Mitheral
"Growf!"
Mitheral submitted a new role play:
Only Superhuman - Metahuman superheroes.
Only Superhuman - Metahuman superheroes.
Read more about this role play...
Only Superhuman [Inactive]
- Thread starter Mitheral
- Start date
Mitheral
"Growf!"
Mitheral updated Only Superhuman with a new update entry:
Notable GM and Co Mod Characters
Notable GM and Co Mod Characters
Read the rest of this update entry...
Mitheral
"Growf!"
Mitheral updated Only Superhuman with a new update entry:
NPC Folder Updates
On Site
This applies to Leroy, who has only recently recovered from a near fatal beating and a period of a healing coma. He will already have on site living facilities. The Founders have ID’s of his rescuers finally - though only by rumor. One fits the description of the Dark Knight, a vigilante supposedly killed by organized crime gunned down on the Brooklyn Bridge. The body was never recovered.
Airport Pick Up
Elizabeth Thompson will be waiting by the limo with a large sign with the first names of her passengers. Elizabeth, or Lizzy as she is known by her friends, is a short woman whose strength belied her size. She is all muscles underneath the chauffeur's outfit she wears. Military sunglasses hide the impatient look she holds for everyone that makes her wait. She is former Special Forces, a former detective, and currently serves in the role of a bodyguard. She left law enforcement over anger issues. But she’s been fine ever since. It was having to deal with scum on a daily basis, unable to beat them to pulps that got to her.
The Limo has NO Alcohol in its bar. This is because it occasionally gets used to pick up kids. Elizabeth will insist on loading any luggage into the trunk. Partly this is because it is her job. Partly it is because she doesn’t want anyone to accidentally set off an RPG and blow a hole through the front of the airport. Homeland Security tends to frown on that sort of thing.
Domestic Travel
This is for those whose didn’t specify where they are from in the US. If you like you can be from cities far enough away to fly in and use the Airport Pick Up above. Jaraxus will be picked up by none other than Nick Danger (age 62). The man is a living legend that had a comic book named after him. He never changed his name. (He comes from a long line of Nick Dangers.) He’s sort of a cross between Indiana Jones and Ace from the old Johnny Quest series. He drives a jeep, of course.
Burst will be picked up by Dr Lars Johanson, a man who was the RP’s answer to Reed Richards (minus the powers) or Tony Stark. He was known publicly for having stopped a number of dangerous metahumans back in the 80’s. Unknown to the world he was also the superhero known as Dragonclaw. His younger sister was a New Age musical prodigy that happens to be blind.
Morningstar will be picked up by Maureen Channing, CEO of WNN (Women’s News Network) in a limousine with heavily tinted windows. She is a 6’5” tall, pale and slender redhead The limo is driven by a very short older redheaded woman who has a mascot suit for the University of Alabama riding shotgun. Her beret has a U of A pin on it. This is Linda Paterson, who is fanatical about her favorite team.
Already Screened
These are members who have been cleared and already issued security Rings. The Rings are of an alien technology. They cannot be swapped out. These members will already have quarters at the base (whether they live there full time or not). If they require any special conditions (like 10 zillion candlewatt sunlights installed to recharge daily), this handled by the Habitat Engineer, William Greyson. Medical needs are screened by his wife, Muriel Reno.
Arrival at the Base
From the exterior the base looks like an old sportsdome that has seen better days. The parking lot is vacant, in need of repairs with weeds growing up through cracks. The walls are covered with graffiti. The reinforced concrete of the dome was once cracked by some titanic force - a metahuman known as Fourth Reich. Since that time the base has been abused - as a crackhouse, teen hangout, and cage fighting, rave site, and worse.
There are five ways to enter the facility. The main entry - used by limos and POV’s is the redesigned public entrance. It is now a security airlock. The vehicle drives in, gets heavily scanned. (Heather Daniels is paranoid.) Once satisfied the vehicle may enter. There is an aerial access through the dome that is still under repairs. There is a construction vehicle entrance. There is a teleportal system. And the base has been intruded upon several times by someone able to breach all their security.
Once past the airlock system the area opens into a stadium. The ice rink is in another section, and is used by the NY Rangers as a private training rink. The main open area has an indoor motocross track and a regular running track. It is a big complex. The original builders once planned to use it for the Olympics, but this never came to pass.
Meeting Up
Flights and pick up times will have been scheduled to bring everyone in fairly early in the morning in time for breakfast. Breakfast is served out by the Track field like it was an outdoor grill military mess hall. These people could easily manage a MASH unit. The food is a somewhat better quality though. The food is freshly cooked, usually by Amaretta Carnegie, Muriel Reno and her daughter Rachel, Dr Greyson, and a few others. These are people at the top of their fields with distinguished careers. But they treat complete strangers like family and have no issues with pulling KP duty. This is where the team will get to meet one another, some for the first time.
NPC Folder Updates
Read the rest of this update entry...
On Site
This applies to Leroy, who has only recently recovered from a near fatal beating and a period of a healing coma. He will already have on site living facilities. The Founders have ID’s of his rescuers finally - though only by rumor. One fits the description of the Dark Knight, a vigilante supposedly killed by organized crime gunned down on the Brooklyn Bridge. The body was never recovered.
Airport Pick Up
Elizabeth Thompson will be waiting by the limo with a large sign with the first names of her passengers. Elizabeth, or Lizzy as she is known by her friends, is a short woman whose strength belied her size. She is all muscles underneath the chauffeur's outfit she wears. Military sunglasses hide the impatient look she holds for everyone that makes her wait. She is former Special Forces, a former detective, and currently serves in the role of a bodyguard. She left law enforcement over anger issues. But she’s been fine ever since. It was having to deal with scum on a daily basis, unable to beat them to pulps that got to her.
The Limo has NO Alcohol in its bar. This is because it occasionally gets used to pick up kids. Elizabeth will insist on loading any luggage into the trunk. Partly this is because it is her job. Partly it is because she doesn’t want anyone to accidentally set off an RPG and blow a hole through the front of the airport. Homeland Security tends to frown on that sort of thing.
Domestic Travel
This is for those whose didn’t specify where they are from in the US. If you like you can be from cities far enough away to fly in and use the Airport Pick Up above. Jaraxus will be picked up by none other than Nick Danger (age 62). The man is a living legend that had a comic book named after him. He never changed his name. (He comes from a long line of Nick Dangers.) He’s sort of a cross between Indiana Jones and Ace from the old Johnny Quest series. He drives a jeep, of course.
Burst will be picked up by Dr Lars Johanson, a man who was the RP’s answer to Reed Richards (minus the powers) or Tony Stark. He was known publicly for having stopped a number of dangerous metahumans back in the 80’s. Unknown to the world he was also the superhero known as Dragonclaw. His younger sister was a New Age musical prodigy that happens to be blind.
Morningstar will be picked up by Maureen Channing, CEO of WNN (Women’s News Network) in a limousine with heavily tinted windows. She is a 6’5” tall, pale and slender redhead The limo is driven by a very short older redheaded woman who has a mascot suit for the University of Alabama riding shotgun. Her beret has a U of A pin on it. This is Linda Paterson, who is fanatical about her favorite team.
Already Screened
These are members who have been cleared and already issued security Rings. The Rings are of an alien technology. They cannot be swapped out. These members will already have quarters at the base (whether they live there full time or not). If they require any special conditions (like 10 zillion candlewatt sunlights installed to recharge daily), this handled by the Habitat Engineer, William Greyson. Medical needs are screened by his wife, Muriel Reno.
Arrival at the Base
From the exterior the base looks like an old sportsdome that has seen better days. The parking lot is vacant, in need of repairs with weeds growing up through cracks. The walls are covered with graffiti. The reinforced concrete of the dome was once cracked by some titanic force - a metahuman known as Fourth Reich. Since that time the base has been abused - as a crackhouse, teen hangout, and cage fighting, rave site, and worse.
There are five ways to enter the facility. The main entry - used by limos and POV’s is the redesigned public entrance. It is now a security airlock. The vehicle drives in, gets heavily scanned. (Heather Daniels is paranoid.) Once satisfied the vehicle may enter. There is an aerial access through the dome that is still under repairs. There is a construction vehicle entrance. There is a teleportal system. And the base has been intruded upon several times by someone able to breach all their security.
Once past the airlock system the area opens into a stadium. The ice rink is in another section, and is used by the NY Rangers as a private training rink. The main open area has an indoor motocross track and a regular running track. It is a big complex. The original builders once planned to use it for the Olympics, but this never came to pass.
Meeting Up
Flights and pick up times will have been scheduled to bring everyone in fairly early in the morning in time for breakfast. Breakfast is served out by the Track field like it was an outdoor grill military mess hall. These people could easily manage a MASH unit. The food is a somewhat better quality though. The food is freshly cooked, usually by Amaretta Carnegie, Muriel Reno and her daughter Rachel, Dr Greyson, and a few others. These are people at the top of their fields with distinguished careers. But they treat complete strangers like family and have no issues with pulling KP duty. This is where the team will get to meet one another, some for the first time.
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sharlene79
Member
Janice Rand was feeling no pain as she was wheeled out of First Class. It had been days since she had had any real sleep. Her trip had taken her out of the southern end of Zimbabwe, to the Deep Congo by way of a barely airworthy bush plane. From there she had flown - again - by seaplane to the coast line. Form there she had flown for two full days with layovers to London to meet her Mum.
The layover with her Mum had been a mere 10 hours, barely enough to visit, eat, freshen up - at her Mum’s insistence. Then it had been 18 gruelling hours to JFK International. She truly hated flying and this had been entirely too much. And she had to spend most of it in a wheelchair to conceal her mutated body. The only thing that had made the trip tolerable were the tiny bottles of liquor she had discovered. She had lost count long ago.
By the time she was wheeled out she was totally schnockered. When she was asked if she had luggage she laughed. Her tongue had become slightly anesthetized. To her, a master of numerous languages, it struck her as hilarious. She could speak many foreign tongues, but not master her own. But she did finally managed to get it across to the customer service personnel that she was meeting a limo.
It didn’t take long to find the limo with Elizabeth Thompson holding the sign that read: JANICE. She waved her hand at Liz and yelled. “HEY, THAT’S MY NAME!” Of course, she needed a little help getting poured into the car, and with getting her wheelchair loaded up.
The layover with her Mum had been a mere 10 hours, barely enough to visit, eat, freshen up - at her Mum’s insistence. Then it had been 18 gruelling hours to JFK International. She truly hated flying and this had been entirely too much. And she had to spend most of it in a wheelchair to conceal her mutated body. The only thing that had made the trip tolerable were the tiny bottles of liquor she had discovered. She had lost count long ago.
By the time she was wheeled out she was totally schnockered. When she was asked if she had luggage she laughed. Her tongue had become slightly anesthetized. To her, a master of numerous languages, it struck her as hilarious. She could speak many foreign tongues, but not master her own. But she did finally managed to get it across to the customer service personnel that she was meeting a limo.
It didn’t take long to find the limo with Elizabeth Thompson holding the sign that read: JANICE. She waved her hand at Liz and yelled. “HEY, THAT’S MY NAME!” Of course, she needed a little help getting poured into the car, and with getting her wheelchair loaded up.
Jays
That Loitering God
Jason sighed as he step out into the morning sunlight, closing the door behind him. Leaving a place you consider home is not easy, especially since his last one was on fire, the fire he caused. Thinking about it invoked the darker parts of his memory, the ones he hadn't thought of for years. Jason shook his head and pushed the unpleasant images back to its corner, raising his chin and let the warmth baths his face. No help brooding over that now, he thought. Still, this was the place where he first learned what it's like to be loved, where he overcame the darkness that drowned him. It was a shame that no matter how grateful he felt, he could never really get close to his aunt and uncle, could never let them know his secrets or share his burdens. But leaving them was probably for the best, because now he may have found a place that he belongs. So Jason Cain Sigil walked away from the place where he was loved, seeking a place where he might be accepted.
All of the worry and nostalgia occupied all his mind as he walked out, almost missing the firgue standing accross the street waving at him. So this is his pick up. It wasn't anything Jason guessed it would be.
One look tells him everything he needed about the man standing next to the shiny Roll Royce. Rich, intelligent, confident and exactly the type of people he dislikes. The guy pratically glows with authority and power. Grudgingly, Jason readjusts the strap of his travel bag and approached, reconsidering his action for the 1000th time that day. Sighing again, he revised all the radical reasons why he accepted the offer, returned the greeting he was given just to be polite, loaded his few belongings up and got into the car.
All of the worry and nostalgia occupied all his mind as he walked out, almost missing the firgue standing accross the street waving at him. So this is his pick up. It wasn't anything Jason guessed it would be.
One look tells him everything he needed about the man standing next to the shiny Roll Royce. Rich, intelligent, confident and exactly the type of people he dislikes. The guy pratically glows with authority and power. Grudgingly, Jason readjusts the strap of his travel bag and approached, reconsidering his action for the 1000th time that day. Sighing again, he revised all the radical reasons why he accepted the offer, returned the greeting he was given just to be polite, loaded his few belongings up and got into the car.
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Mitheral
"Growf!"
While the commute to Boston was a solid half hour for James and Jennifer from their home, the trip to the base took under a minute. It actually took longer to cycle through security than it took to get there. But they had had some things to do at the bookstore that morning. As they approached the base the dome loomed into view. James activated his ring as he began to slow down for the IFF to recognize him.
As he carried Jennifer he didn’t wait for the dome’s aerial door to open. Instead he looked for a gap in the roof where Fourth Reich had punched holes. Dr Greyson had done temporary patch jobs years ago. James was a little surprised to find none. While it looked bad, the breaches were now sealed. James had made it a personal mission to test the security as often as he could, always reporting ways he got in. Heather Daniels would be at least a little pleased. But everyone had agreed to place emphasis on securing the school first.
As soon as the dome opened a crack James and Jennifer slipped through and it closed behind them. The interior of the dome still showed scorch marks from blasts that must have resembled woolly Pete grenades - probably from Luftwaffe. That had been one ugly battle. A lot of good people had died. But the base location had served its purpose. The city hadn’t suffered much from the battle. The base grounds had been large enough to contain the fight. And in the end Luftwaffe’s most recent duplicate won her fight against her other twins before they absorbed her.
The heroes had won, but at a terrible cost.
But the prize was there on the motocross course. Two identical twin redheads, having fun before breakfast on their bikes. He smiled as he recalled the prank he had played once, smacking on the helmet faceplate of one of the twins and nearly causing an accident. He briefly considered a repeat, but thought better of it.
A few feet above the ground near where everyone was setting up breakfast he allowed himself and Jennifer to return to full size. He looked at Jennifer and asked. “Are you getting shorter?”
As he carried Jennifer he didn’t wait for the dome’s aerial door to open. Instead he looked for a gap in the roof where Fourth Reich had punched holes. Dr Greyson had done temporary patch jobs years ago. James was a little surprised to find none. While it looked bad, the breaches were now sealed. James had made it a personal mission to test the security as often as he could, always reporting ways he got in. Heather Daniels would be at least a little pleased. But everyone had agreed to place emphasis on securing the school first.
As soon as the dome opened a crack James and Jennifer slipped through and it closed behind them. The interior of the dome still showed scorch marks from blasts that must have resembled woolly Pete grenades - probably from Luftwaffe. That had been one ugly battle. A lot of good people had died. But the base location had served its purpose. The city hadn’t suffered much from the battle. The base grounds had been large enough to contain the fight. And in the end Luftwaffe’s most recent duplicate won her fight against her other twins before they absorbed her.
The heroes had won, but at a terrible cost.
But the prize was there on the motocross course. Two identical twin redheads, having fun before breakfast on their bikes. He smiled as he recalled the prank he had played once, smacking on the helmet faceplate of one of the twins and nearly causing an accident. He briefly considered a repeat, but thought better of it.
A few feet above the ground near where everyone was setting up breakfast he allowed himself and Jennifer to return to full size. He looked at Jennifer and asked. “Are you getting shorter?”
Pattycakes
Junior Member
The early bird gets the worm they said. Or at least, John tried to convince himself that was the case. Despite that, nothing felt good about commuting across New York City during rush hour traffic. The traffic, like any other time during rush hour in New York City, was painful and slow. He had actually left earlier than usual by catching the early bus, dealing his usual goodbyes to his wife and their soon-to-be son. Even still, he managed to wind up in the middle of rush hour traffic twelve blocks from the complex. As he was stuck on the bus, he thought about his wife, something he found himself doing more and more frequently as the due date for their child approached. While Rachel knew that John was working for a private research group instead of working at Columbia, she initially had been hesitant. The hesitation was quickly subdued when the Institute began paying. The money was much more than what John had been pulling in at Columbia, there was no denying that. And since, to her knowledge, it was only research, she had little qualms about his new job other than his increased hours. If she only knew the truth..., John thought. In truth, his job was much more dangerous and active than he would ever let her know. He was selling her a lie, yes, but a harmless one, he believed.
As the traffic finally began moving again, John saw the dome appear in the front of him. Even though it had been half a year since he was brought on board to the Institute, he still couldn't get over the dome. For all the money that was pumped inside, you would have thought that they could have afforded to make the dome more...appealing. It looked like something you'd expect to find rats, crime, and prostitutes working out of. Perhaps, he thought, that was exactly what the founders were going for. Certainly this dome was the last place you would expect to find a secret metahuman operations group. It sure was the last place he had expected.
The bus deposited him on a street corner just next to the parking lot. Walking forward, he moved down into the public entrance, stopping to show security his ring before moving on again. As soon as he entered the dome, John headed straight for the breakfast area. Normally, he headed straight for the teleport, but yesterday he had been asked to report to the breakfast area as he would be meeting a new team. That still didn't stop him from eating his breakfast, healthy, at home with his wife. Enjoying an omelet cooked by his wife was one of the little things in life he did not think was worth passing up on. Looking across the dome towards the breakfast area, he quickly eyed a spot about 10 feet from the breakfast area and reappeared in the spot. This took about a second.
His teleportation ability had been the result of many questions by others in the base. Most, he found, wanted to know how it felt when he teleported. Could he still sense where he was? So and so far with their questions. John often answered them as candidly he could with a smile. Although, he often warned, the explanation could be longer than the asker would like. It was the one of the things you got when you asked any Ph.D a simple question: an over-explanation. Simply, he often stated, he could say definitively what he experienced when he teleported. For how does one explain sight to a blind man or hearing to a deaf man? So, too, it was the same with teleporation and those not gifted with teleportation. There was no way to explain the experience.
Walking up to the breakfast area, John nodded to the staff and others already eating. "Good Morning," he said. Even though he hated mornings, that did not mean could be rude. He grabbed a cup of Joe and sat at one of the tables. John looked over at the newspaper rack close by holding the daily copy of the New York Times. Instantly, to the beholder, the newpaper appeared in front of him on the table. Picking up the Times, he began to read through the daily stories of the day while sipping his Morning Joe.
As the traffic finally began moving again, John saw the dome appear in the front of him. Even though it had been half a year since he was brought on board to the Institute, he still couldn't get over the dome. For all the money that was pumped inside, you would have thought that they could have afforded to make the dome more...appealing. It looked like something you'd expect to find rats, crime, and prostitutes working out of. Perhaps, he thought, that was exactly what the founders were going for. Certainly this dome was the last place you would expect to find a secret metahuman operations group. It sure was the last place he had expected.
The bus deposited him on a street corner just next to the parking lot. Walking forward, he moved down into the public entrance, stopping to show security his ring before moving on again. As soon as he entered the dome, John headed straight for the breakfast area. Normally, he headed straight for the teleport, but yesterday he had been asked to report to the breakfast area as he would be meeting a new team. That still didn't stop him from eating his breakfast, healthy, at home with his wife. Enjoying an omelet cooked by his wife was one of the little things in life he did not think was worth passing up on. Looking across the dome towards the breakfast area, he quickly eyed a spot about 10 feet from the breakfast area and reappeared in the spot. This took about a second.
His teleportation ability had been the result of many questions by others in the base. Most, he found, wanted to know how it felt when he teleported. Could he still sense where he was? So and so far with their questions. John often answered them as candidly he could with a smile. Although, he often warned, the explanation could be longer than the asker would like. It was the one of the things you got when you asked any Ph.D a simple question: an over-explanation. Simply, he often stated, he could say definitively what he experienced when he teleported. For how does one explain sight to a blind man or hearing to a deaf man? So, too, it was the same with teleporation and those not gifted with teleportation. There was no way to explain the experience.
Walking up to the breakfast area, John nodded to the staff and others already eating. "Good Morning," he said. Even though he hated mornings, that did not mean could be rude. He grabbed a cup of Joe and sat at one of the tables. John looked over at the newspaper rack close by holding the daily copy of the New York Times. Instantly, to the beholder, the newpaper appeared in front of him on the table. Picking up the Times, he began to read through the daily stories of the day while sipping his Morning Joe.
Valor Green
The Seer of Heart and the Queen of Hipsters
Valerie stared out her window as the limousine drove through the city, passing by skyscrapers and streetlamps. She took in every sight as best she could with a sense of silent bewilderment. She wasn't sure exactly where she was headed, but she did know that she was in the hands of important people. She felt an amalgam of fear and excitement well up inside her. She hadn't said much throughout the ride, nor had Miss Channing said much to her. There was, however, a mutual understanding in her smile, when Valerie was invited into the vehicle. There were great things in store, to be sure - be they for better or for worse.
Valerie took her eyes off the shaded atmosphere barely visible through the windows and turned her attention toward the front. "Excuse me, ma'am." She spoke in a soft, almost mousy tone, clearly intimidated by the degree of clout on display before her. "I-..." She paused to clear her drying throat, as it had begun to sting as she spoke. "Pardon. Is there any music you could play back here? I get a bit antsy in the silence." She sat back in her seat, as a classical melody chimed through the interior. "Thank you." She took a glass from the bar and filled it half-way with water before taking a large drink. She'd been so occupied with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed her blonde hair beginning to dirty with a brunette tinge. Seeing the strands fall in front of her face, she quickly corrected this lapse and pulled out a compact mirror in a purple case to ensure her face was also up to standard.
Valerie took her eyes off the shaded atmosphere barely visible through the windows and turned her attention toward the front. "Excuse me, ma'am." She spoke in a soft, almost mousy tone, clearly intimidated by the degree of clout on display before her. "I-..." She paused to clear her drying throat, as it had begun to sting as she spoke. "Pardon. Is there any music you could play back here? I get a bit antsy in the silence." She sat back in her seat, as a classical melody chimed through the interior. "Thank you." She took a glass from the bar and filled it half-way with water before taking a large drink. She'd been so occupied with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed her blonde hair beginning to dirty with a brunette tinge. Seeing the strands fall in front of her face, she quickly corrected this lapse and pulled out a compact mirror in a purple case to ensure her face was also up to standard.
Mooalally
The Bringer of Odd Characters
Orville was slightly uncomfortable. The man next to him, who unfortunately took up more than his seat, had been eating peanut butter for the last ten minutes. Quite noisily. He had only brought a little bottle, but somehow had made it last for what seemed like ages. All his smacking and chewing has drawn quite the annoyance from him. But he willed himself not to do anything, for fear of drawing attention to himself. And attention was one of the bottom items on his priority list, especially after finally submitting to an airplane after spending a couple of hours ruling out every other form of transportation. He had to get there on schedule, and it was too late to take a boat to New York, trains don't go across oceans and he didn't fancy trying to create a bridge of ice.
He was careful the entire time at the airport. When they were checking his luggage, he tried to act as nonchalant and innocent as possible so as not to provoke a pat down from the security. After he finally got through what was an extremely nerve-wracking event, he had the misfortune to have this man sit down beside him. No matter what he thought about, his mind would always be drawn back to this lip-smacking, chin-wobbling, finger-dipping animal. This was more than he could take. He got up, and after an enormous amount of contorting and bending, he was able to get past into the aisle. He walked down to the washroom and that's where the rest of his flight was spent. And also where he felt guilty about the bad things he had thought of while listening to the unstoppable chewing. After all, everyone is equal. That was the maxim he went by, which includes nuisances. But the plane landed successfully and not soon after, and he was able to get out, albeit after everyone else so as not to accidentally bump into someone in the shuffling of feet and bags.
Once into a space with a little bit more elbow room, he tried to absentmindedly search for this supposed person who was picking him up. It was outside, and it was odd: cars were driving on the wrong side of the road, there was more traffic than could possibly be seen, and again, an annoyance. A woman was smoking to the right of him, presumably also looking for her ride. He coughed purposely, trying to signal that she was irritating him. She didn't get it. He gave up and walked a few more metres away, to a spot where he couldn't smell it anymore.
And it was there that he heard another voice shout about her name and it being on a sign. Either the people in New York were all collectively trying to annoy him or he had done something wrong and karma was taking its toll. He tried to find where he had heard it from, and found a woman getting into a limo. And he was surprised to see that this aforementioned sign had his name on it too. He hoped against hope it was a coincidence, so he wouldn't have to sit with that lady, but he knew inside that luck would place him there. He sighed before walking up, introducing himself, and with extreme reluctance, slunk into a seat.
He was careful the entire time at the airport. When they were checking his luggage, he tried to act as nonchalant and innocent as possible so as not to provoke a pat down from the security. After he finally got through what was an extremely nerve-wracking event, he had the misfortune to have this man sit down beside him. No matter what he thought about, his mind would always be drawn back to this lip-smacking, chin-wobbling, finger-dipping animal. This was more than he could take. He got up, and after an enormous amount of contorting and bending, he was able to get past into the aisle. He walked down to the washroom and that's where the rest of his flight was spent. And also where he felt guilty about the bad things he had thought of while listening to the unstoppable chewing. After all, everyone is equal. That was the maxim he went by, which includes nuisances. But the plane landed successfully and not soon after, and he was able to get out, albeit after everyone else so as not to accidentally bump into someone in the shuffling of feet and bags.
Once into a space with a little bit more elbow room, he tried to absentmindedly search for this supposed person who was picking him up. It was outside, and it was odd: cars were driving on the wrong side of the road, there was more traffic than could possibly be seen, and again, an annoyance. A woman was smoking to the right of him, presumably also looking for her ride. He coughed purposely, trying to signal that she was irritating him. She didn't get it. He gave up and walked a few more metres away, to a spot where he couldn't smell it anymore.
And it was there that he heard another voice shout about her name and it being on a sign. Either the people in New York were all collectively trying to annoy him or he had done something wrong and karma was taking its toll. He tried to find where he had heard it from, and found a woman getting into a limo. And he was surprised to see that this aforementioned sign had his name on it too. He hoped against hope it was a coincidence, so he wouldn't have to sit with that lady, but he knew inside that luck would place him there. He sighed before walking up, introducing himself, and with extreme reluctance, slunk into a seat.
sharlene79
Member
(OOC: You will find that generally I run our female NPC’s, while Mitheral handles the males. We’ve shared them for over a decade.)
Neither woman in the limo smoked. Lizzy was simply too proud of her health. Janice had always thought they stunk. And now was no exception. Her nose wrinkled as soon as Orville got in the Limo. She was about to object as Lizzy shut the door behind Orville and started to the driver’s side.
“Oh crap! The wheel’s on the rog side!” She stared at Orville. Then she sniffed and wrinkled her nose again. “Oh wait. They do everything backwards here. Uhm, dibs on the curb side seat. Unless you want a better chance of me ralphing on you. I hate flying. And it is freezing here. Is that snow?”
She sighed and leaned back, then forward and extended a hand. “Janice Rand. I think my tug is nub.” She chuckled a little. She didn’t seem old enough to drink in the USA, but then the plane had been British Airways, where her age might not have been a problem. Still, it was pretty obvious she had had a bit too much.
+++++++++++
Despite the dark tinted windows Maureen Channing wore dark sunglasses. She was polite enough, welcoming her and introducing herself and rode in the back along with Valerie. When her young passenger finally spoke up she leaned back. “Whatever she likes Linda. If it bothers you you can close us off and I’ll use the PA if needed.”
“I don’t bite. If you have questions, by all means ask.” Almost absently she fingered her crucifix, “I understand you regard yourself as devout and that it is a subject you enjoy. Yes, I know a great deal about you. You would not have been invited without a thorough background check.” She smiled thinly.
++++++++++++
Over near the center of the construction zone a ring of lights suddenly began to flash as beeping noises echoed from them. A few people glanced over.
Most notably Dr Greyson gave particular attention, reached over for some binoculars and keyed a throat mike. “Zone Clear.”
A second later an ovular bubble some 60 feet long and 15 feet in diameter appeared in a crackle of lightning. Almost as suddenly the bubble glowed like a rainbow, ranging through all the colors. Then a specialized cargo shipping container appeared inside and the bubble winked out.
Moments later a much smaller bubble appeared and vanished in the same fashion depositing a pair of figures in exoskeletal walker suits, the sort used for moving freight around. One figure was a man; the other a woman. The woman turned to head for the back of the container, but got called back.
These were Duncan Moran and his wife Amber Volkova. Held by a tether line was a four year old girl that floated around - their daughter, Ele. Duncan stood a mere 6’1” tall outside his suit. Amber, on the other hand was a blonde amazon, standing a full 6’5”. After they had cleared their arrival area they stepped out of their suits so they could move normally.
Neither woman in the limo smoked. Lizzy was simply too proud of her health. Janice had always thought they stunk. And now was no exception. Her nose wrinkled as soon as Orville got in the Limo. She was about to object as Lizzy shut the door behind Orville and started to the driver’s side.
“Oh crap! The wheel’s on the rog side!” She stared at Orville. Then she sniffed and wrinkled her nose again. “Oh wait. They do everything backwards here. Uhm, dibs on the curb side seat. Unless you want a better chance of me ralphing on you. I hate flying. And it is freezing here. Is that snow?”
She sighed and leaned back, then forward and extended a hand. “Janice Rand. I think my tug is nub.” She chuckled a little. She didn’t seem old enough to drink in the USA, but then the plane had been British Airways, where her age might not have been a problem. Still, it was pretty obvious she had had a bit too much.
+++++++++++
Despite the dark tinted windows Maureen Channing wore dark sunglasses. She was polite enough, welcoming her and introducing herself and rode in the back along with Valerie. When her young passenger finally spoke up she leaned back. “Whatever she likes Linda. If it bothers you you can close us off and I’ll use the PA if needed.”
“I don’t bite. If you have questions, by all means ask.” Almost absently she fingered her crucifix, “I understand you regard yourself as devout and that it is a subject you enjoy. Yes, I know a great deal about you. You would not have been invited without a thorough background check.” She smiled thinly.
++++++++++++
Over near the center of the construction zone a ring of lights suddenly began to flash as beeping noises echoed from them. A few people glanced over.
Most notably Dr Greyson gave particular attention, reached over for some binoculars and keyed a throat mike. “Zone Clear.”
A second later an ovular bubble some 60 feet long and 15 feet in diameter appeared in a crackle of lightning. Almost as suddenly the bubble glowed like a rainbow, ranging through all the colors. Then a specialized cargo shipping container appeared inside and the bubble winked out.
Moments later a much smaller bubble appeared and vanished in the same fashion depositing a pair of figures in exoskeletal walker suits, the sort used for moving freight around. One figure was a man; the other a woman. The woman turned to head for the back of the container, but got called back.
These were Duncan Moran and his wife Amber Volkova. Held by a tether line was a four year old girl that floated around - their daughter, Ele. Duncan stood a mere 6’1” tall outside his suit. Amber, on the other hand was a blonde amazon, standing a full 6’5”. After they had cleared their arrival area they stepped out of their suits so they could move normally.
Elegy
I am the bone of my sword
Jaraxus had been living a rather solitary life for the past year. He and his brother in their parents house, now empty and painfully silent without father and mother. Nevertheless, Jaraxus had pushed on, holding on to the belief that he was destined to achieve something greater, become something greater. His younger brother, Jake, had coped harshly with the death of father and mother, but he had persevered. At first, Jake was mute, eyes widened permanently in shock, the trauma of the event rooting itself deeply within his psyche. But now his state was much better. Jake attended school, went to social events, and tried his hardest at life, achieving stellar grades and recognition from many, which Jaraxus was pleased to see. Jaraxus had supported and encouraged his brother all his life and that would never change. Still, money was something that Jaraxus needed to make, and willed funds would not last forever. Hopefully, Jaraxus would be successfully instituted within the organization, and hopefully Jake would get to move with him. Jaraxus currently stood in his local airport, having been driven over there by his high school ( Jaraxus doesn’t have a license to drive). Jaraxus had bid goodbye to all his friends and Jake, and was now ready to leave for New York. Jaraxus had never gone to New York before, and was eager to see the place. Everything was in order; Jake was in the care of his uncle who had come to live with them shortly after their parents death. Jaraxus’s uncle was a kindly man who ran a large confectionary business, causing him to not be at home for extended periods of time. One could say Jaraxus became father and brother to Jake. But for a few months, Jaraxus’s uncle was there to stay.
Jaraxus passed through security and the dreary preparations before his flight with boredom. On the flight, Jaraxus slept through most of the short flight, sitting next to a tall man with glasses who was intently staring at a magazine about octopi(
). Upon arriving at New York, Jaraxus quickly gathered his luggage and cursed himself for not looking out the window and being asleep to see New York. Nevertheless, he would see it later he supposed. Jaraxus knew that he was being picked up by Nick Danger, and was incredibly excited to see the man. Although he had never been a fan of comics, Jaraxus still loved unique opportunity and grasped chances when he could. When Jaraxus stepped out of the airport, he was rather pleased with the sight of New York. It was as he expected, a metropolis of grandeur. Jaraxus breathed in the air, cold and light. After quickly scanning his surroundings, Jaraxus found the jeep that Nick Danger was driving and briskly walked towards it. After waving and greeting Nick from outside the car, he opened the front door and stepped in the car.“Hello Mr. Danger, I’ve known you for quite a while through your exploits and I would just like to say I am very fortunate to be meeting you here” Jaraxus said as he extended an arm towards Danger for a handshake.
Mooalally
The Bringer of Odd Characters
Oh Gods. Someone has just offered him a handshake. This was a little problematic, as he hasn't given one in almost 30 years. He had to think quickly. Luckily, they were in New York, where social misconduct was the stereotype: people bumping into one another, insults shouted from across the street. Based off of television, this place should be a madhouse. So it shouldn't be terribly awkward if he refused this social gesture. So to replace it, he simply nodded and put his hands in his pockets, to show that he is not willing to touch anyone else's hand at the moment.
"Orville ... Schuyler," he said, internally debating whether or not to reveal his last name. This person is supposed to be trustworthy - apparently they were going to work together but he still couldn't risk anything. Capitalism was present everywhere. "And I apologize for my hearing, but 'ralphing'? I don't quite know what that means. And while you answer that question, could you possibly tell me why you're sniffing? If I smell of anything, it's either because of the airplane or the ghastly man that was sitting next to me."
He was now uncomfortable yet again. Only now did he start consciously start breathing, and therefore inhale the awful smell of alcohol on her breath. He blinked a few times before scooting closer to the door and away from this strange new lady.
"Orville ... Schuyler," he said, internally debating whether or not to reveal his last name. This person is supposed to be trustworthy - apparently they were going to work together but he still couldn't risk anything. Capitalism was present everywhere. "And I apologize for my hearing, but 'ralphing'? I don't quite know what that means. And while you answer that question, could you possibly tell me why you're sniffing? If I smell of anything, it's either because of the airplane or the ghastly man that was sitting next to me."
He was now uncomfortable yet again. Only now did he start consciously start breathing, and therefore inhale the awful smell of alcohol on her breath. He blinked a few times before scooting closer to the door and away from this strange new lady.
Valor Green
The Seer of Heart and the Queen of Hipsters
Valerie watched the crucifix in the lady's hand, hesitant to speak to her own godliness - less out of anxiety and more to avoid redundancy. Her brow was furrowed in a peak of skepticism to which she was unaccustomed. It wasn't often that her faith was a subject of interest to anyone else, beside her father. She couldn't help but wonder if Miss Channing represented some church or what would be wanted of her. She had said some things in the same year which some may consider to be highly heretical or - as doubtful a prospect it seemed at the moment - perhaps, revolutionary. Unwittingly, she replicated the same fiddling with the small silver figure dangling from the chain around her neck, until finally, she spoke up once more. "What is this?" There was a small smirk playing at her lips as the preposterous likelihood of the situation settled in upon her. It seemed to be in poor taste to question a lady's generosity in such a brief and ignoble manner, but Valerie knew it may very well be that a limo ride with Maureen Channing would simply become another story to be dismissed as self-important fluff fabricated on a whim. Divinity or no, she knew her place in this moment and respected this woman as one would aristocracy. "If you don't mind my asking, where are we heading?"
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Mitheral
"Growf!"
Lars read the young man’s demeanor easily. He was being appraised. Not unexpected. Only he could see the man didn’t look too far beyond the exterior. He wondered for a moment if he had read people like that when he was that age. Almost smiling he realized he didn’t exactly want to answer that. Lars realized he had had the benefit of a silver spoon in his mouth growing up - and wise teachers to polish him into a young man. This kid had had it far rougher. And the root of the problem had been the kid’s own parents.
Lars put the sign away that read: JASON and got into the car. He had never cared for chauffeurs. Now he wished he had one. While after all these years he knew NYC fairly well, it just wasn’t his town. Like most of the founders he either was from NYC or had moved away long ago. As they pulled out and got rolling down the road Lars made a wrong turn - on purpose. It was a service drive - not intended for high speed traffic. But he stepped on it.
Then he began to flip buttons on the dash. A HUD appeared on the windshield. Then the vehicle began to make noises. As the speedometer approached 120 mph the vehicle shot into the air.
“I hate NYC traffic. Besides I don’t want you missing breakfast.”
Lars tried to engage in a little light conversation asking about college and business interests, but it was fairly obvious that the kid lacked enthusiasm for his studies. He was just trying to make his way in the world. So he didn’t push the conversation. It was a little disappointing, but it was common these days. As the world grew more complex more and more kids were losing their way as adulthood approached. And Jason had suffered more than his share of detours.
Lars aimed his skycar toward the dome and activated the security IFF system. As the dome loomed in their view the top began to open.
The helipad wasn’t as visible from the ground as it was from the air. This particular pad was huge though and showed signs of scorch marks by a vehicle many times the size of the Rolls Royce. A short distance away - far enough that sand and grit would be blown onto the food by their landings - the base personnel had gathered for breakfast. They weren’t a bunch of costumed freaks, but families. There were even small children among them.
+++++++++++++++
Duncan smiled slightly when he spotted Dr Federson and made a beeline for the man. Duncan was practically a genius. So was Amber for that matter. But neither of them had ever concentrated and continued their studies. Duncan had been the top of his field every time he took a course - and not just squeaking by, but by a wide point spread. He loved pretty much any hard science - non biological - but considered Physics to be the building block of all other science. And Math was the language that connected them.
The fact that he could teleport only added to his interest if the physicist. So when he learned that the founders were retaining the man’s services he started hitting the man up for tutoring and directed studies. Even at 51 Duncan still loved to learn.
“No, still working on that problem. I have an answer, but it makes no sense. By any chance did you stick a typo in the problem? If you did, you cost me a little sleep and probably shouldn’t admit it to Amber. I woke up in the middle of the night with an epiphany and couldn’t sleep until I wrote it down. Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened though.”
“Anyways today marks the beginning of the formation of a team. Today is just inprocessing, physicals, and measurements for gear. Three of you are combat ready. But you and the other new folks are far from being ready. That doesn’t mean we won’t have missions. But they will be voluntary. It’s just that if you don’t go, someone else will have to try.”
He sighed. “I wouldn’t be giving this up, but Ele is a game changer. Amber doesn’t want her growing up without a father and my health isn’t what it used to be.” Absentmindedly he started to pour himself a cup of coffee and got it slapped by Muriel Reno.
“Decaff … or Orange Juice,” Muriel hissed. “And don’t even think about looking at a Red Bull.” She rolled her eyes toward where Amber was chatting.
“You … are … evil.” Duncan growled. “OJ.”
Dr Greyson laughed. “Hey, you got it easy. I got two of them policing everything I eat.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
Nick Danger placed the sign that read: JARAXXUS away. Yes, he had misspelled the name. Nick still wore the trademark dagger he had always worn in the comic books. According the comics the dagger was magical and part of a matched set - the other worn by a heroine named Lady Luck.
Lady Luck had begun in the comics as sort of a female Johnny Quest type, daughter to a wealthy pair of geniuses and a prodigy herself. Nick Danger Sr had been the family bodyguard. This was actually Nick Danger Jr. She had been trained in self defense and inexplicably started going on missions as tech support. Then she became a sniper. In the last season of the comics before the line was discontinued there had been a love affair as Lady Luck finally blossomed into adulthood. Then she had mysteriously vanished. The comics never explained why.
Now the real Nick Danger had been a bodyguard for the Daniels’ family. The entire family and Nick danger Sr had died in a plane crash in the late 70’s. The family had been particularly well known for their support of metahuman rights and been largely responsible for the development of making those rights into law. There had been conspiracy theories about their deaths.
The older man smiled. “It has been a long times since I had exploits. These days it is more like preventative actions, public service. Heather does more than I ever could. But we can’t be everywhere. I’m afraid we don’t live here in NYC. This is just a visit. Heather is checking on her halfway house.
“You are the one we have been particularly looking forward to testing. We need to understand if your comprehension of tactics are current, or out of date. Our theory is that they will be up to date through the last generation. If so, you’ll need to be trained.
“While it is a little early to discuss the first three missions, you should know that he don’t expect heavy metahuman combat out of them. They are going to be hunts for singular metahumans. One is a vigilante. He may run you afoul of serious trouble - organized crime powerful enough to hire metahumans. The second is a monster hunt. The third is a car thief that we believe may be a metahuman. He may be working for the same organized crime that the vigilante is hunting. And the monster has been sighted along the same shoreline that the other two are working. In other words, small area to search.”
Lars put the sign away that read: JASON and got into the car. He had never cared for chauffeurs. Now he wished he had one. While after all these years he knew NYC fairly well, it just wasn’t his town. Like most of the founders he either was from NYC or had moved away long ago. As they pulled out and got rolling down the road Lars made a wrong turn - on purpose. It was a service drive - not intended for high speed traffic. But he stepped on it.
Then he began to flip buttons on the dash. A HUD appeared on the windshield. Then the vehicle began to make noises. As the speedometer approached 120 mph the vehicle shot into the air.
“I hate NYC traffic. Besides I don’t want you missing breakfast.”
Lars tried to engage in a little light conversation asking about college and business interests, but it was fairly obvious that the kid lacked enthusiasm for his studies. He was just trying to make his way in the world. So he didn’t push the conversation. It was a little disappointing, but it was common these days. As the world grew more complex more and more kids were losing their way as adulthood approached. And Jason had suffered more than his share of detours.
Lars aimed his skycar toward the dome and activated the security IFF system. As the dome loomed in their view the top began to open.
The helipad wasn’t as visible from the ground as it was from the air. This particular pad was huge though and showed signs of scorch marks by a vehicle many times the size of the Rolls Royce. A short distance away - far enough that sand and grit would be blown onto the food by their landings - the base personnel had gathered for breakfast. They weren’t a bunch of costumed freaks, but families. There were even small children among them.
+++++++++++++++
Duncan smiled slightly when he spotted Dr Federson and made a beeline for the man. Duncan was practically a genius. So was Amber for that matter. But neither of them had ever concentrated and continued their studies. Duncan had been the top of his field every time he took a course - and not just squeaking by, but by a wide point spread. He loved pretty much any hard science - non biological - but considered Physics to be the building block of all other science. And Math was the language that connected them.
The fact that he could teleport only added to his interest if the physicist. So when he learned that the founders were retaining the man’s services he started hitting the man up for tutoring and directed studies. Even at 51 Duncan still loved to learn.
“No, still working on that problem. I have an answer, but it makes no sense. By any chance did you stick a typo in the problem? If you did, you cost me a little sleep and probably shouldn’t admit it to Amber. I woke up in the middle of the night with an epiphany and couldn’t sleep until I wrote it down. Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened though.”
“Anyways today marks the beginning of the formation of a team. Today is just inprocessing, physicals, and measurements for gear. Three of you are combat ready. But you and the other new folks are far from being ready. That doesn’t mean we won’t have missions. But they will be voluntary. It’s just that if you don’t go, someone else will have to try.”
He sighed. “I wouldn’t be giving this up, but Ele is a game changer. Amber doesn’t want her growing up without a father and my health isn’t what it used to be.” Absentmindedly he started to pour himself a cup of coffee and got it slapped by Muriel Reno.
“Decaff … or Orange Juice,” Muriel hissed. “And don’t even think about looking at a Red Bull.” She rolled her eyes toward where Amber was chatting.
“You … are … evil.” Duncan growled. “OJ.”
Dr Greyson laughed. “Hey, you got it easy. I got two of them policing everything I eat.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
Nick Danger placed the sign that read: JARAXXUS away. Yes, he had misspelled the name. Nick still wore the trademark dagger he had always worn in the comic books. According the comics the dagger was magical and part of a matched set - the other worn by a heroine named Lady Luck.
Lady Luck had begun in the comics as sort of a female Johnny Quest type, daughter to a wealthy pair of geniuses and a prodigy herself. Nick Danger Sr had been the family bodyguard. This was actually Nick Danger Jr. She had been trained in self defense and inexplicably started going on missions as tech support. Then she became a sniper. In the last season of the comics before the line was discontinued there had been a love affair as Lady Luck finally blossomed into adulthood. Then she had mysteriously vanished. The comics never explained why.
Now the real Nick Danger had been a bodyguard for the Daniels’ family. The entire family and Nick danger Sr had died in a plane crash in the late 70’s. The family had been particularly well known for their support of metahuman rights and been largely responsible for the development of making those rights into law. There had been conspiracy theories about their deaths.
The older man smiled. “It has been a long times since I had exploits. These days it is more like preventative actions, public service. Heather does more than I ever could. But we can’t be everywhere. I’m afraid we don’t live here in NYC. This is just a visit. Heather is checking on her halfway house.
“You are the one we have been particularly looking forward to testing. We need to understand if your comprehension of tactics are current, or out of date. Our theory is that they will be up to date through the last generation. If so, you’ll need to be trained.
“While it is a little early to discuss the first three missions, you should know that he don’t expect heavy metahuman combat out of them. They are going to be hunts for singular metahumans. One is a vigilante. He may run you afoul of serious trouble - organized crime powerful enough to hire metahumans. The second is a monster hunt. The third is a car thief that we believe may be a metahuman. He may be working for the same organized crime that the vigilante is hunting. And the monster has been sighted along the same shoreline that the other two are working. In other words, small area to search.”
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Jays
That Loitering God
As the ride shot up into the air, Jason's grip on car handle above him tightened, the knucke turned white. So the car can fly. Great, he thought, so rich people have flying cars. It seemed more like showing off than anything, floating above the city. He got irritated when the guy, "Doctor Lars Johanson" tried to start a conversation, asking about his studies and life. Why would a doctor cared, he thought angrily, about a screwed-up boy who has nothing to offer but the ability of violence. So he avoid all the questions, trying to make the doctor lose interest until he stopped. Inside he feels like a jerk, but he was not used to sharing his personal life, ever. Besides, it's not like the organization didn't a file about him or anything.
The rest of the ride passed by in silent. Jason didn't ask any question, nor did he wanted to. Demanding answer when the one who knows it seems like the type that prefer superiorly messing with your head just wasn`t worth the effort. Jason dug out his MP3 player, cranked the volume to maximum and closed his eyes. His worries receded as the guitar rolls out, filling his ear. His mind was at peace, and he drifted into unconsiousness.
Jason jolted awake as a hand touch his shoulder. His instinct screamed and power focused around his hand, distorting the air arround it. His brows were covered in sweat and he slowly settled down, remembering where he was and dismissed the kinetic charge in his palm. Dr. Johanson shot him a puzzle glance, parking the car. Jason let out a shaky breath, pull out his headphone and wipe his face. It wasn't a pleasant dream. Dr. Johanson was still watching him, worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, Doctor." The doctor's look was doubtful, but he didn't say anything about it, just gestured ahead. "We're here."
Jason looked out the window to realise that they were in a sport field of some kind. Or ex-sport field by the look of it. The seats and walls showed sign of disuse, covered in rubble and broken down in places. At least the ground was relatively clean of trash and drug needles, which would not look out of place in this miserable scene. Then he noticed the food being set up in the far side of the tracks. Stomach rumbling, he got out of the car, delibrately not looking at Dr. Johanson, and set out for toward the free deliciously smelling breakfast, hoping those little kids and old people hadn't finish everything already. He jumped when two figures suddenly appeared a few feets in front of him, seemingly growing out of the ground. He sighed, watching the two teenagers. This place was full of weirdo, he decided, and he felt just at home.
The rest of the ride passed by in silent. Jason didn't ask any question, nor did he wanted to. Demanding answer when the one who knows it seems like the type that prefer superiorly messing with your head just wasn`t worth the effort. Jason dug out his MP3 player, cranked the volume to maximum and closed his eyes. His worries receded as the guitar rolls out, filling his ear. His mind was at peace, and he drifted into unconsiousness.
Jason jolted awake as a hand touch his shoulder. His instinct screamed and power focused around his hand, distorting the air arround it. His brows were covered in sweat and he slowly settled down, remembering where he was and dismissed the kinetic charge in his palm. Dr. Johanson shot him a puzzle glance, parking the car. Jason let out a shaky breath, pull out his headphone and wipe his face. It wasn't a pleasant dream. Dr. Johanson was still watching him, worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, Doctor." The doctor's look was doubtful, but he didn't say anything about it, just gestured ahead. "We're here."
Jason looked out the window to realise that they were in a sport field of some kind. Or ex-sport field by the look of it. The seats and walls showed sign of disuse, covered in rubble and broken down in places. At least the ground was relatively clean of trash and drug needles, which would not look out of place in this miserable scene. Then he noticed the food being set up in the far side of the tracks. Stomach rumbling, he got out of the car, delibrately not looking at Dr. Johanson, and set out for toward the free deliciously smelling breakfast, hoping those little kids and old people hadn't finish everything already. He jumped when two figures suddenly appeared a few feets in front of him, seemingly growing out of the ground. He sighed, watching the two teenagers. This place was full of weirdo, he decided, and he felt just at home.
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sharlene79
Member
Janice noted Oliver’s odd reaction. And after an awkward moment or two she withdrew her hand. She was accustomed to cultural differences and regarded this as just one more. It was a matter of acceptance and moving on.
When the man asked what ralphing was and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, colloquialism. It means if I suddenly start to turn green, you won’t want to be between me and a window. Like I said, I really don’t like flying. So I nipped a little on some of those tiny bottles to calm my nerves. I gotta tell you they were delish! I hadn’t had anything to drink - save for religious purposes - since I broke into the wine cellar at the mission and drank half their stock as a kid. I might have upset a few people on the plane by drinking all of the bottles. But I paid for them. Or my Mum did with the card she gave me. I’m afraid I don’t get paid much for what I do.”
Janice was a chatterbox. Of course, that might have been because she was drunk. But she seemed to be a pleasant drunk. And she was the closest thing to someone from home in this part of the world. At least she sounded more or less British, with a hint of Irish in there.
“Missionary. I grew up in the Congo at a church down there. Mostly I taught children. No real education myself. I just read … a lot. I’m sort of a polyglot. What about you? read much? You sound … Welsh? Not sure, I only lived in the UK a couple years - and that was on an endangered species game preserve in the North.”
From the front Lizzy interrupted. “Guys, I am going to have to drop you off when I get to the base and run. Personal business. Most of the founders forgot what today was. If you want to speak with Erin Smith when we get there, do so quickly. I have to drive her somewhere.” She was quiet for a moment. “Friend of hers passed away. This is the anniversary. Erin will be your track coach. But today they aren’t planning on any real activities. In processing, meet and greet, rooms, medical, and such. We figured some of you might have a little jet lag.
“Tomorrow will be some gear assignments and first three mission briefs. All in the Brooklyn area. Mostly expect some patrols. We don’t plan to send you out into war zones overnight. There’s a good chance they will send me along as backup. But normally I shuttle the kids. It’s only about 5 miles from the airport to the base, so we should be there soon. When we get there, grab some food. Don’t be shy. Oh, and you two should make it a point to meet James and Jennifer. James owns a rare and used bookstore. And he has contacts in the publishing business. Jennifer’s father has published a few books as well.”
++++++++++++++
Maureen looked at Valerie in mock alarm. “You don’t know? Uhm, Linda?
Linda seemed distracted. “Hmm? Oh … uhm … sorry Ms Channing.”
“Maureen.”
“Yes … Ms Channing.” Linda smiled back. “Uhm .. oh … the base. We’re going to the base. Uhm, Ms Channing, would it be alright if I dropped you off when I get to the base and run out. Personal business.”
Maureen’s voice dropped respectfully. “Of course, I know what today is. But you shouldn’t drive. I shouldn’t have had you even drive today at all. My apologies for that. I know what Helga meant to you. See if --”
“Lizzy’s going to drive us.”
“Good. I was about to suggest that.” Maureen looked back to Valerie. “Helga Stromberg. East German Olympic weightlifter. Her government experimented with some steroids that reacted with her biochemistry. She became Lifter, strongest being who ever lived, chosen as the champion of Athena. If you research her she became hired muscle. She kept getting sucked in by criminal types. But she was never the hardened criminal sort. We helped her get out of that rut.”
Maureen cocked her head sideways as she listened to the music Valerie had chosen. “I happen to be partial to music of many types. My usual favorite is modern opera, such as the Phantom of the Opera.” Her lips quirked upwards a little. Then she shook her head. “A little advice when it comes to working with the team you are about to meet: It is not who we are behind the mask, but our deeds which define us.” She was quoting a Batman movie of course. But she loved that quote. “You have few deeds by which to define yourself as of yet. Remember that before you judge the others you will be meeting. Many have paid the price in blood for the sake of others, often without thanks.”
When the man asked what ralphing was and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, colloquialism. It means if I suddenly start to turn green, you won’t want to be between me and a window. Like I said, I really don’t like flying. So I nipped a little on some of those tiny bottles to calm my nerves. I gotta tell you they were delish! I hadn’t had anything to drink - save for religious purposes - since I broke into the wine cellar at the mission and drank half their stock as a kid. I might have upset a few people on the plane by drinking all of the bottles. But I paid for them. Or my Mum did with the card she gave me. I’m afraid I don’t get paid much for what I do.”
Janice was a chatterbox. Of course, that might have been because she was drunk. But she seemed to be a pleasant drunk. And she was the closest thing to someone from home in this part of the world. At least she sounded more or less British, with a hint of Irish in there.
“Missionary. I grew up in the Congo at a church down there. Mostly I taught children. No real education myself. I just read … a lot. I’m sort of a polyglot. What about you? read much? You sound … Welsh? Not sure, I only lived in the UK a couple years - and that was on an endangered species game preserve in the North.”
From the front Lizzy interrupted. “Guys, I am going to have to drop you off when I get to the base and run. Personal business. Most of the founders forgot what today was. If you want to speak with Erin Smith when we get there, do so quickly. I have to drive her somewhere.” She was quiet for a moment. “Friend of hers passed away. This is the anniversary. Erin will be your track coach. But today they aren’t planning on any real activities. In processing, meet and greet, rooms, medical, and such. We figured some of you might have a little jet lag.
“Tomorrow will be some gear assignments and first three mission briefs. All in the Brooklyn area. Mostly expect some patrols. We don’t plan to send you out into war zones overnight. There’s a good chance they will send me along as backup. But normally I shuttle the kids. It’s only about 5 miles from the airport to the base, so we should be there soon. When we get there, grab some food. Don’t be shy. Oh, and you two should make it a point to meet James and Jennifer. James owns a rare and used bookstore. And he has contacts in the publishing business. Jennifer’s father has published a few books as well.”
++++++++++++++
Maureen looked at Valerie in mock alarm. “You don’t know? Uhm, Linda?
Linda seemed distracted. “Hmm? Oh … uhm … sorry Ms Channing.”
“Maureen.”
“Yes … Ms Channing.” Linda smiled back. “Uhm .. oh … the base. We’re going to the base. Uhm, Ms Channing, would it be alright if I dropped you off when I get to the base and run out. Personal business.”
Maureen’s voice dropped respectfully. “Of course, I know what today is. But you shouldn’t drive. I shouldn’t have had you even drive today at all. My apologies for that. I know what Helga meant to you. See if --”
“Lizzy’s going to drive us.”
“Good. I was about to suggest that.” Maureen looked back to Valerie. “Helga Stromberg. East German Olympic weightlifter. Her government experimented with some steroids that reacted with her biochemistry. She became Lifter, strongest being who ever lived, chosen as the champion of Athena. If you research her she became hired muscle. She kept getting sucked in by criminal types. But she was never the hardened criminal sort. We helped her get out of that rut.”
Maureen cocked her head sideways as she listened to the music Valerie had chosen. “I happen to be partial to music of many types. My usual favorite is modern opera, such as the Phantom of the Opera.” Her lips quirked upwards a little. Then she shook her head. “A little advice when it comes to working with the team you are about to meet: It is not who we are behind the mask, but our deeds which define us.” She was quoting a Batman movie of course. But she loved that quote. “You have few deeds by which to define yourself as of yet. Remember that before you judge the others you will be meeting. Many have paid the price in blood for the sake of others, often without thanks.”
Pattycakes
Junior Member
John missed Duncan approaching him. He was actively reading an op-ed on metahuman registration and removal proposals, something that troubled him greatly. It wasn't until Duncan began speaking to him that John noticed his presence, folding up and placing the newspaper down to look at Duncan.
He enjoyed Duncan's presence on the base immensely. When he had first began working at the Institute, he bemoaned the lost of the intellectual conversations of Physics he used to have with the other facility. Duncan, for him, filled that gap, being someone who understood most of what John was talking about. To top it all off, Duncan also had the gift of teleportation, although, from his talks from Duncan he believed that their gift worked in different ways in each of them.
"Which problem was that, Duncan? Forgive me, but we've been over so many recently, it all becomes jumbled together." He reached down and took a sip of his coffee.
"You know I detest violence, Duncan. Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent. A smile and a firm hand shake can go father than a punch. I joined the Institute to break new grounds in sciences and research. Combat, as we've discussed before, is not a place I want to be.
"I'm in the same boat as you, Duncan. My son's supposed to arrive in two months. I find myself worrying more and more as to what would happen should I die or something like that. It's just another reason that I want to stay out of combat. I'll work with the team, keep their gear up to date, and help out where I can, but if combat is going to be required, then maybe it's time that I returned to Columbia.
He enjoyed Duncan's presence on the base immensely. When he had first began working at the Institute, he bemoaned the lost of the intellectual conversations of Physics he used to have with the other facility. Duncan, for him, filled that gap, being someone who understood most of what John was talking about. To top it all off, Duncan also had the gift of teleportation, although, from his talks from Duncan he believed that their gift worked in different ways in each of them.
"Which problem was that, Duncan? Forgive me, but we've been over so many recently, it all becomes jumbled together." He reached down and took a sip of his coffee.
"You know I detest violence, Duncan. Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent. A smile and a firm hand shake can go father than a punch. I joined the Institute to break new grounds in sciences and research. Combat, as we've discussed before, is not a place I want to be.
"I'm in the same boat as you, Duncan. My son's supposed to arrive in two months. I find myself worrying more and more as to what would happen should I die or something like that. It's just another reason that I want to stay out of combat. I'll work with the team, keep their gear up to date, and help out where I can, but if combat is going to be required, then maybe it's time that I returned to Columbia.
Mitheral
"Growf!"
Duncan frowned. “Didn’t bring the problem with me. Not a big deal. I’ll ask later.”
“This is going to be a combat team. Tell me. Do you enjoy having to practice in secret? There are a lot of incompetent criminals out there who don’t give a damn about philosophy. They don’t care who they hurt to get what they want. The price of peace and freedom is blood. While I agree with you about the smile and handshake - it can and should go farther - it does not in the short run. Conflict accomplishes far more. It is only ended by the smile and handshake.
“Oh we will try to avoid combat - especially at first. but it is inevitable. There are those who want nothing more than to either exterminate or control us. If it really bothers you, don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out. I’ll hunt for your replacement - or take the job myself until I find one. I enjoy talking physics. But this team needs someone like you that has their back and won’t fold at the sight of violence.”
“This is going to be a combat team. Tell me. Do you enjoy having to practice in secret? There are a lot of incompetent criminals out there who don’t give a damn about philosophy. They don’t care who they hurt to get what they want. The price of peace and freedom is blood. While I agree with you about the smile and handshake - it can and should go farther - it does not in the short run. Conflict accomplishes far more. It is only ended by the smile and handshake.
“Oh we will try to avoid combat - especially at first. but it is inevitable. There are those who want nothing more than to either exterminate or control us. If it really bothers you, don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out. I’ll hunt for your replacement - or take the job myself until I find one. I enjoy talking physics. But this team needs someone like you that has their back and won’t fold at the sight of violence.”
sharlene79
Member
The first day had begun with a whirlwind of introductions. They had almost certainly met a few of the Founders, people with the wealth to afford all this: Dr Lars Johanson, Bernadine Williams, Erica Wheeler (Cybergen she built the company from the ground up that specialized in counterterrorism gear), Maureen Channing (CEO of WNN - Women’s News Network, built by her grandmother of the same name), Amanda Drake (DA from Boston - the former Liberty Belle - of a family line that goes all the way back to the Revolutionary War), Heather Daniels (Amanda Drake’s Aunt - founder of a fairly well known chain of Halfway Homes for Kids) and Alexander Steele (CEO of Steele Corps - built from the ground up, maker of specialized vehicles).
There was little doubt that some of the other older personalities present had a great deal to do with the founding of the base. Nick Danger had been an icon in his day - with a full comic book line. His wife, Heather Daniels, must have been THE Lady Luck. Dr William Greyson had been an NFL hopeful, the one and only quarterback to ever lead MIT to victory, but had chosen to pursue engineering. His name was a household word. He had engineered many of the upgrades to New Atlantis, home of LiSan Corp (makers of some of the finest computers in the world), a Jovian Habitat, the planned Tycho Moonbase and more. Dr Jagga Reed, a heavyweight world champion of kickboxing who had murdered his opponent in a fit of rage - a very public fall of a hero on the rise. The rage was later proven to be the result of pheromones. But that was only after he had served 10 hard years, during which he completed his education and earned a Nobel Prize. He had since married Jasmine Anabwe, Amanda Carnegie’s right hand.
The list continued on. Most seemed almost humble about their accomplishments. Some simply called them necessities at the time. If they hadn’t done it, someone else would have.
Next came In Processing which began with medicals and scanning. This set baseline data for hospital, provided measurements for costumes, and established information to program Rings. The Rings were tied into security IFF systems. They also served to activate a teleportal system that would swap out costumes with clothing - the stuff of science fiction. There was also a teleportal system to take them from the NYC Base to the LA base in an instant. They were issued earpiece comms, small flesh toned units that were all but invisible. And they were issued visors that resembled skydiver’s sunglasses. These served as combat flash protection, visual enhancement (UV and IR), with a HUD and GPS.
The facilities that had been refurbished proved to be completely different from the damaged exterior. The hospital was like something out of the Andromeda Strain - the newer version. As it happened, Dr Muriel Reno had once worked at CDC Atlanta in command of an entire wing devoted to BL 4 and 5 organisms. It was little wonder that she was such a freak about hygiene. And the personal quarters were quite comfortable, better than most young adults could have afforded on their own.
Before the team was dismissed for the day they were issued a DVD with dossiers on each of the other members. The dossiers read like resumes, devoid of personal info. It was merely powersets, notable skills, stuff like that. No mention of friends or family. No mention of legal entanglements. No psych profile data. Hobbies were referenced though.
++++++++++++++++
Day 2 began at 0700 for the new recruits, though most of the base was up by 0530. They began with breakfast again. The base managed to keep to a three square diet. Then at 0800 everyone was gathered in one of the briefing rooms around a long oval table. Amaretta Carnegie ran the briefing. Once the team was present she called the room to order.
“Welcome, all of you. I have included out alternate team members as they may be called to action in the course of the missions I am about to lay out for you. Overall it is a single mission, with several components. It pertains to the Brooklyn shoreline, from the westernmost tip to the Brooklyn Bridge and a couple blocks inland.
“Now the best we have so far for these targets so far are artist sketches. The priority for these are not necessarily in this order. First we have reports of a ‘monster.” She actually made quote gestures. “That is how she is described. Yes … she. All the descriptions we’ve had suggest the creature is female. She bears a vague resemblance to the Creature from the Black Lagoon, with wings like a flying squirrel and a long tail tipped with a deadly spike, long razor sharp talons, webbed hands and feet, pitch black eyes and black skin that is clearly amphibious. Her strength is clearly superhuman and her agility on ground or air is phenomenal. It is believed that she is capable of camouflage. She has been spotted at the University of New York in the biomedical research labs where she wreaked a little havoc and nearly burned the building down. Noone was hurt too seriously, though she put three men in the hospital and tried to kill one of the lead researchers. However, I am not entirely sold on the veracity of the stories.
“Second is a vigilante known as Dark Knight. Apparently he has a thing for Batman. He’s been described as wearing a costume that resembles the comic book character - minus the cape and cowl. He is, however dramatic and violent. He doesn’t use a gun, much like his namesake. In fact, so far he has relied on unarmed combat. There were claims on the grapevine that the mafia managed to gun him down on the Brooklyn Bridge, where he fell to his death. Noone could have survived that fall. However, no body has been recovered. Dark Knight, if he is still alive - and I believe he is - seems to be targeting organized crime, starting with money laundering operations.
“Third, is going to be a very tough, possibly impossible assignment. There is a metahuman known only as Random Stranger. Sometimes it is a male; sometimes female. He’s been spotted all over NYC, but most often and with the longest history, in the Brooklyn area.
“Fourth, reports of a car thief that has been eluding police. Every time they get close, he loses them. We believe he is using a metahuman ability to alter, cloak or transport the cars. The closest the police have come was custom auto mechanic’s shop that may be the front for a chop shop.
“Your jobs? Locate them and make a preliminary assessment. If they are obviously criminal, capture. And the monster … use your best discretion. Just be careful not to drag a fight into the public where collateral damage will include civilians.”
There was little doubt that some of the other older personalities present had a great deal to do with the founding of the base. Nick Danger had been an icon in his day - with a full comic book line. His wife, Heather Daniels, must have been THE Lady Luck. Dr William Greyson had been an NFL hopeful, the one and only quarterback to ever lead MIT to victory, but had chosen to pursue engineering. His name was a household word. He had engineered many of the upgrades to New Atlantis, home of LiSan Corp (makers of some of the finest computers in the world), a Jovian Habitat, the planned Tycho Moonbase and more. Dr Jagga Reed, a heavyweight world champion of kickboxing who had murdered his opponent in a fit of rage - a very public fall of a hero on the rise. The rage was later proven to be the result of pheromones. But that was only after he had served 10 hard years, during which he completed his education and earned a Nobel Prize. He had since married Jasmine Anabwe, Amanda Carnegie’s right hand.
The list continued on. Most seemed almost humble about their accomplishments. Some simply called them necessities at the time. If they hadn’t done it, someone else would have.
Next came In Processing which began with medicals and scanning. This set baseline data for hospital, provided measurements for costumes, and established information to program Rings. The Rings were tied into security IFF systems. They also served to activate a teleportal system that would swap out costumes with clothing - the stuff of science fiction. There was also a teleportal system to take them from the NYC Base to the LA base in an instant. They were issued earpiece comms, small flesh toned units that were all but invisible. And they were issued visors that resembled skydiver’s sunglasses. These served as combat flash protection, visual enhancement (UV and IR), with a HUD and GPS.
The facilities that had been refurbished proved to be completely different from the damaged exterior. The hospital was like something out of the Andromeda Strain - the newer version. As it happened, Dr Muriel Reno had once worked at CDC Atlanta in command of an entire wing devoted to BL 4 and 5 organisms. It was little wonder that she was such a freak about hygiene. And the personal quarters were quite comfortable, better than most young adults could have afforded on their own.
Before the team was dismissed for the day they were issued a DVD with dossiers on each of the other members. The dossiers read like resumes, devoid of personal info. It was merely powersets, notable skills, stuff like that. No mention of friends or family. No mention of legal entanglements. No psych profile data. Hobbies were referenced though.
++++++++++++++++
Day 2 began at 0700 for the new recruits, though most of the base was up by 0530. They began with breakfast again. The base managed to keep to a three square diet. Then at 0800 everyone was gathered in one of the briefing rooms around a long oval table. Amaretta Carnegie ran the briefing. Once the team was present she called the room to order.
“Welcome, all of you. I have included out alternate team members as they may be called to action in the course of the missions I am about to lay out for you. Overall it is a single mission, with several components. It pertains to the Brooklyn shoreline, from the westernmost tip to the Brooklyn Bridge and a couple blocks inland.
“Now the best we have so far for these targets so far are artist sketches. The priority for these are not necessarily in this order. First we have reports of a ‘monster.” She actually made quote gestures. “That is how she is described. Yes … she. All the descriptions we’ve had suggest the creature is female. She bears a vague resemblance to the Creature from the Black Lagoon, with wings like a flying squirrel and a long tail tipped with a deadly spike, long razor sharp talons, webbed hands and feet, pitch black eyes and black skin that is clearly amphibious. Her strength is clearly superhuman and her agility on ground or air is phenomenal. It is believed that she is capable of camouflage. She has been spotted at the University of New York in the biomedical research labs where she wreaked a little havoc and nearly burned the building down. Noone was hurt too seriously, though she put three men in the hospital and tried to kill one of the lead researchers. However, I am not entirely sold on the veracity of the stories.
“Second is a vigilante known as Dark Knight. Apparently he has a thing for Batman. He’s been described as wearing a costume that resembles the comic book character - minus the cape and cowl. He is, however dramatic and violent. He doesn’t use a gun, much like his namesake. In fact, so far he has relied on unarmed combat. There were claims on the grapevine that the mafia managed to gun him down on the Brooklyn Bridge, where he fell to his death. Noone could have survived that fall. However, no body has been recovered. Dark Knight, if he is still alive - and I believe he is - seems to be targeting organized crime, starting with money laundering operations.
“Third, is going to be a very tough, possibly impossible assignment. There is a metahuman known only as Random Stranger. Sometimes it is a male; sometimes female. He’s been spotted all over NYC, but most often and with the longest history, in the Brooklyn area.
“Fourth, reports of a car thief that has been eluding police. Every time they get close, he loses them. We believe he is using a metahuman ability to alter, cloak or transport the cars. The closest the police have come was custom auto mechanic’s shop that may be the front for a chop shop.
“Your jobs? Locate them and make a preliminary assessment. If they are obviously criminal, capture. And the monster … use your best discretion. Just be careful not to drag a fight into the public where collateral damage will include civilians.”
Valor Green
The Seer of Heart and the Queen of Hipsters
Valerie sat casually in her seat as she heard the briefing. She had decided to dress rather informally today, having grown tired of putting on airs the previously. She wore a bright white hoodie and a simple purple skirt over black leggings. The hoodie was largely blank aside from a red equidistant cross on the right side of the chest - a reference to a knightly order of bygone crusades. Her mind was somewhat distant, shown by the small smirk on her face. Since the previous day, she'd been repeating in her mind the codename she had suggested to be her own. At first, she considered the name Uriel, as it literally meant 'Light of God', but at the thought of one day meeting the namesake angel, she felt it may be in poor taste. A girl can dream, can't she? The next idea which popped into her mind was Lightbearer, but she felt it to be a bit too obvious. Then, it struck her: if any title were in need of a new holder in Heaven, which would it be? That abandoned by the fallen angel himself - Morningstar.
The moniker rung in her head much to her chagrin, but she broke from her thought in order to focus on the missions. A helpful vigilante and a formless stranger seemed like trivial assignments at best, and the car thief seemed simply petty. A monster hunt sounded like an interesting mission, and it may provide the most opportunity to make use of her powers. Should she be given a choice, she knew clearly which it would be. She was eager to prove herself in combat and to make real use of her sword for the first time. She took a quick look around the table, picking out a few choice faces. There were some people present she believed, based on their dossiers, may be helpful in some of her scientific endeavors, but that would have to wait until later.
The moniker rung in her head much to her chagrin, but she broke from her thought in order to focus on the missions. A helpful vigilante and a formless stranger seemed like trivial assignments at best, and the car thief seemed simply petty. A monster hunt sounded like an interesting mission, and it may provide the most opportunity to make use of her powers. Should she be given a choice, she knew clearly which it would be. She was eager to prove herself in combat and to make real use of her sword for the first time. She took a quick look around the table, picking out a few choice faces. There were some people present she believed, based on their dossiers, may be helpful in some of her scientific endeavors, but that would have to wait until later.
Jays
That Loitering God
(OOC: This's for Mitheral. I know you said the characters should not be unstable and dangerous, so I just want to clarify that Jason is neither unstable nor dangerous, but tormented by guilt, and only so when his mind is weak, which is not often. He's no danger to anyone but himself. You'll get it when you see it.)
The introductions passed by like a whirlwind, confusing and brief. With every elder member, the stories are the same: an old legend, humble and pleasure to do what's right, anyone would just do the same, blah blab blah. The privilege of rich people, that's what they were. He couldn't actually reember any of them at that point, except for that comic guy Nick Dangers and the ladies that gave him lunch. Funny how absurd things can be related to human, he thought. Or metahuman. Or whatever they call themself nowaday, he didn't know. Jason put his face in his hand and rub the bridge of his nose. He felt very tired. More than that, he felt....lost. The feeling of belonging was fleeting, and it didn't take long before he realise how different he was, even among his people. His people. Huh. Sounds way fancier just a few hours ago. It's not because his life is the only tragedic story, because it's not, and it sure as hell not the worst one in this madhouse of a base. It's how he chose to deal with it. All these people, they chose to stand up and fight, to change who they are, but him? He gave up. Just straight up abandoned hope. Jason sighed for the countless time that day. He saw Dr. Johanson glanced at him a few times but ignored his looks.
The next hours was even less registering in his memory than before. He met up with the team and receive some equipments,may be? He didn't pay much attention, just do wat they told him to do and move on. Meeting up with the team was a little more clear. He was able to remember them, and one glance told him all about their personalities. The introduction part, all he said was: "Hi. I'm Jason. Call me JC." and let them get on without him.
By the time he was walking down the hall toward his room, led by Dr. Johanson who took it upon himself to be Jason's guide, he was deadly tired. He couldn't even spare any energy to hate the guy for being so nice, introducing him to the quarters and buildings on the way. When they reached the room that was assigned to him, he politely excused himself from the doctor and shut the door on his face.
The place was a tidy and small space, an one-person room with a small bathroom in the far corner. A medium-size wardrobe sat by the door on his right. Very nice place, he thought, if he actually get a chance to use all of it. The room was double the size the place he had back home. Jason threw his duffle bag that contains all his possession on the floor, get out of his outer clothes and climb on the bed, intended on sleeping right away. Until one problem presented itself: he couldn't sleep. Troubled, he turns restlessly in his bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, but there was none on the new uncomfortably comfortable bed. Resigned, he sat up and get out of bed. Might as well do something useful, he thought.
Jason cleared the area in the middle of the room, took out his collapsible staff, and started practicing. Fifteen minutes later, he stood panting, now impossibly tired. And by mistake, he looked down at the burn scar on his left forearm. His mind was weak, and the memories chose that moment to attack, All the horrible images returned at once, flooding his mind and brought him down on his knees. He could hear his father screams in different voices, his personas fighting for control as he burned alive. He could see the desperate look on his mother's face, rushing to his father's side, trying to save the monster that had tormented her for years instead of her innoccent son. And he remember running from it all, throwing himself away from the truth he did not want to accept. Then everything went up in flame.
He did not remember sleeping, but he woke up on his back on the floor, his torso still bare and the staff griped tightly in his hand. It was 6.00 AM and his phone was playing the alarm "The Eyes of the Tiger". Grudgingly, Jason got on his feet and went into the bathroom for a shower. He was already clothed and slung his staff in its holder behind his back when there was a knock on the door. It was Dr. Johanson again. This time he was glad to be next to another human being, and did not refuse to talk when the doctor cheerfully led him to breakfast and briefing.
The introductions passed by like a whirlwind, confusing and brief. With every elder member, the stories are the same: an old legend, humble and pleasure to do what's right, anyone would just do the same, blah blab blah. The privilege of rich people, that's what they were. He couldn't actually reember any of them at that point, except for that comic guy Nick Dangers and the ladies that gave him lunch. Funny how absurd things can be related to human, he thought. Or metahuman. Or whatever they call themself nowaday, he didn't know. Jason put his face in his hand and rub the bridge of his nose. He felt very tired. More than that, he felt....lost. The feeling of belonging was fleeting, and it didn't take long before he realise how different he was, even among his people. His people. Huh. Sounds way fancier just a few hours ago. It's not because his life is the only tragedic story, because it's not, and it sure as hell not the worst one in this madhouse of a base. It's how he chose to deal with it. All these people, they chose to stand up and fight, to change who they are, but him? He gave up. Just straight up abandoned hope. Jason sighed for the countless time that day. He saw Dr. Johanson glanced at him a few times but ignored his looks.
The next hours was even less registering in his memory than before. He met up with the team and receive some equipments,may be? He didn't pay much attention, just do wat they told him to do and move on. Meeting up with the team was a little more clear. He was able to remember them, and one glance told him all about their personalities. The introduction part, all he said was: "Hi. I'm Jason. Call me JC." and let them get on without him.
By the time he was walking down the hall toward his room, led by Dr. Johanson who took it upon himself to be Jason's guide, he was deadly tired. He couldn't even spare any energy to hate the guy for being so nice, introducing him to the quarters and buildings on the way. When they reached the room that was assigned to him, he politely excused himself from the doctor and shut the door on his face.
The place was a tidy and small space, an one-person room with a small bathroom in the far corner. A medium-size wardrobe sat by the door on his right. Very nice place, he thought, if he actually get a chance to use all of it. The room was double the size the place he had back home. Jason threw his duffle bag that contains all his possession on the floor, get out of his outer clothes and climb on the bed, intended on sleeping right away. Until one problem presented itself: he couldn't sleep. Troubled, he turns restlessly in his bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, but there was none on the new uncomfortably comfortable bed. Resigned, he sat up and get out of bed. Might as well do something useful, he thought.
Jason cleared the area in the middle of the room, took out his collapsible staff, and started practicing. Fifteen minutes later, he stood panting, now impossibly tired. And by mistake, he looked down at the burn scar on his left forearm. His mind was weak, and the memories chose that moment to attack, All the horrible images returned at once, flooding his mind and brought him down on his knees. He could hear his father screams in different voices, his personas fighting for control as he burned alive. He could see the desperate look on his mother's face, rushing to his father's side, trying to save the monster that had tormented her for years instead of her innoccent son. And he remember running from it all, throwing himself away from the truth he did not want to accept. Then everything went up in flame.
He did not remember sleeping, but he woke up on his back on the floor, his torso still bare and the staff griped tightly in his hand. It was 6.00 AM and his phone was playing the alarm "The Eyes of the Tiger". Grudgingly, Jason got on his feet and went into the bathroom for a shower. He was already clothed and slung his staff in its holder behind his back when there was a knock on the door. It was Dr. Johanson again. This time he was glad to be next to another human being, and did not refuse to talk when the doctor cheerfully led him to breakfast and briefing.
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Elegy
I am the bone of my sword
"I see"
Jaraxus said, tossing around the possible assignments he was to look into in his head. That is, if he was accepted. Jaraxus felt slight tinges on apprehension setting in his mind now and then, but he was confident he would make the cut. Danger's comment on the group looking forward to review him gave Jaraxus confidence.
" Are there many more recruits reviewed with me sir? And the metahumans we deal with what sort of powers can they use? Can they hurt us?
Jaraxus looked forward to meeting the many other metahumans and was curious as to what their powers were. Just how powerful and how extreme was the nature of a metahuman? Could one of them turn into a monster? Breathe fire? Freeze things?
Jaraxus's curiosity was piqued, and he blurted out these questions with a slight stammer, the apprehension of the review and the fact that he was talking to a living legend was starting to make him feel nervous. Jaraxus sensed that he was almost at his destination and wrought his hands together in apprehensive anticipation. His thoughts also wandered to his little brother, who was doing so fine in life now. Excellent grades and national merits for his scientific genius. Jaraxus planned to have Jake move into a new school in New York to keep in touch with him. Jaraxus was confident Jake would be accepted into practically any school here. Of course, Jaraxus was somewhat naive, he did not not even consider the fact that an enemy might attack Jake.
Jaraxus said, tossing around the possible assignments he was to look into in his head. That is, if he was accepted. Jaraxus felt slight tinges on apprehension setting in his mind now and then, but he was confident he would make the cut. Danger's comment on the group looking forward to review him gave Jaraxus confidence.
" Are there many more recruits reviewed with me sir? And the metahumans we deal with what sort of powers can they use? Can they hurt us?
Jaraxus looked forward to meeting the many other metahumans and was curious as to what their powers were. Just how powerful and how extreme was the nature of a metahuman? Could one of them turn into a monster? Breathe fire? Freeze things?
Jaraxus's curiosity was piqued, and he blurted out these questions with a slight stammer, the apprehension of the review and the fact that he was talking to a living legend was starting to make him feel nervous. Jaraxus sensed that he was almost at his destination and wrought his hands together in apprehensive anticipation. His thoughts also wandered to his little brother, who was doing so fine in life now. Excellent grades and national merits for his scientific genius. Jaraxus planned to have Jake move into a new school in New York to keep in touch with him. Jaraxus was confident Jake would be accepted into practically any school here. Of course, Jaraxus was somewhat naive, he did not not even consider the fact that an enemy might attack Jake.
Pattycakes
Junior Member
The previous day, after breakfast, had been a steady blur for John. He followed the pack as they moved around the facilities, but there was little excitement or anything of interest during the time. When he received the DVD, he went home and privately watched through the dossiers, getting some sense of familiarity with what the rest of the team was capable of.
The next morning, he was back up early again and arriving to the Institute by 0800 in time for the briefing, skipping the breakfast on base and opting to eat at home. John listened with dull interest as Mrs. Carnegie went through her briefing. Monster, vigilante, car thief...did they really need an entire team to stop these issues? John figured that he alone could probably have taken care of at least the vigilante and the car thief.
Random Stranger peaked his interest, however. There was a notable lack of information about him. It seemed like the sort of work he would expect. When the briefing had ended, several of the others stated questions first, including Legion, someone who had very interesting powers according to the dossier. "Pardon me, Mrs. Carnegie, but I have a few follow up questions. Why are we looking into the Random Stranger? Is he a danger? Regarding his appearance, has he always appeared as the same male and female? And, if we're requesting cases, the Random Stranger would be the one I'd like."
The next morning, he was back up early again and arriving to the Institute by 0800 in time for the briefing, skipping the breakfast on base and opting to eat at home. John listened with dull interest as Mrs. Carnegie went through her briefing. Monster, vigilante, car thief...did they really need an entire team to stop these issues? John figured that he alone could probably have taken care of at least the vigilante and the car thief.
Random Stranger peaked his interest, however. There was a notable lack of information about him. It seemed like the sort of work he would expect. When the briefing had ended, several of the others stated questions first, including Legion, someone who had very interesting powers according to the dossier. "Pardon me, Mrs. Carnegie, but I have a few follow up questions. Why are we looking into the Random Stranger? Is he a danger? Regarding his appearance, has he always appeared as the same male and female? And, if we're requesting cases, the Random Stranger would be the one I'd like."
Mitheral
"Growf!"
Amaretta held up her hand more to quell a dozen requests of the same sort. She nodded to Dr Federson. “That is not going to be my call. For now, I am turning the team over to Mr Stevens. James?” She turned to look at James Stevens aka Micronaut.
James stood up. If one didn’t know better one might have thought him to be fully confident of the announcement. And he almost certainly had to have been spoken to before the meeting. But those who had known him awhile knew he was anything but. For one, although he had been working on doing away with the bad habit of rolling his shoulders forward stubbornly when he confronted a particularly difficult problem, they were forward ever so slightly.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded and glanced around looking everyone in the eyes briefly. It gave him a moment to compose his thoughts. “I am your Team Captain - not Leader. This change is temporary for two major reason. One is my age. I am still distracted by thoughts such as college …” he glanced at Jennifer, “... and a fiance. But I do have the experience of 4 solid years of training for this, plus some field experience. As Captain, you’ll have the benefit. In the field, however my size is going to be an issue. It is a little hard to inspire when you are an inch tall.
“Okay then … to it. Even an area as small as Brooklyn is still a large area. Major, I will need Shadowhawk and Janice. I also know how you feel about it, but we really could use Zhan.”
Amaretta shook her head. “Not Zhan. And I know what you want him for. Not an option. He’s too new. Shadowhawk … definitely. I can guess why. Janice is on medical. If you use her, it needs to be in a non combat capacity.”
James listened, and nodded. He wasn’t surprised by the answer. “Okay then. Now all targets are viable assignments. However, in the case of our monster, do not engage unless she is attacking. Perched and looking like she might will NOT be good enough. I have my reasons for the assignments. They will be based more on patrol times and regions, as well as squad mobility.”
“Monster - I hate that name - Shadowhawk and Arachne.” He shook his head when Jennifer started to object. “Not this time. I’m needed elsewhere. Both of you are nocturnal and every sighting of the monster has been at night. Matt, try not to let my fiance get hurt.
“Dark Knight - Myself and Janice. Hold your questions and complaints please everyone. He seems to be nocturnal as well, but that may just be because the people he is after have nocturnal habits. He’s been targeting money laundering operations by organized crime - mainly down by the port in the west of the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“The car thief - Morningstar, Burst and Mr Schuyler. You will have to figure out how to track him and capture him. Odds are this guy uses a police scanner. He drives like he has real racing experience. So your task is just to spot the guy and call for backup unless you happen to spot him stopped somewhere.
“Finally, Random Stranger - yes, I had you in mind for that. I am sending Ms Volkova with you. As you might imagine, she is accustomed to teleportation. Random Stranger has a tendency of vanishing. No idea what advice to give here. To answer your question - impossible to tell. No pictures and all the descriptions have been a bit incomplete. This much we do know. Random Stranger seems to be helping people - and in general is not a vigilante. I am going to guess that it is a female person of interest we are looking for. The higher percentage of sightings have been female. The few times we have tried to chase her down we have lost the trail in an alley. What we normally find is some homeless bag lady or janitor. Oh yes, Random Stranger can fly.”
“Now then … questions?”
James stood up. If one didn’t know better one might have thought him to be fully confident of the announcement. And he almost certainly had to have been spoken to before the meeting. But those who had known him awhile knew he was anything but. For one, although he had been working on doing away with the bad habit of rolling his shoulders forward stubbornly when he confronted a particularly difficult problem, they were forward ever so slightly.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded and glanced around looking everyone in the eyes briefly. It gave him a moment to compose his thoughts. “I am your Team Captain - not Leader. This change is temporary for two major reason. One is my age. I am still distracted by thoughts such as college …” he glanced at Jennifer, “... and a fiance. But I do have the experience of 4 solid years of training for this, plus some field experience. As Captain, you’ll have the benefit. In the field, however my size is going to be an issue. It is a little hard to inspire when you are an inch tall.
“Okay then … to it. Even an area as small as Brooklyn is still a large area. Major, I will need Shadowhawk and Janice. I also know how you feel about it, but we really could use Zhan.”
Amaretta shook her head. “Not Zhan. And I know what you want him for. Not an option. He’s too new. Shadowhawk … definitely. I can guess why. Janice is on medical. If you use her, it needs to be in a non combat capacity.”
James listened, and nodded. He wasn’t surprised by the answer. “Okay then. Now all targets are viable assignments. However, in the case of our monster, do not engage unless she is attacking. Perched and looking like she might will NOT be good enough. I have my reasons for the assignments. They will be based more on patrol times and regions, as well as squad mobility.”
“Monster - I hate that name - Shadowhawk and Arachne.” He shook his head when Jennifer started to object. “Not this time. I’m needed elsewhere. Both of you are nocturnal and every sighting of the monster has been at night. Matt, try not to let my fiance get hurt.
“Dark Knight - Myself and Janice. Hold your questions and complaints please everyone. He seems to be nocturnal as well, but that may just be because the people he is after have nocturnal habits. He’s been targeting money laundering operations by organized crime - mainly down by the port in the west of the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“The car thief - Morningstar, Burst and Mr Schuyler. You will have to figure out how to track him and capture him. Odds are this guy uses a police scanner. He drives like he has real racing experience. So your task is just to spot the guy and call for backup unless you happen to spot him stopped somewhere.
“Finally, Random Stranger - yes, I had you in mind for that. I am sending Ms Volkova with you. As you might imagine, she is accustomed to teleportation. Random Stranger has a tendency of vanishing. No idea what advice to give here. To answer your question - impossible to tell. No pictures and all the descriptions have been a bit incomplete. This much we do know. Random Stranger seems to be helping people - and in general is not a vigilante. I am going to guess that it is a female person of interest we are looking for. The higher percentage of sightings have been female. The few times we have tried to chase her down we have lost the trail in an alley. What we normally find is some homeless bag lady or janitor. Oh yes, Random Stranger can fly.”
“Now then … questions?”
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Valor Green
The Seer of Heart and the Queen of Hipsters
Valerie gave a small grin at the use of her codename. It certainly had a ring to it. She wasn't exactly satisfied with her assignment, but she thought it better not to complain. After teams were all picked out, she began formulating a plan for her assignment. With a glance at each of her cohorts, she knew she'd have to make it work with the cryokinetic (Mister Schuyler) and the ergokinetic (Burst). She knew she'd have to work with them a bit before the mission to get a better grasp on their abilities and plan effectively.
