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Patrick Bateman
Here, the hammer-stroke will fall hardest. (Gifted/Normal) (BOWELS and SPADII)
(THIS ISN'T MY BEST, but I tried! I got quite busy yesterday, and I was pretty excited for this roleplay, so I sort of just slopped it all together. I assure you, my responses are far better! <3)
Frasier, Maine was a budding city. Known for its exports and imports, the waterside residence was booming, and by the end of summer the population was estimated to have escalated to an astounding 200,000 people. While the sprouting city was commonly related to with praise, it came coupled with concern—concern for the growing poverty, mischief, and ‘unexplainable events’, as the media preferred to call it. The community, though, was teeming with secrets that it was far from revealing.
Marilyn Shepard was as un-native as they came, and just as any other foreigner to the developing harbor, she was none the wiser to the city’s inner workings.
She breathed in, then out, deeply. The air tasted different, and the unfamiliarity of it almost made her lungs tickle. As the years wound on, she’d never come to value the difference in salt—the way the ocean’s waves were sent hurling through the atmosphere and nestling into people’s senses. After returning from a 9 month absence, it felt awkward, as if her lungs had become intolerant to the Atlantic’s breeze.
The length of her absence was growing with each year. Her father, Lloyd Shepard, had sent Marilyn, his first and only child, to boarding school for the first time when she was 12; an all girls’ boarding school that settled near the less vacated shores of the Pacific Ocean in California. Her mother, Cindy, had passed away only a month before, and though Marilyn (being the hot-headed tween she had ben) threw as much of a fit as she could possibly muster, her father sent her off, assuring her it was all for the best. There had been a time, perhaps sooner than 5 years ago, that he would’ve never dreamed of making her spend the holidays alone, but as she got older, and he became deeper embedded in his job, the necessity of her coming home became less and less. Now, she only spent the summer at home—though it’d been so much time she began to think of her home more as the boarding school.
Her very bright, barely green eyes focused on the black, spiked gate that surrounded her. 5 years ago, she pined for nothing more than to cozy up against one of the grand pillars of her big home and stare out at the street; now the image was distorted by the gaudy, forbidding fence that kept her in. Words couldn’t describe how bound she felt.
A large, beige Chow-Chow barked into the thick of the night, suddenly perking from his resting spot on the soft grass. His curly tail rustled and he hustled in skirmishing circles near the front of the gate. When his current master, Marilyn, didn’t respond, he bellowed out even louder.
“Brutus!” she chided frantically and scuttled down to him. “Be quiet—Dad will wake up!”
Either ignoring hushed commands or just too excited, he barked again, his fat paw scratching at the front of the gate enthusiastically. He turned round to meet her eyes with his big, black beady ones. Though he was big and hulking, with an equally buff name to boot, he was kind, and looked much more like a teddy bear. It made her heart melt, the way he sought after her, wanting nothing more than one simple thing.
Defeated, she sighed and shook her head. Marilyn swept down to her knees and stroked his thick, shaggy fur, and he whimpered desperately.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” she apologized sullenly, “I can’t do that. If you run, I run, and then… well, you know how Pop feels about me leaving the house.”
It was forbidden, to say the least.
Brutus looked up at her, and sensing the mood shift, licked her face. When she gave a small, delighted giggle, the muscles rippled in his thick body, and he looked to the engulfing gate once again. His legs began to warm up, kicking back determinedly, and when the canine found its courage, he catapulted himself through the front, tearing the iron from its hinges.
Marilyn yelped, shocked. When Brutus tore down the street, in pursuit of something, she panicked. If she left the home and her father found out, she’d be in sore trouble, but if she let Brutus get lost, she’d never forgive herself. Therefore, after cursing under her breath, her bare feet pounded against the pavement after him, multitasking with pulling her light brown, slightly curled hair into a high ponytail. She looked a little odd—dashing through the streets after a rampant dog at 11 o’clock at night in nothing but a deep purple sweatshirt and comfy, black short-shorts—but as her dog’s trail began to carry her deeper into the swell of Frasier, she began to see much weirder things.
Near a dark alley, her dog began to patter to a slow, and he bellowed out successfully. This part of town didn’t look safe; in fact, from how little she’d seen of it in the past five years, none of it looked secure. Nonetheless, she carried on, holding her breath and nervously twiddling her fingers in front of her. She braced herself for the worst.
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The Spazztic Kelp
The years passed by slowly with little action that played in the lives of the citizens in Frasier. Not many people actually dwelled in adventures or expeditions of finding the mysterious in the city. It wasn't true for everyone though. Two young men have lived their lives wild and free in the streets amongst the gangs and thugs. They were part of this group of misfits for many years, but the oldest of the two wasn't the first to join. Jermiah Acosta had never been one for fighting because he was well aware of the consequences, but over all he found no real reason to beat someone. There was an exception to his rule: his brother. Alan Acosta was a very roudy boy since the moment he left the womb. Never once did he fail to interest any, if not all, women he came across. Yet he wasn't always crazy because his brother kept him in check.
Jeremiah was born three years, before Alan, with a father who was insanely abusive and a mother who was someone suicidal. It was very hard to live up with these kinds of people who never were home so he ran away. Of course it was a young age, but the days were dark and anything was better than hiding under a bed; waiting for the threat to fall asleep drunk and laid out on the floor. His dirty blond hair brought many eyes his way because there were many brunettes amongst the streets, and if it wasn't for that one difference he wouldn't have never met a small boy with frightened brown eyes and a patch of hair sticking up in one direction.
His name was Alan and he was only six years old when he met a boy who was nine. The younger of the two had been chased down that day so it was an easy fix where Jeremiah immediately became the protective brother. Punches flew, and kicks arouse but it was a large wind storm that allowed the boys to escape. The source of such dark clouds was annonymous, but the color of grey in Jeremiah's eyes said otherwise. The beginning of his power filled days. At first the eldest gained these powers only through rushed emotions, but soon enough he began mastering the art of the sky; combing back clouds for sunny days or hard core rain to dwell hard on a deprived ground in need of refreshments. Alan on the other hand found his powers in the midst of a fight when he too turned nine. A few boys thought they could take up the slender male, but with a thick boot to his abdominal muscles a fire suddenly arose on his hands, immediately obliterating his opponents.
Years later and Alan soon became the top dog in a small gang of misfit people who also had a gift for the elements or anything else. Tattoos soon took over his right arm to signify his gift, but Jeremiah found it all to be way over their heads. It was apparent that they were going to get in major trouble, and so the responsible brother took to learning in a library not too far from the mayor's house where he began to teach himself on what was important to know in school. It wasn't long till Jeremiah was becoming interested in history, and mathematics, but he had no money to really go to school. Fortunately, the librarian was a tutor and even to this day Jeremiah goes to tutoring on subjects he had trouble with. It's as if he were going to an actual school while his brother wasted time getting drunk and drilling a nail deeper into his heart that stunk of beer filled dread.
It was a difficult road for the boys to travel because they were seperated often. Day in and day out they were growing further apart, but even in their darkest hour they keep to the code: no one gets left behind, or forgotten.
It was a lame evening with nothing to do in the streets but sit and wander about. Jeremiah was walking out the side of the library with a book he'd grown to love. He was now six foot even with a blank white shirt on and blue jeans over freshly cleaned white adidas. Alan waited in the middle of the alley with a buttoned down pinned stripe shirt and black slacks above his chunky skater adidas. His hair was slicked up in a swirl which he occasionally wiped at. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his tattoos, but the shiny bits gleamed on his white gauge.
"Jerrry!! What takes ya sooooo long?!" he shouted, watching his favorite person walk up so he could meet the same height that he was at. Jeremiah looked up briefly with a dull expression as he replied "Learning. Someone needs to make the means to keep a roof above our heads." The entire sentence hadn't even sunken into the young man's thick skull and the eldest already knew just as much. It was the blank look in his eyes that showed he was listening but not really comprehending. A feature I've grown to know all to well.... Jeremiah thought before returning to his book. Alan saw he was going no where with this conversation and dug his hands in his pockets. The younger of the two dwelled on what to eat tonight when he saw a familiar figure bound down the alley. "Spud!!" he shouted, racing down to meet the large chow who embraced him with just as much strength.
"You know this dog?" Jeremiah asked, curiously looking over the top of his novel. He had a small thing for dogs and chows were his utmost adored. Unfortunately his slowly growing smile dissapeared when Alan gave him a lazy grin that meant he was going to tell a lie. "Yeah I already know... It's the mayor's dog. I've seen it plenty of times... especially with you at the gate trying to feed him scraps" Jeremiah informed, cutting his brother completely off. Alan's eyes widened and a small blush curled up his skin for he knew he was busted.
"Sorry bro! I just... I've seen this dog all the time and no kid plays with it! Besides what am I supposed to do-"
"It's not yours Alan. I don't even know how the dog broke out of those hardcore fences..."
The brunette simply scoffed at his brother's words. It was obvious that something was up, but he felt affection towards this dog. Alan embraced the chow once more but froze when a figure entered the alleyway. "She's the owner. And before you say it, I know because in the library there are pictures of the Mayor and his daughter" Jeremiah called out, slowly but surely, placing emphasis on the word daughter and mayor with hopes his brother wouldn't hit on him. Sure enough Alan rose, completely ignoring the warning, with arms opened wide as well as fake concern plastered on his face. "Is this your dog? If it is then I see the beauty that the beast hides away behind such thick fences! Do you need help taking the dog back?" Alan called out, smilling gently as the chow licked at his side.
Last edited by Spadii; 03-20-2012 at 07:57 PM.
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Patrick Bateman
Upon seeing the two boys—the very questionable boys—her lips slowly twitched into a slow, exhausted smile. Finally, the uncirculated breath deflated from her lungs, and she shook her head. It wasn’t until her gait began to bleed into an amble that the throbbing in her bare feet became so obvious. With the unknown naivety that her father had forced upon her, she approached the pair confidently.
“Beast—him?” she chuckled, amused. The fact that he’d quite blatantly hit on her went unseen under her radar; going through puberty in a female boarding school didn’t equip the woman with the necessary arts of flirting—either that, or if she had noticed, she’d expertly evaded it. “He’s a sweetheart… I have no idea what got into him! If Brutus could talk,” she knelt down to Alan and her dog’s level and began to scratch his thick coat.
Her bright green eyes flickered up to meet Alan’s momentarily, and then Jeremiah’s. This was exciting; when she did leave the parameters, it was with her father, and it was extremely restricted. Now, she was out, alone, in the middle of the night and talking to two boys. For a brief moment, she wondered how old they were.
“I’m Marilyn,” she grinned, holding her hand out to shake Alan’s, “but just call me Marie.”
Calling Marilyn was practically a sin to her if the situation wasn’t formal. To her, there couldn’t be a name more uptight and caged than Marilyn.
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The Spazztic Kelp
Both Alan and Jeremiah waited for the girl to respond, but they each had their own expected reactions: Alan imagined she'd get into the game, but Jeremiah doubted it and pursued a road of slapping and cursing. That's when the girl spoke evenly as if the young man had not added an ounce of flirt in his choice of words. It actually surprised them both, but only Jeremiah could keep his cool while his brother stuttered over his words to reply. Apparently the girl had struck him out without even rejecting him! Poor Alan... Now he looks like an idiot.... the eldest thought, his eyes trailing off as the girl's attempted to meet his own. The book still was in his right hand, but now it covered his mouth so she couldn't see his lips pucker in awkwardness. Alan on the other hand watched her every move and didn't hesitate to take her hand in his. "Hiya Marie. The name's Alan Acosta, and that's my bro-in-arms Jeremiah. He's a nerdddd" he whispered the last part, and regained his composure but a small bit of him still was shaking off the beating received from his rejected flirt line. Of course Jeremiah over heard the word nerd and glared menacingly.
"Now now Jerrry! Don't give me those eyes!" Alan called out, raising his hands up to show surrender but his eyes were on Marie whom he gave a cocky 'Watch-this!' grin.
"At least I can grantee myself a job, and a life where I don't get my a$$ kicked around...." the response was one hardly used in verbal fights, and Jeremiah already saw what was coming. His brother's left eye twitched with flames beginning to grow on the corner of his eye. It lined up his entire eye lid before new flames picked up at his fingertips. "Take. It. Back." Alan growled, his carefree, cocky face dissapearing into a nasty snarl. The wind slowly picked up with the threat as clouds gathered in dark clumps like it was going to rain. Jeremiah stood taller as if he'd grown in the last few seconds, but as the alley grew darker the fire wasn't all that glowed for his eyes were a foggy, milky gray. "Alan, calm down. You know how i feel about fighting you...." he called out, taking two steps back and glancing at Marie. His expression was apologetic, but he wasn't aware that she'd never seen the gifted of the city. He merely felt bad that she was going to get caught up in something ugly.
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Patrick Bateman
Marilyn, while Alan and Jeremiah batted against one another, giggled lightheartedly. Overall, she was an easygoing gal, but she rarely was given the chance to befriend someone outside of the boarding school atmosphere; therefore, she was quite ecstatic to have met Alan and Jeremiah, even if normally awkward arguments ensued between them.
Alas, when she saw something peculiar, and the air began to shift, her heart skipped a beat.
Fire—stark flames—vined up Alan’s eyes. Little orange flickers licked from his fingertips, not at all extinguished by the rain which began to come down. At that moment, shocked, she glanced to Jeremiah, only to see his eyes churn into an unsettling gloom that paralleled to the newly developed clouds.
Her eyes widened; there was no way to hide her fright and astonishment.
“Oh my… Oh my God!” she shrieked, grasping onto Brutus tightly, as if to suppress some of the rattled nerves. “What are you two doing?! Are you okay?!”
She sprang up, and suddenly felt belittled by their size. In comparison, she only stood to a meager 5’4”, and was easily defeated by their height. Nonetheless, she stood strong, quite floored.
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The Spazztic Kelp
Jermiah was in the mist of allowing more rain to propel down on the heated Alan, but it appeared that things were going no where. It was a stare down between two brothers, but the flamed man felt his eyes go wide when he heard a shout from Marie. It sounded alarm, but he turned around to see her starring at them. He was already ticked off, and so he merely tsked when he turned away to focus at the stare down at hand. "Don't act like you've never seen any gifted...." he called back, glarring in anticipation for Jeremiah's offensive moves. Alan was well aware of his brother's gift and knew first hand what his specialty was, but he also knew the guy's weaknesses.
Jeremiah on the other hand was watching Marie with an intent to figure this girl out. More then 74% of the city knew of the gifted and yet she stood there as if she hadn't seen people like them. It was a curious matter at hand, but when he watched the scene and looked at her more thouroughly a light bulb had gone off. "The librarian... He told me a few things about the mayor's daughter going off to school..." he whispered to himself, his powers fading slightly while Alan continued his glare at him. Another second continued and Jeremiah finally came to a conclusion which was followed by the lifting of the rain and clouds. Alan had already noticed the lack of power in the elements but he wasn't sure if this was a trick. When the rain dispersed he groaned. "What is it?! Why are you stopping?!" he shouted, angrily throwing up his hands in fustration. His brother merely starred back with blank, gray-less eyes, that looked behind him. "Marie..." he called out softly, walking towards her a few steps, but keeping a distance as he spoke "...Do you know what the gifted are...?"
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Patrick Bateman
Marilyn watched Jeremiah closely, up until the storm began to alleviate itself, in which she stared up at the sky, torn between awe and horror. Such power over something vexed her; the way her father had raised her preached that it was morally wrong, and even the slightest manipulation of nature against God’s will was worthy of damnation and the death penalty. Yet, when her eyes floated back to Jeremiah, and even the upset Alan, she couldn’t find it in her to side with her father. All she could think was how spectacularly endowed they were, as well as how frightening having that sort of sway in the world would be.
When he finally addressed her, her mouth had run dry. After a failed attempt, she cleared her throat and began to unfurl from her tight grasp around Brutus. Innocently, she shook her head.
“No… is that what you are?” She asked, her eyes beginning to swell with realization and amazement. “You just started to change the sky; it was phenomenal! And you, Alan,” she leapt to her feet, energized with a new vigor, “that was great! The fire climbed up your eyes and it up and went out of your hands!”
Marilyn, having finally overcome the fear, resorted to a small chuckle. “You guys are the coolest people I’ve ever met… Are there more like you?”
Leave it to her that, of all the people she could’ve made friends with for the first time in years, she chose two gifted boys with lots of tattoos. Of course, in her mind, she couldn't believe that gifted children made up the hoodlum of the populous.
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The Spazztic Kelp
Both the boys weren't expecting much from the girl, but Jermiah felt as if she'd just run off screaming where as Alan merely wanted her to shut up about it. Her actual reply sent them both into silent shock, but only Alan stayed that way because his brother coughed up a laugh and shrugged. "It's a given that she wouldn't be so surprised..." Jeremiah chuckled, looking at the hot headed brother who just nodded and watched with anticipation.
"I don't care about whether she's a newb to everything, but let's get going before they catch us...." Alan replied softly, turning away as if not wanting to acknowledge how she described him in such a nice way. He liked the way she marveled at him, but in this moment he wasn't all too happy with the situation. Both boys hated even the thought of fighting one another and it left them with a cold shoulder to slowly brush off.
"Alan's right. We should get go-" Jeremiah had outstretched his hands when a bright land blasted up from above. A large helicopter was moving silently as a voice on an intercom:
"All Gifted personel responsible for the weather disturbances are to remain completely still to be retrieved for interrogation. Failure to complete said actions will result into an automatic shooting. You've been warned."
The warning didn't phase Jeremiah in the least as he stood under the beam of light. Alan on the other hand was stock still and his eyes portrayed his fear. These special forces weren't the ordinary mortals who dealt with armor, but actual beings who had gifts relating to protecting armor. It was the best kind of military to have in this country, and they were coming to retrieve his brother. "J-Jerry.... Get out of there...." Alan whispered hurriedly, trying not to give off his presence since the forces were there mainly for the one who disturbed nature. Although there was a fine line between the Gifted and the Norms, there had been a small peace between the two that they'd use their powers for small causes and nothing to change nature or aspects of time and space in any way. Jeremiah commited a small crime, but he'd pay severely which frightened Alan. "Jerry hurr-"
"Shut up Alan... Take Marie away from here... I'll deal with them. I'll meet you up at the place of summer" Jeremiah replied faintly, his eyes glowing that milkly gray once more. Of course the brother wanted to refuse, but there was no other way to escape. "You better make it back" he ordered, the boys nodded to one another and suddenly Jeremiah took off running into the opposite direction that Alan chased down while taking up Marie's arm with his left hand. He didn't wait for any question or resistance as he rushed off hurriedly while all the same wishing he didn't have to retreat. "Marie. Whatever you do, don't scream or alert the forces... They'll kill you for hanging out with us" he called back, turning corners and racing to the only safe house in this entire city.
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Patrick Bateman
Marilyn’s body, much like Alan’s, locked up with tension. Unlike him, though, she was completely and utterly out of the loop; she didn’t understand why there was a helicopter looming over them, and why they wanted Jeremiah. As her muscles became heavy and saturated with fear, she began to hate herself. It was as if she were a kid all over again—kept away from the grown-up conversations, and in the dark of what reality really was. Had her father known this all along, was this why she’d been sent off to an expensive boarding school in California for the past several years?
Suddenly, she felt the utmost contempt for her father.
Just as she started to move towards Jeremiah, ready to help him in any way she could, Alan yanked her away, and before she knew it they were running down an alley. Her bare feet cried out against the jagged pavement, and Brutus obediently followed at their tail.
Alan’s statement made her eyes widen and her mouth go cotton dry.
“Kill me?” She echoed, a little shocked. “Not to play the ‘superior’ card, but I am the mayor’s daughter; wouldn’t they recognize me and just turn me over to my dad so he could deal with me, or something? Lock me up for a few more years?”
When she was met with silence, she shook her head, still keeping speed with Alan.
“Alright, okay; questions later.” She apologized lightly, and poured her focus into running—running away from something she didn’t completely understand.
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Patrick Bateman
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