Alias: Resonance

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Nationality: American

Alignment: more towards good and more towards lawful

Powers: Resonance can amplify sounds to extreme levels; this is usually manifested in controlled, focused "pockets" of sound that have a concussive force

Power Source: A very sensitive yet powerful geological cousin to adamantium, "euphontium," makes up his vocal cords, which are spliced on and connected, by said metal, from his trachea through his shoulders to his palms.

Weaknesses: Resonance's powers only work from his vocal cords; when muzzled, he is useless. Also, he is a passive-aggressive hothead, very prone to getting into trouble.

Personality: As earlier mentioned, Resonance can be somewhat of a jerk. He is imprinted with the Puritan work ethic (the best thing one can do to be a good person is to do his share) and demeans those who he deems are not living up to such a standard. He is in this respect, though, a hard and diligent worker who knows his place (even if he thinks he also knows others' places). Work is his life; outside his tasks, he makes little room for friends or free time, save the occasional card game.

Appearance: Patrick is a plainclothes hero; he wears tattered khaki pants and an oversize yet thin forest green leather jacket with a light brown undershirt that used to be white. A dusty fedora adorns his short, trimmed black hair and hides his leathery complexion, clean shaven face, and fuzzy brown eyes. Black hiking boots match a thick black belt and fingerless leather gloves. Physically, he has nimble fingers and small feet; his most distinguishing trait, though, is the presence of metal on and under his skin, showing prominently on his throat and palms.

Weapons: Resonance sometimes uses other pieces of metal he finds lying around to aid in, well, resonance. Otherwise, his cupped hands provide his voice with the perfect outlet.

History: Patrick's father was a super who dodged his draft with the Patriot Program, opting to live his days out on the nation's ever-fading railways. He only settled down once, conceiving a child and heading out before his progeny could hardly walk. It is said, however, that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree: after a horrible accident that left him scarred in a straight line with multiple broken bones, Patrick was subjected to a cutting-edge procedure replacing the crushed body parts with euphontium. Within hours of the procedure, Patrick was walking the rails himself, hoping to find his long-missing father.

Theme(s): "City of New Orleans" - Arlo Guthrie

Relationships: As mentioned, son of draft-dodging super; identity, powers, and whereabouts all unknown

Other: In vocal range, Resonance is really more of a bass-baritone, with a range from B-flat 1 to D 4.

[Resonance]
The sound of metal on rails lessened as the last caboose escaped around a corner from view. A funnel of black smoke was still visible over the tall Oregon pines glistening in the sunset's various warm hues. And one man could be seen following that obsidian trail. His boots kicked the small gravel that had accumulated under the pine planks of railroad. It would be a hobo's dream were it not for the heightened security on the trains nowadays. Patrick had almost gotten past his usual two stops when the conductor found him and kicked him off on the spot. Granted, he was found in a grain car, but the promptness of the conductor was almost overbearing.

In any case, Patrick was now on his way down the tracks. Even if he wasn't on the train, the rails would guide him where he needed to go. That is, they would had they not carried another steel behemoth closing in on him from behind. Unlike the streamlined freight train ahead, this locomotive was an old-fashioned train plowing towards him.

The train's whistle caught Patrick's attention. By his figuring, it would crash into the one ahead of it within five minutes. While it seems like ages in the movies, it was not much time- action must be taken.

The procedure was nothing new to the man known to many as Resonance, the plainclothes super of the rails. Turning around, he gripped each rail and began warming his voice up, a Duke Ellington classic...

As I walk down the street, seems ev'ryone I meet gives me a friendly hello...

His voice warmed up, he made a sudden dynamic shift on the highest note: "I guess I'm just a lucky so-and-so..." On that change, his voice, as his name suggested, resonated from his throat through his arms and into the rails in the direction of the oncoming train. The idea was to gently derail it; that would buy enough time to avoid a crash.

The resonance could be seen running down the rails and, as it flung the machine a few inches into the air, it seemed to be working according to plan. Working, that is, until the train finished its hop over the resonance and began toppling onto the track at greater speed, as if having gone down a hill.

By now the cheerful song had died out in Resonance's mind; quickly, he put his hands together and cupped them towards the speeding locomotive in front of him. "Stop!" he yelled, sending a bubble of sorts of sound straight into the front of the train.

A few seconds passed before the train's conductor heard the "Stop!" and he had time to react before running over what looked to be just another dumb hobo, albeit with shiny palms and throat. As the train let off its steam pressure, the conductor scurried out but could not catch up to Resonance, who had already run ahead to the freight train.

Hopefully, Resonance thought as he grabbed a rail on the back of the caboose, I won't get caught this time.

Sorry for posting so late. My keyboard's been giving me a mess of trouble. It decided to be nice tonight, though.

[Prof. Jb Wolf]

Name: Simon Kell
Alias: Psion formerly Psi Lad
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Nationality: American
Alignment: Neutral Good

Powers: Tactile Telekinesis (TTK). Simon's body is surrounded by a telekinetic field that allows him to a number of things including granting him "super" strength, practical invulnerability, and flight. This is all achieved by exerting his field upon an object and on his own body in order to achieve the desired result. He must also be touching the object if it's not his own body, though if the object's that come into contact through outside force are also repelled. He can also force his field into machinery to break it apart or hold it together for as long as he can concentrate on and touch it. This also allows him to force the field between aggregate solid masses (such as sand) or a solid mass that has been splintered (like cracked concrete) causing it to 'explode' in a forceful manner. The protection of his field also can be extend to those he touches.

Power Source: Psionic

Weaknesses: Though he's trained extensively with his powers, Simon is far from completely mastering his TTK field. For instance, while he can affect solids and most liquids, he is unable to affect gas as he cannot truly 'touch' it. As well, he is quite susceptible to energy attack as he has not yet learned to how to complete diffuse them along his TTK field. It is also completely useless if he is not concious.

Appearance: Simon is about 5'9" with a muscled, athletic build. His bluish-black hair is short and usually somewhat messy. His eyes are a dark shade of violet and seem to glow with a muted light when he's agitated, an aftereffect of the accident that gave him his powers. Usually wears some combination of leather biker jacket, jeans, and t-shirt when not fighting crime.

His 'uniform' consists of a dark purple-black, sleeveless body suit, a short-sleeved brown jacket, fingerless gloves, and boots. To hide his identity, he wears a mask that covers his ears, back of his head, and forehead but leaves hair free flowing and a pair of red-tinted goggles.
Personality: Easy going and down-to-earth, Simon is a very likable person. Chivalrous in a time where chivalry is often forgotten, he always keeps his word and is honorable to a fault. While not a truly reckless man, he will not hesitate to jump into danger to save innocent lives or fight for justice. Within him burns a fierce determination and will, but he knows its better to temper it with common sense and thought.

Weapons: Simon keeps his body in peak condition and was formally trained in hand-to-hand combat by his Super mentor.

History: Parents were a pair of scientists, particularly interested in the brain and psychic-powered Supers. They were joined by a third scientist, who eventually turned on them, killing them both to take the fruits of their research - the Psi-Tuner, a device that awakened latent psychic powers. While using the device on himself, a grief-stricken ten-year old Simon, who had been visiting his parents when their partner murdered them, attacked the scientist, inadvertently causing the Psi-Tuner to overload. Caught in the psychic backlash, the scientist went utterly mad as the power filled him, becoming a supervillain known as Doctor Psyker, while Simon's own powers awakened. Psyker fled the lab, leaving Simon to mourn his parents. A passing Super, having felt the backlash from the Psi-Tuner overload, came to investigate. Calling himself the Amethyst Prophet, he too was psionic powered and immediately could feel the effects the Psi-Tuner had on Simon. Taking the orphaned Simon in, he trained him to both master his powers and to temper his feelings. Eventually he became Psi Lad, the Prophet's sidekick, but his desire for vengeance still burned within him. Eventually Doctor Psyker reemerged into the public spotlight and Simon jumped at his chance. He attacked him headlong, but Psyker's powers were too great and soon he had Simon at his mercy. As he prepared to deal the finishing blow, the Prophet appeared, taking the blow for him. Seeing his second father figure fall, Simon went into a rage, causing his powers to surge as he launched himself at Psyker again to beat him to death. Before he could slay the demented doctor, the dying Prophet attempted to calm him.

"A true hero must control his anger, lest it turn to hatred. Hatred will only lead to more hatred and more evil. He must not fight for vengeance, but for justice, to not give in to selfish desire, but stand as an ideal for good."

His words reached Simon, and he instead turned over Doctor Psyker to the police. He also laid to rest his beloved mentor, swearing at his and the grave of his parents to never waver and become a true hero.

Theme(s): Relient K - More Than Useless
Dakota Star - Regret
Relationships: Though his master is dead and gone, the Amethyst Prophet still shows up from time to time as a psychic 'ghost', appearing to Simon in times of turmoil and stress to give advice.
Other: BOOOOM!

TPM Comics Presents
THE ASTOUNDING PSION
Issue #13 - Psychics and Sirens

Rooftops and supers seem to have a very special relationship.

Every kid has seen an old film or docudrama on Supers. Almost every single one of them started with them standing on a rooftop, silhouetted by moon or sun. All the old comics depicted heroes appearing on the scene from the rooftop in a dramatic entrance. Even when Prophet took me under his wing, I noticed he too like to make his entrances from a rooftop or at least from as high as possible. Maybe it had something to do with the imagery of saviors from above. Of guardian angels sent from some realm to protect innocents and victims. Practically speaking, being so high up gives you a great vantage point as well helps you tune out useless noise.

Plus - you get great reception.

~Robbery in progress on Thirteenth street. Hostiles are heavily armed and dangerous. Officers on scene requesting back up.~

I pocketed my cell phone as I stepped towards the edge of the roof. It was amazing what you could do with technology today, like modifying a cell phone radiot to pick up police signals. Grinning, I put a foot on the ledge and settle my goggles over my eyes. "Showtime."

With a leap, I take to the sky, soaring high above the city streets. The sound of sirens grow louder and soon I pass the police cruisers headed towards the scene. I was soon past them and cutting across rooftops and threading through buildings I came upon the scene.

Three police cars were sided to side, forming a barrier for the cops as they fired back at the bank robbers. There were four of them total, each apparently armed with what looked like assault rifles. Three of them were firing madly at the pinned cops while the fourth piled money into their getaway car. Swooping down I tackled one of the robbers sending him crashing into the far wall.

Landing on my feet, I was immediately met with a volley of gunfire from the other two robbers. Grunting as the bullets struck my TKK field, I calmly walked towards the nearest robber. As I came within an arm's reach of him, I heard the 'click click click' of an empty cartridge. Smirking I grabbed the barrel of his gun. "My turn." Striking out with an open palm, I sent him hurtling through the air to slam into one of the police cars.

Still holding the rifle, I dismantled with a thought. Keeping a hold of a piece of it as it dropped, I threw it at the last armed robber who was attempting to reload as well. The piece caught him full in the face, the force of the my TTK-enhanced throw breaking his nose with a quiet, but audible 'crack'. As he clutched at his face in pain, one of the officers tackled him to the ground and handcuffed him.

The sound of screeching tires filled the air as the last bank robber took off down the street in his car. "Oh no you don't." Taking to the air I zipped through the city sky after the speeding car. Swooping easily over all obstacles, I was soon flying right on top of the car. Diving down I landed on the roof and barely got a hand hold as the robber veered sharply to throw me off.

Grabbing onto the lip of the car's roof, I swung down, putting up my TTK field as I smashed through the passenger side window. My feet caught the driver on the side of the head, causing the car to turn sharply and slam into a nearby tree lining the sidewalk. The robber banged his head against the wheel while my field took the brunt of the impact. Shaking my head I checked the robber's pulse and was relieved to find he was unconcious but alive. Opening the passenger side door, I stepped out and grabbed the bottom of the car. Grunting I heaved the car up and took off back to the police to deposit him.

Not a bad way to start an evening.

[Blademaster]

Just for the sake of clarity, maybe we should all start including our locations at the start of our posts...? For the time being, most of us are isolated; it'd be nice to know who's close enough for us to start interacting with until Heald gives us a group objective.

[Ultimate Charizard]

Yeah i was thinking that but with so many saying their in New York i decided to head that way. Of course planes can be diverted

Oh and MToolen, if you dont want people to read your post, dont post it. Having to highlight your post just to fricken read it is annoying. It doesnt make you cool, it just makes you inconsiderate to other posters.

[classy_cat18]

I only know of two that were in New York City. I figured that it was good that we were scattered. Oh well. Nia's in Seattle.

[Heald]

I had actually typed out half of a plot progression post yesterday, but then Firefox crashed and I lost it all. I'm too busy now and tomorrow so I'll get it done on Friday. See you later people. As a clue, most of the plot will happen in North America, so if you're not there, start thinking of why you may need to travel there.

[Blademaster]

Oh and MToolen, if you dont want people to read your post, dont post it. Having to highlight your post just to fricken read it is annoying. It doesnt make you cool, it just makes you inconsiderate to other posters.

Dude, calm down. I can read his post just fine. It's no less legible than mine.

[Houndoom_Lover]

(Well, assuming we all read each others post, 'cause you know- we can read...Most of us have where we are. But putting at the start is a good idea until we're all together. I'm in New York. Mayhapse we wait objective?)

[Ultimate Charizard]

Dude, calm down. I can read his post just fine. It's no less legible than mine.

Well maybe were using different skins or something (didnt even know TPM had those) cos Black writing on a Black background isnt legible to me. Untill i highlight the entire post i just see an empty black box.

[Blademaster]

...?

Weird. I see dark green...

[Prof. Jb Wolf]

I was trying to be particularly vague as to the location of Simon's city so as to better facilitate relations. I guess I'll have it be San Francisco in California.

[Houndoom_Lover]

Yeah, I see dark green too ^_^

[Bulbasaur4]

< Yeah, Blood or Shengmingli is in China... but I said that there were 'rumors' about so anyone can feel free to venture there. Nuanica is in Chicago, but I can easily just "say" she's in New York city if that would make things easier. Guess we'll see what Heald says. ^_^ >

[MToolen]

Patrick was in Oregon... it's in that post somewhere... but I'm not sure if I want to go north to Nia or south to Simon. Heh, that's neat. In any case, he's on a train, so he'll get... somewhere... eventually. And in white text just to keep everybody happy; I'm not that hard of a man to please.

[Houndoom_Lover]

(I use white because I'm lazy. I tried using red buy I got bitched at ^__^.)

[MToolen]

[Resonance|11:15am|San Fransisco]
The rhythm of the rails came to a screeching halt, awaking the train's unwanted passengers as forcefully as those who had their tickets ready for the conductor. Even though there was no speaker in the darkened freight car in the back of the train, Patrick could make out the conductor's words:

"Once again, have your tickets ready for exit into the city of San Fransisco. Thank you once again for riding-"

At this moment, a loud shifting noise came from the door and, as it opened, light poured into the car and right onto Patrick's arm which was shielding his face. It took a bit for his eyes to adjust, but his ears caught the presence of railroad personnel ahead of time anyway. Thus, his first real glimpse of the outside was not at the men coming toward him but past them, trying to see what else was going on outside. Not much was out of the norm, just a few people walking down the street, one carrying a car...

A car?

Patrick figured that such a super may have seen or at least heard of his father. Putting his hands together once more, he sent a ball of sound at each guard with the phrase, "Outta my way!" just enough to stun them as he made his escape. The guards were easy picking; it was the car-carrying man he wanted.

[Just thought I'd keep this story alive and not just the metaspeak. Oh teh noes character interaction.]

[Ultimate Charizard]

Selene Richmond - New York City
-----------------

She looked out of the Limousine window as they passed the front of the building. The Richmond was one of the classiest hotels in the city and the chain was where the bulk of her families wealth had come from. Her New York appartment as she reffered to it was actually the private suite reserved solely for her family.
The long black Limousine turned off from the rain soaked street and under the canopy of the entrance driveway. She watched idly as the bellboys moved to grab her luggage from the boot and the doorman approached to let her out of the car. She sighed and grabbed the handle, letting herself out before he had made it halfway. She had always hated the special treatment money brought. She figured thats why she still went out to the Dives with her friends back home, where the normal people went instead of the upper class clubs with their exlusive guest lists. She felt a faint blush of hypocrisy however as she walked towards the door of her own high class hotel, letting a couple of part time kids carry her bags.

She approached the front desk, nodding to George the doorman on the way in who smiled back and tipped his hat. He had actually been working at this hotel longer than she had been alive and he had never once asked for promotion. Said he preffered the door because he got to meet so many interesting people.
She looked around hoping that the desk had some new staff, she always liked to tease the new guys who werent aware that she was the owner. Unfortunately it seemed word of her arrival had spread and Francois was on the counter. She groaned beneath her breath knowing what a proffessional fake, and ass kisser the hotel manager was. He was a good manager she had to admit but he was known for his background role, he definitely never worked the desk.
"Good morning Madame, how good it is to see you again" he beamed in a tacky french accent.

She smiled back, hoping she didnt appear as fake as he did. "Morning Francois" she said putting a little emphasis on his name and he glanced around a little nervously. Noone on the staff knew he wasnt really French. His name wasnt even Francois, it was Frank, and he was from Brooklyn.
"Ill be taking the Richmond suite" she said as she came to a stop, waiting for him to hand her the key.
"Of course Madame" he said as he turned back to face her, handing the key over "All is ready for you and your guest is already upstairs waiting"
She had started to walk towards the elevator but she stopped in her tracks. "What guest?"

Francois gulped nervously. "Mr Dorn, he said you asked him to come, he gave me this".
He waved a piece of paper in his hands which she took and read. It was a letter, typed and with the formal stamp of her family. She couldnt blame Francois, if she hadnt knowm better she would have been convinced she had written it too. She looked at the name. 'Dorn'. It sounded familiar and againt her better judgement decided to find out what was going on personally.
"Of course Francois, how forgetfull of me" she lied and watched her Hotal Manager stop sweating quite so profusely. "Ill head up right away, wouldnt want to keep him waiting."

Selene stepped out of the elavator with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. She wasnt happy about finding strange men in her home twice in as many days but this time it was different. This wasnt some opportunistic burglar, this 'Mr Dorn' had gone to great lengths to become her guest as Francois had put it and he wasnt hiding his presence either. He had actually instructed whoever was on the desk to let her know he was here.
She stopped just outside her suite, hoping to calm herself but the bellboy accompanying her must have taken it as a sign for him to open the door. Before she could stop him he had pushed open the door and entered with her cases. She stepped in behind him, her eyes instantly locking on those of a short balding man, currently sitting in her favourite armchair with a glass of what she assumed was her whiskey in his hand.
She never looked away, even as she paid the Bellboy his tip and closed the door behind him.

"Ah Miss Richmond" he said loud and brash "Im so glad we could meet again after all this time". Selene's mind raced. She knew the name was familiar but she couldnt place it, she certainly didnt recognise this man.
"Im sorry if you dont remember me" he said, preempting the question, "I was a friend of your Fathers, you havent seen me since you were just a child"
She tensed at the mention of her father. It was him that had built this empire all those years ago. He had become the talk of all the financial institutions. How he had gone from destitute to rich and powerfull in such a short space of time. Then he had simply vanished when she was still young. With no trace ever found.
"So to what do i owe the pleasure of this visit after such a long time?" she asked, trying to put confidence in her voice without being defensive.

"How much did you learn about your father?" he asked taking a sip of his whiskey. Her defiance cut short as the conversation went in a direction she wasnt expecting. Blackmail, a takeover, a rival hotelier, she was prepared for these things and had gone over each in her mind during the ride in the elevator but he seemed more focussed on her father.
"I assume you did all the research. Read all the old newspapers. We know you invested a sizeable amount of resources in trying to find him"

"And just who is we?" she snapped at him, fuming over his boldness and apparent knowledge.
"Lets just say we are a group of interested parties" he shrugged dismissively. "Did you know anything of your father before the millions. Im sure you knew he was broke, a down and out and all the rest but did you ever find anything out about his rise to power, how he suddenly came into some money and invested well"
She nodded slowly, unsure of where it was going.
"Your father had a gift my dear" he said, a knowing look on his face. "but he was wasting it. He was a gambler, the worst kind too, the kind that never knew when to quit. Thats why he was destitute." He swirled the ice in his drink as he spoke to emphasise his next point. "We helped him realise his gift, myself and the other 'interested parties', helped him focus"

"What sort of gift are talking about exactly?" she asked losing patience but afraid she already knew the answer.
"A gift just like yours" he said bluntly, staring her straight in the eye. "I dont mean those pretty bubbles you make, those are from your mothers side apparently, great display with that burglar yesterday by the way" he said as all the colour drained from her face. How did he know so much?
"No i mean the other gift. The one you dont even know about. You, like your father have a much more subtle gift." Selene backed away, sitting on the step just behind her struggling to take in the fact that there were people out there that knew she was a freak and not only that also had her family history on file.
"He was what we called a 'pre-cog'" Dorn continued "meaning he could see things before they happen. Just a few minutes ahead though so where he wasted his efforts betting on sporting events which took hours to get a result we found he had much more success playing Poker or Roulette. The quicker the game the more success he had."

Selene's head was ready to pop. She imagined how much further she could throw him through a window being so high up while he simply continued talking.
"Your power, as far as we can tell is if anything, even subtler. Have you ever found yourself getting something your own way, no matter how unlikely?" he asked and it took a moment for her to realise he was waiting for a response. Her mind went back to the take away the other night, and at least a dozen times before that when buying cars or trying to get into clubs. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

"As we thought" he smiled nodding "your a 'suggester', not as fancy sounding as 'pre-cog' but the name implies the meaning. Your able to implant suggestions in other peoples heads, altering their perception or their natural disposition"
He moved over to crouch in front of her.
"You remember when you were 16? It was your friends 18th birthday but you couldnt get in anywhere because you couldnt pass as being 18 yourself" She began shaking her head, she remembered the night and when she thought about it she knew what he was going to say but she hated that he knew so much about her.
"You were so upset and guilty about ruining your friends night that you promised them you would get them into the most exclusive club in town. You were so determined to get in, and beleived it so much that your ability came into play. Do you remember how easily you got in, the bouncer didnt even think twice because he only saw a group of girls who were at least 20"

"So what" Selene finally burst "why tell me all this now, what is it you want from me?"

He smiled, almost warmly, finishing his drink. "Only that we wish to help you as we did your father, to help focus you and the first step on that path is to know you even have a gift"
She sobbed as she felt some defiance return. "And if i refuse to be 'focussed'?"

He smiled again, patted her on the shoulder and headed for the door. "Lets hope it doesnt come to that" he said softly and she heard the door click closed behind her.

[Dr.McNinja]

A little late but better late than never!

Location: Los Angelas

Time to get to work.

The robbers were spilling out of the bank, four of them in ski masks and waving Uzis or Mac 10s or whatever small, automatic weapon was popular this week. They pilled into the car, the wheels screeching their rubber against the asphalt, taking twice as long to start moving as it would have had they just drive normally. Chaotix chuckled from his perch on the Seven Eleven barely a hundred yards down the street, they had to be from out of town otherwise they’d know better than to try this shit in his town. The car was twenty yards away when he threw himself from the building, his eyes coming to life with the static sparkle that heralded his powers. In his mind he focused solely on his intention.

Stop them, stop them, stop them…oh…and let me survive the fall.

He felt his body tingle and suddenly grow….tougher…right before his fall suddenly accelerated to almost three times his original speed. He crashed through the car’s hood, driving the engine down into the asphalt where it screeched and died, even as the car’s forward progress came to a sudden and abrupt halt. Airbags and screamed curses escaped the car in the second after impact followed by a second of silence before the doors of the car flew open and two figures stumbled out.

Two of them unconscious then…they weren’t going fast enough to be killed by an impact like that.

Leaping out of the hole he had created in the car’s hood, Chaotix thrust his hand out towards the front passenger that had escaped the car.

Unconcious, now

He felt his hand clench into a fist right before his mind reached out and yanked the man at him at terrible speed. The man’s solar plexus slammed into his fist and both breath and conciousness left the robber as Chaotix let him fall of his fist to the ground. As he did another thought flashed through his head.

Bullets, stop them

At the corner a man tripped suddenly as he tried to shove closer, his laptop case flying through the air to intercept the hail of bullets that the driver sent Chaotix’s way. The metal of the laptop caught or deflected all of them before falling to the ground in a mangled mess. Chaotix winced a bit at the man’s luck before turning to the robber who starred disbelieving at his empty gun.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

The robber squinted at him, his mind tumbling over the question as he frantically tried to think of a way to escape this situation, “A….a what? You’ve got a fucking question?””

Adjusting his gloves slightly, Chaotix nodded, “It’s pretty simple. What do you think the chances are that a semi falls out of the sky right now and hits you before you can reload that gun and shoot me?”

The robber shook his head, his look clearly showing his opinion of Chaotix at the moment. Seeing the hero make no move, the robber suddenly smiled and reached behind him, pulling a 9mm from the back of his pants and leveling it at the hero, “Not a fucking chance man!”

Just don’t kill him…


~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Chaotix left the scene he had no choice but to shrug. The lucky bastard had been right…and even as the sperm whale that had fallen from the sky to land on the poor fellow improbably vanished to reveal the groaning robber, even Chaotix had to applaud fate.

Twenty minutes later however, his good cheer had vanished. Sure the bank robbery had been the most exciting thing he had had happen the past month but…a few thugs with guns? That was what he was going to spend his life doing. What a waste of time. He wished something, anything would happen to get him out of this drudgery of heroism.

Something inside of him, some part of his subconscious that was used to acting on such wishes reached out and took control what at that moment. For a instant his powers surged, for the instant before the rest of his subconscious re-took control that would have never been lost had the hero not been so distracted the rules of probability fluctuated. It only took an instant however, and for several instants after that first Chaotix found himself staring in disbelief at the small asian girl standing before him, her red kimono stained and dirtied.

[Dr.McNinja]

Double posts FTW!

[Heald]

Plot progression!

Jaecar Mikitenko

Location: Siberia

Jaecar faced out to the cold, harsh wilderness. The helicopter was hovering a few thousand feet above the ground, and he stood on the hatch. His orders had been explained to him as the service crew on the helicopter replaced his outdated armour and weapons, and even the jets in his boots: find out the developments at the installation, and recover any survivors. The commander called to him.
“Remember, we will not return for you until you activate that beacon,” he said, referring to the homing beacon placed on his hip. He nodded and then leapt into the air, activating his jets before he reached terminal velocity. He noticed the difference immediately; although he hadn’t flown for many years, he had reached what had been his previous top speed within seconds and was still accelerating. He had to slow down to maintain control, as he was not used to flying at such high speeds. Once regaining control, he headed towards the base.

He landed in a vehicle yard. There was no sign of life. The wind blew against his coat violently; there was something eerie about the situation. He saw a jet fighter had been overturned. He went over to it and lifted up the main body of the jet, summoning his strength. Underneath it was a crushed, mutilated corpse of a soldier. He gasped and dropped the jet. So something had attacked these men. He turned around and was surprised to see a figure had emerged from out of nowhere. It was a man dressed in a commanding officers uniform, but he had several lacerations across his face. Jaecar began walking towards him.
“Are you okay? What happened here?”
The figure was startled.
“Don’t come closer! I’m warning you!” he screamed in an inhuman voice. Jaecar was beginning to feel uncomfortable. This was definitely stranger than anything he had seen in his day. He kept walking, but prepared his flamethrower. The figure screamed and a black tentacle ripped out of his arm, reaching for Jaecar.

Jaecar sidestepped it and set his flamethrower on it, burning off the end of the tentacle. The figure screamed and retracted the tentacle, and then his entire body ripped apart. The beast now standing in front of his was like nothing he had ever seen: completely jet black skin, like it was covered in oil, and red eyes pierced into Jaecar’s own eyes. He opened his mouth to reveal many sharp fangs and a long, alien tongue licked them pensively. It all began to make sense: whatever this thing was, it was responsible for the deaths of all the people in this base. Jaecar charged up his jets and flew towards the alien at full pelt: he connected with his shoulder into the alien’s abdomen and carried on straight into a large, old brick building, smashing straight through the wall. The alien lay stunned by this attack and Jaecar stood up. Plaster, brick and rubble began falling from above and he looked up: the building was about to collapse! Jaecar quickly flew out the same hole in the wall and landed, turning around just in time to watch the roof cave in, bringing down a great portion of the wall with it. The alien must’ve been crushed by that. He sighed, and was about to activate his beacon when he noticed an objecting burrowing towards him in the snow. He quickly activated his flamer, pointing his arm towards the snow and blasted it. The snow melted, but the alien leapt out of the way and was now in close combat range. Jaecar lifted his arm to attack him, but the alien lifted up an arm, now in the shape of a sharp blade, and then with lightning speed ripped through Jaecar’s lower arm. Jaecar yelled in pain and watched as his arm rolled down into the snow. Blood and petrol began to pour from his right arm, but he turned to the alien, who was now appearing to smile evilly at the disarmed Jaecar. Jaecar summoned up all his rage, yelled and, aiming his left arm point blank at the alien, let out an almighty blast of fire. He proceeded to empty most of his tank in this one attack, the arc extending to a hundred metres in length and twenty metres at its widest.

After thirty seconds of this, Jaecar relinquished his attack and fell to his knees, panting. He covered what was left of his right arm in his coat and fell on his left arm. He looked up and could not see any remains of his foe. He rolled over onto his side and activated the homing beacon. As he began to phase out of unconsciousness, he saw a black object in the sky, with broad wings, flying out towards the east, and then passed out.

---

Okay guys, about 12 hours after these events, you're going to hear of a violent incident at the Canadian/Washington State border if you get anywhere near a radio or television, and a few seconds of CCTV footage of a strange beast attacking the US border control station.

[classy_cat18]

Nia Windfall ~ Seattle area

"This just in..."

I groaned in frustration as I heard the radio clock alarm unleash my wake-up call. I stayed still until the voice got so loud it almost hurt my ears.

"On the U.S./Canada border--" That was as far as it got before I slammed my hand on the Off button.

I spent ten more minutes with my head under the covers, my head pounding from my first hangover. Damn crap was too much...ohhhh, I'm not getting out for the rest of the day. My head peeked out far enough to read the clock. "Noon?"

After the usual round of hygenic activities, my mind finally switched to the report I was too annoyed to actually listen to. Oh well. Probably not important enough to remember. I flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.

All the news channels proved me wrong.

"We have numerous reports of an unknown creature attacking the U.S. Border Control station at the border of Washington State," the female anchorperson reported.

"Weather balloon," I replied dully. Just a bunch of Roswell fanatics.

Then they pulled up footage. Something with black wings and a mouthful of fangs snarled as it wreaked havoc on the property. It spied the camera and took it out. I gulped my coffee hard. "Not a weather balloon," I corrected.

The anchorpeople kept talking. It hadn't happened long ago. "It's only a couple of hours from here. Maybe it'll go north, or someone will kill it." I sighed and shook my head. "Knowing my luck, it most likely won't do that."

A half hour later, my duffel bag was packed. I had quickly decided that staying here would be a mistake and that I should quickly head south. The Air Force could take care of the freak. I doubt that they would let it enter a big city.

In my haste, I left the TV on as I walked out of my apartment.

"The creature is now known to be headed toward the Seattle area..."

I didn't know whether to have Nia run into the thing now or what. If she can, I can edit my post.

[Bulbasaur4]

NUANICA
[Female | American | Location: Chicago ]

-,@-,@-,@-,@-,@-,@-


Nuanica's eyes opened with a jolt as her body convulsed violently to the coming of night. A single droplet of sweat had formed on her brow as she came to conciousness, realizing that no longer was she in her hellish nightmare but back at her Chicago lair.
Her eyes flickered to the chains to see a few new gnawing markings upon them and a great sigh escaped pass her lips. The nightmare had once again triggered her animalistic state, but thankfully the chains had held again and again. While the nightmare was not reoccuring, it did happen often enough that Nuanica could never truly let herself sleep unchained. The monster within her was something that she simply could not tame...


"This just in: it appears the monster that had been attacking the boarder patrol on the Canadian Washington border has now approached the outskirts of Seattle, despite border and police reinforcements." The TV was flickering wildly, reflecting softly in Nuanica's golden eyes. She had stopped to peer through the window of a bar. Usually she would have snuck past, but the lack of boisterous sound coming from within had alarmed her. A change in sound was something to take note of, and thus she had peered through the window to see what they were all silent about. The TV was wild with footage of some blackened figure reeking havoc upon the state of Washington, it seemed.

"Washington..." Nuanica said to herself as she at last pulled away from the bar, having notice a figure walk by and enter through the doorway. Pulling her hood tightly about her, she pondered again to herself. Washington was far off, and of course there had to be others... somewhat like her to stop it. Besides, she was in Chicago- the idea to leave and attack the creature had briefly entered her mind as quickly as it faded.

Such a thing was impossible. By the time she would reach Washington it would be over and most likely she would be discovered and marked, thus forcing her to find a new home.

Giving a soft shrug, Nuanica continued her aimless stroll along the streets. She did not need food tonight, but if anything it was merely to stretch her legs amidst the dark streets of Chicago's night.

Shengmingli AKA Blood
[ Female | Chinese | Location: Somewhere in Shanghai ]
~^^^~^^^~^^^~^^^~

Shengmingli blinked for a moment, her large startling red eyes blinking swiftly and watering at the sudden blaze of sunlight stinging her pupils. Just moments ago, she had been sitting in the cold silver chair of the testing room where a scapel had lacerated against the underside of her knee. Then a strange feeling had overcome her- dizziness, much like when she lost too much blood- and randomly she was no longer sitting, but standing. The wound behind her knee had vanished as rapidly as it appeared and the painful sun greeted her unadjusted eyes.
Sounds of cars honking penetrated her ears, along with the rustling leaves and the occasional barking of a dog. After the initial shock of sunlight, she blinked her large eyes a few more times before beholding a man before her. His brown hair and equally bewildered green eyes immediately caught her attention- she had never seen green eyes before, nor had she seen brown hair. In fact, she had never seen a man dressed as strangely as him. She took a timid step towards him, before pausing in hesitation. Where was she? Why was she here? What were these strange sights and sounds? What was the odd sensation that brushed against her cheek and lifted debris off the ground?

She was overwhelmed at first, but perhaps by some sort of miracle or realization of the danger of shock, her brain swiftly silenced these questions and replaced them instead with the feeling of relief. She was no longer in her prison- no longer stabbed by needles for days on end and then sliced with glinting objects of sharp silver.

"Who... who are you?" The man questioned, lowering himself so that he was in a crouching position as he looked at her curiously. Shengmingli did not understand what he had asked and merely blinked at him, unmoving. He sighed for a moment and took several steps towards her and instinctively Shengmingli recoiled back.
"Wait! Don't be afraid..." He said in a softer tone, but she recognized the slight rise in his voice- a slight commanding air that she not take another step. Turning her head, she let out a shriek as she saw several large, metal monsters roaring past. She was not in the street but on the sidewalk, but seeing this creatures caused her to jump in surprise. Two warm hands were upon her shoulders instantly and she snapped her head about to see the man again, a smile upon his face although his face seemed flushed, as if he had suddenly drank a cup of coffee or come out of a steaming shower.
"It's alright, they're just cars." She felt a bit more at ease by the softer tones. He did not seem at all to be like the men who tortured her in the small rooms and instead he seemed to be something... something she had not experienced. Friendly? Perhaps that was the word, or caring... but such words were beyond her comprehension.

She felt his hand press at her back as he made a motion down the sidewalk, and Shengmingli took it as a direction for her to follow him. With little hesitation she instinctively followed, more out of habit than out of trust. With every new object that came into vision she stopped and stared, occassionally reaching out to touch this 'said object' if the man allowed her to do so.


"Wow... you sure eat a lot." The man said, after several hours of walking he had stopped at a diner, realizing that perhaps Shengmingli was hungry. He had ordered her pancakes with strawberries and whipped creaming, figuring she would like the sweet taste along with some orange juice. She had ate that, along with some of his own meal that he did not finish.
Over the diner table, after several, SEVERAL attempts, he finally conveyed his name to be Alex. (Or Chaotic, not sure what you want). Her tongue pronounced his name more like, "Ahn-lehs", but the soft and adorable tone of a girl of her age caused him to smile brightly and nod, finally making progress with her. He motioned to her repeatedly and she frowned, realizing that he meant for her name. She opened her mouth for a moment, to say her real name, but it dawned upon her that she could not remember. The only label that came to her mind was both of the nicknames that the scientists had called her. So, she offered both. "Shengmingli" she said with a pause, followed by, "Blood."

Alex's eyes widened for a moment, but the volume of the TV was suddenly raised causing both of their heads to turn. News was flashing across the screen with scenes of a black creature attacking humans, with a news reporter saying odd things such as "Washington" and "Attacks".
Blood shivered for a moment, as she set down the fork that she had mastered in the short time they had arrived.

[Blademaster]

Ivan and Enigma

"Hey, buddy. Wake up."

Enigma, now in the guise of a bum sleeping on a park bunch, just grunted and rolled over.

"Hey! I said WAKE UP!"

Enigma opened one eye crankily.

Standing over him was a portly police officer, a nightstick in hand, tapping it against his palm. He looked unhappy.

"You can't sleep here, pal." The policeman said, a frown plastered on his tomato-red face. "Shove off, now."

"Piss off, asshole." Enigma snarled, closing his eye.

The cop's frown deepened.

"I'm not gonna say it again." he warned. "Leave or you'll be arrested."

Irritated, Enigma got up off the bench and turned to walk away...

WHAM!

The officer's eyes bulged as Enigma's back foot planted itself in his crotch (forming into a cleat in the process); the cop hit the ground, hands over his crotch, writhing in pain.

Enigma smiled, lowering his foot and walking off into the bushes.

****************

A short while later, Enigma (now in his 'normal' garb) had reached a lake; on the shore sat a single person.

The previous night, Enigma and Ivan had heard an explosion, caused by a local factory accident. An explosion had set the building ablaze and trapped several workers inside; thanks to Ivan's teleporting powers and Enigma's shapeshifting, the workers had been saved and the fire extinguished.

As usual, afterwards, the duo had split up and fled - Ivan always distanced himself from people, and Enigma just didn't like them. Attention was fine, but he got annoyed too easily to be a celebrity. Several news reporters over the years and their black eyes and broken cameras could vouch for that.

"Yo! Nature boy!" Enigma hollered. "Wake up!"

"I'm already awake." Ivan said. "Please be quiet." Ivan whispered. "I'm trying to fish."

Enigma grumbled to himself and held out his hand, taking a deep breath.

FWOOM!

A huge plume of steam erupted from the lake as the energy blast slammed into its bed; water and assorted fish (and chunks of other animals) rained down around the duo.

Ivan's eyebrow twitched.

"There." Enigma said proudly. "Breakfast big enough for an entire city."

'This is why we're unable to ascertain nice things.' Ivan thought, his eyebrow twitching.

****************

A half an hour later, after eating (which Ivan had more than a few things to say about), the dark-haired swordsman was walking through the city, when he overheard a few teenagers walking past him:

"I hope Fiona's alright. She's got family in Vancouver."

"No, I heard that the attack is happening further towards Seattle."

"No, the news is saying that it's right ON the border."

"The border is huge, dude! That doesn't help!"

Ivan got a cold feeling in his stomach; he turned and approached the trio.

"Excuse me."

They turned towards him.

"What is this 'attack' you're speaking of?"

"Don't you watch the news, man?" the first teen asked. "There's some alien or something attacking on the Washington state border."

"Yeah, like in the movie Alien." the second one added. "Big, ugly, black thing with nasty teeth and claws."

"It's attacking border patrol stations, they said." the third one piped in. "Like, ten people are already dead. They SHOWED it on TV."

Ivan's eyes widened; he turned and ran, in search of Enigma.

[Bulbasaur4]

< Note: Just to make things a little clear, I mentioned inNuanica's post that the attacks were closer to seattle, due to the fact that she's a little ahead of everyone's timeline due to only being active at night. Hope that's alright Heald, I tried to leave it as open as possible. >

[MToolen]

[Patrick/Resonance|Male|late afternoon/early evening|San Fransisco]
The man moved quick, much quicker than Patrick, even as he carried an entire automobile through the city by the bay. "Excuse me, coming through," he said, almost seeming to enjoy the bewildered stares at his glowing body. He made it clear he was heading to the police station to deposit the no-gooder. Definitely a hero, Patrick thought.

Most of the crowds were easy enough to get past, having been shaken up enough by the stranger's weightlifting stunt. One in front of a television store, though, would not budge. "Don't you people have jobs to get to?" Patrick asked.

One of the passerby looked at him in suprise. "You mean you haven't seen this yet?" Patrick turned toward the screens; they showed a large black blob being pelted with a hail of gunfire. While interesting, this was not his primary target for the moment; that man with the car could be a link to his father and any link, no matter how small, was a priority. Shoving through the television-entranced crowd, Patrick pressed on to his man, hoping to eventually catch up to him.

[Dr.McNinja]

Chaotix…no…Alex now watched the broadcast with ill-disguised desire in his eyes. He sighed and turned back to the small girl…Shengmingli, “That’s for the “big boys” to take care of I guess.”

The girl stared back at him, her eyes unreadable but Alex could sense a question in there somehow, even if she couldn’t understand a word she said, “I’m small time, even if I wanted to get there any other super would look at me and laugh at the noname idiot in front of them.”

Shengmingli babbled something and Alex sighed again. Using his fork he picked at his food a bit longer before suddenly dropping the utensil with a crash. Staring at the young girl he grinned even as the static glitter appear in his eyes.

Understand her.

He felt a tingle and grinned even as he saw the young girl’s eyes widen, “Are…you okay? Ahn-lehs? Is something wrong with your eyes? If you want I can…”

A hand fell over the girl’s as she seemed to begin reaching for her butter knife. Thank god, for once it had worked as he had wanted it to. He spoke to her and felt a small thrill as a language he had never even attempted to learn flowed past his lips, “No, I’m fine. You see…how can I make you understand. Um…I’m special you see, I can do things a lot of people can’t and…”

He stopped as he saw some glimmer of understanding in the girl’s eyes. A small hand reached out to remove his and the other grasped the butter knife. Alex didn’t understand her intention before it was too late and the knife came up to make a small knick in the girl’s free hand. Alex gave a small shout and pulled the knife away from Shengmingli before grasping her injured hand to assess the damage.

There was none.

Shengmingli’s light, child-voice rose, “I am…special too I think.”

The two sat in silence for a long time. Time enough for the report to end and the people in the diner to start speculating on the danger presented in the rampaging monster. Finally, Alex’s mouth twitched in a smile, “Yeah….you’re special alright Shengmingli. I think you’re very special indeed. I never knew my powers could grant wishes too…”

Shengmingli didn’t understand but she saw the gears turning behind Alex’s eyes even as they flicked back and forth from the now silent television to her. He leaned over a bit after a second and spoke softly, “Shengmingli? I don’t know what you want to do with your powers during your life, I don’t think you would even know yet, but…do you believe in fate?”

The girl frowned, “Fate? This is?”

Alex kept her gaze, “Fate, something you are meant to do. Something you were born for, something that gives your life a….purpose.”

Shengmingli seemed to taste the words. “Pur…pose…This is?”

The young man blinked a few times, “Your purpose is…is the reason you live, the reason you keep on living.”, he paused trying to find words that a child could understand, “What you want to do, what you were meant to do.”

The girl seemed troubled, “I…I do not know if I have a purpose Ahn-lehs.”

The grin was back, “I can’t make one for you Shengmingli but maybe if you help me accomplish mine I can help you find yours. Does that sound nice?”

A smile appeared on Shengmingli’s face as well, tremulous as it was, “Yes, it sounds nice. As long….as long as my purpose is not with the people where I came from.”

Alex’s smile faded a bit as he took measure of the small girl in front of him and saw something past the youthful innocence in her eyes. She had seen things he could not begin to understand yet. His other hand clasped over the girl’s formerly injured one, “Shengmingli, if you don’t want to go back there then I swear to you they will have to go through me before they touch a hair on your head.”

He did not need to understand Chinese to appreciate the sparkle that suddenly appeared in her eyes.