Realistic or Modern The Capes

[Hex]

Our Story

Sometime during the early 2000's, the world as we knew it began to change. It started with rumors, stories about seemingly ordinary people performing amazing feats. Stories ranged from people flying, to shooting beams of light from their eyes, or walking through walls. Most people thought these were idle fantasies, stories from science fiction or the kind of stuff found in comic books. However, the sightings continued until what was once considered rumor became fact: humans were beginning to evolve. Soon the stories were on every news channel accompanied with videos to prove these so called 'mutants' existed. Many questions were spawned in the wake of this revelation:


Why was this happening? And what happens next?


Some have embraced the evolution, claiming they will change the world for the better. Others have reacted with fear and panic, afraid of what thesefreaks would be capable of. Many of those afflicted were left wondering "what should I do now?" Do they continue living their lives like they always have, hoping no one would discover their secret? Or do they start using their powers to make the world a better place? Or use their powers to destroy it? Many were left with this decision.


With the arrival of these Superhumans, the Government acted fast. To help motivate the creation of Superheroes, they created the Metahuman law enforcement and protection agency, or simply the Agency. This group was set up secretly by the government to monitor the Superhumans, as well as to protect and uphold the laws. On its surface, however, it simply appears to be a government funded superhero group dedicated to fighting crime. Their goal is to prevent any further destruction at the hands of fiends and villains. Those derelict Superhumans run rampant through the streets, abusing their amazing abilities for selfish and destructive means. Behind the scenes, the government works to herald Superheroes as celebrities. They are beloved and respected, in exchange for their service and protection. As for Supervillains, they are scorned and hated. From manipulating news reports to exaggerating stories, the government wishes to ensure that the life of a Supervillain is made as difficult as possible.


The year is 2049. Portside is as lively and hectic as ever, especially with all the Superhumans running about. Our story begins here, and our tale now unfolds....

Read more about this role play...

 

[CrimsonBanchee]

Vanessa sat in her chair and looked at her papers. She had too much going through her pretty blonde head. She had been planing something big. She had her fingers twirling around a little box full of diamonds from last hunt. She smiled and pressed a button. "Hold my calls im going to be off." She said to the microphone and stood up. She closed her brown eyes as they turn green. Her hair grew longer and black as her skin tone became tanner. She smiled as her face became fuller. Scanning her hand on a wall and walked through the door putting on her villain clothes. "Lets go and have fun." She said grabbing the staff.

 

[Sea]

A lovely-looking woman walked into the second floor with her familiar steps of confidence brimming with each second. At 5'4, it was hard not to feel threatened by the taller people around her. However, she made up for it by inconspicuously flaunting her slim, but curvy figure. She was wearing a tight deep emerald blouse with the sleeves fashionably folded up. Her hand gun was held secure at her waist, some throwing knives were hidden cleverly along her belt and others were inside of her blazer-like jacket. Her switchblade was disguised as a decorative hair accessory used to hold her deep red hair in a messy bun. A few loose curls framed her face, drawing attention to her sharp tawny eyes. She had wanted to wear something dressy or pretty, but after what happened last time she tried to, she decided it was best to go with practical pants and boots. She didn't want to go persuading someone to trade pants with her again. That was a one-in-a-lifetime thing.


"Good morning. Your coffee, Miss Holmes," a perky voice said, gently holding out the cup of iced coffee with a green straw mulling on the edge. Megan took the cup graciously as she walked by her secretary's desk. "Thank you, Janice. Same to you." Her secretary had made several mistakes when she had started working. First, she called her Miss Stockholm, which Megan quickly lectured her about. Then she kept bringing the investigator black coffee, which caused Megan to become as bitter as the dark drink itself. The woman was sure to make herself very clear when defining what she wanted and expected out of someone. However, over time, secretary and investigator had formed a mutual bond of professional efficiency that they were both quite proud of.


She entered into her office, collapsing into her chair and dropping her bag beside it. This morning had been expectedly uneventful in the worst way possible. No one made any effort to speak with her until she got to the Agency building, where they sort of had to talk to her. She felt absolutely ignored this morning, despite her efforts to cheer herself up with the promise of coffee. If Janice hadn't brought in that cup...she might have had to go home. She was selfish, and a brat in truth. But she didn't really let that part become too prominent at the workplace. She usually kept to her observant self unless she saw one of her closer friends. People were interesting when they thought they weren't being observed.


Shaking her head, she turned on the laptop that sat coolly on her desk. She had to write up a report for what-seemed-like a crime scene from a few days ago. After further evidence, it turned out that the cause of an old woman hurt was the effect of a combined efforts by her cats. It was horribly entertaining and amusing to Megan, who found it hard to keep the report mockery-free. The old woman wasn't killed or murdered, just hurt her leg. It wasn't anything serious, but the circumstances were just so that many were convinced it was the work of a villain. She wondered if she would have the fun of investigating today.

 

[icantchoosenameswell]

This warehouse is cold... Lucas sighed to himself, frustrated. Stupid Agency, restricting my movements with their "lawmen" all over the place. Can't even blow myself up for warmth! Lucas shrugged and went back to work on his newest breed of bomb. He added his last bit of gunpowder and bundled his other bombs around it. He welded the metal and looked at his work. Only one shot, but it'll be pretty great. He sighed again, rummaging through his other boxes. I need to go on a raid soon... Almost out of fuel, too. He grabbed his jet pack, a dozen handfuls of bombs and grenades, and his rocket launcher, and headed out.

 

[robot wolf]

I straped on my wings put on my suit turned around ran twords the window and jumped out. [This is fun] I think to myself


"Sir there is suspitious activity in sector 8" said James my butler/person that tells me everything. I reajusted my wings and flew twords sector 8