Archetype Role Play
You wake up from your day. It's a normal day, just like any other day. You don't know if it's going to be a grand adventure or just another boring day in your life. Things seem to be going normally within the first few moments of your life. It's time for you to learn that there are more things in Heaven and Earth that are dreamt of in your philosophy.
"We cannot let these people menace our communities any longer. It's been a God send that there hasn't been some kind of national disaster like September 11th from these people. It's not just a national security risk that this threat represents, it's not just our lives, it's our freedom and maybe even our Democracy that's at stake!" There were jeers coming at the old man speaking. The debate continued. . . A man from the right of the speaker, who was listening with a frown, responded from the lecturn. "This is a Civil Rights issue. We can't let the fears against a minority group force us into taking irresponsible measures against the very values that we feel are threatened."
Art silently rose from his sleep, eyes still closed and semi-long black hair covering his monotonic expression. He ran his right hand through his scruffy hair, straightening out most of it, before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and standing up. His dorm room was the same as every night; small, cold, and incredibly neat. Everything was in the right place, except for the covers on his bed, and the television was still on, showcasing a paused menu of the game 'Dark Souls'. Absent-mindedly, Art turned off the X-Box 360 with his right toe before dragging himself over to the closet.
A black, average hoodie, ragged jeans, and work boots. His average clothing for any day. Art threw on the clothes, taking care to use the minor nerves in his paralyzed left arm to slip on the jacket and t-shirt. While the arm was paralyzed and usually just hanged on his body, enhancing his slouchy-tall stature, he could actually move it a bit. Not much, but just enough to put on clothes.
After pulling on his clothing and brushing his teeth, combing his hair, and shit like that, Arty locked his door and exited campus. He could skip a day of university. He didn't really feel like doing anything today.
Jacob woke up in the same extremely cluttered room that he always had. In the same house that he always had. He woke up early in the morning, at 6:45 AM, instead of going to the computer or to play a video game or study, he went to the television just to see the News at first. he went to channel 47, Fox. . . He turned it on and saw something unusual. . . was that Ian McDiarmid on the Senate Floor? This is weird, why are they letting another celebrity speak? Stephen Colbert was not amusing, and Jake was kind of miffed, they mixed up the channels again.
Jake forgot the mail yesterday, so he went to the mail box early. He silently closed the door so he wouldn't wake anyone up and sat down in front of the television with the news paper in his hands. Aw, let's see. . . "November? When did it get November so fast? Election? That's not until 2016? Huh? They're still talking about an Economic Recovery? What? Well if those numbers are true, then that's good." He kept looking through a lot of things that just seemed WEIRD. . . Stark Industries? Wayne Enterprises? Alrighty. . . Neat coincidences. . .
Suddenly, screaming from the television got Jake's attention. . . that was. . . Snow Flake, Arizona. . . "What the Hell?"
"Several terrrorist groups are suspected for the massacre of nearly the entire Town of Snow Flake, Arizona. . . this is the greatest loss of life on American Soil ever since the 2001 September 11th terrorist attacks that claimed nearly 3,000 American Lives at the Trade Center. Many questions remain, why here?" The News camera scans the countless bodies and burning rubble, and screams can still be heard. "Estimates report fewer than 400 survivors. . ."
Jason leapt out of bed, inside of a room chocked full of Kamen Rider and Super Sentai memorabilia, quickly getting dressed. Because it was still summer, he didn't have school to go to today, however, that's not why he was so excited "today's the day; TV Nihon finally releases the subbed version of Super Hero Taisen! Oh man, I've been waiting so long for this, I can't wait any more! This is going to be so awesome!!!" Downing a quick bowl of cereal, Jason checked online for the movie, but it haddn't been posted yet "oh well, It's still early in the morning, guess it was a bit much to hope that it'd be up by now. Oh well, I can finish the rest of Fourze while I wait"
"What the fuck, Al-Qaida?" Jake said, exasperrated. He said it in a medium volume, high enough to convey his surprise, but low enough not to be heard by other people in the House. "Snow Flake? That's the place with the Mormon Temple, it's not too far from hear. . . Hell, this is terrible. . . four and a half thousand people . . . " Nine Elleven would prove to have wounded the finance of America, but this was a bigger loss of life, and it upset Jake. . . it was even in his home state of Arizona. "Ughh."
Vox woke up in the ally she normally slept in. While others enjoyed the life-style of sleeping in a luxurious bed she was out on the streets peddling drugs to addicts, feeding their habit and regretting every decision she made. As she walked around to find a buyer, she noticed something odd. Something in the air, that just wasn't quite right. Of coarse it didn't matter, since Vox was used to odd things, but this just felt... different.
Vox always could read when things weren't right. She just had a nack for it.
After searching around the University's parking lot for his automobile, Art finally found it, parked near one of the trees at the entrance. He unlocked the doors before entering the car and slumping down into the driver's seat. While it wasn't very...cool-looking, at least it worked. A rusty grey-ish color, with multiple dents all around the bumper and passenger-seat door. There was only two doors, and the room inside of the car was very tight and annoying.
However, Art didn't really care about looks. It wasn't as if he had any friends who would hang out with him. Shrugging, the lanky student flipped on the AC, bundled himself up in his baggy hoodie, and turned on the radio. As he cruised through the city, making sure to stop at stop signs and red lights, he slowly turned his attention back to the news.
"Estimates report fewer than 400 survivors. . ."
Art turned back to the radio, interest in his eyes. Something was bombed? Destroyed? He turned up the volume...
As Jason was on the computer, he heard a disturbing line of dialog from his radio "this is the greatest loss of life on American Soil ever since the 2001 September 11th terrorist attacks that claimed nearly 3,000 American Lives"
"Wait, what!?" He jumped onto his feet and rushed to the radio "what the hell is going on!?"
Vox continued to walk around. She saw a car pass with a man in it that had a hoodie. 'Lucky' she thought to herself jealously. She hadn't heard about the bombing yet. Vox looked in a mirror. Tattered and ratty. That's how she looked. She laughed. People with showers. How... quaint. Though inside she was secretly wishing she had one of her own.
A 21 year old man awoke in his bed, which was in his apartment in New York. Or so he described it on the internet more than once to piss of grammar nazi's. It was a rather messy place with many large books lying around, clothes all over the floor, and the mantelpiece covered with old Asimov books. In one corner, close to the ceiling, a glass-carbon plated case which held his most prized possession. An original copy of the Foundation Trilogy, Volume 1 from Gnome Press, AND signed by Issac Asimov himself. The man looked at it as he always did in the mornings. It was getting kind of dusty. The man put his feet on the ground, and got up, and examined the tonne of clothing on the ground. There was a pair of yellow jeans, somewhere in there, which he had bought when he was fifteen. Lord knew why he still had it. I didn't even FIT him.
The young man's name was Artemis Fox. A weird but cool name, as he thought. Many smart people, who were rare to find now, often commented on the fact that Artemis was a female name. He answered with the fact that it was a female gods name, and a god could choose his/her appearance. He was a physicist who worked at the audacious Bell Labs, one of the pioneering science labs of the world, on par with even CERN.
There was a telly on a a table connected to an XBox 360, as well as a Dreamcast. His childhood on a table. He grabbed the remote, and turned the TV. At once he noticed that the News was frantically showing something about a terrorist attack that was a lot like September 11. He grunted, and twitched, remembering the noise from that day. He had been visiting back then, when it happened. He got up, and paced around the room, trying not to step on anything. He didn't know what his reaction would have to be.
He turned on Netflix and started watching Evangelion