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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by psych0pomp
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psych0pomp DOUBT EVERYTHING / except me... i'm cool

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Location: The Minotaur/Trial Campground - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.61: It's Like if WWE just Braided Hair and Sang

Interaction(s): Katja @Zoldyck, Calliope @PatientBean, Banjo @Hound55
Previously: Honestly, Just More Tea

Trace didn’t mean to embarrass Katja. They were just trying to make them feel better about the entire rejection, but it seemed to be unnecessary. She was more than happy to pair up with Trace. That made at least one person in this entire team delighted by their presence. Hell. Trace would take it.

Katja was on top of it regarding the tent. She mused over it only for a second before setting it down and releasing a lever. It popped to life like something out of a sci-fi show. Trace scratched their head. “Of course, we used cuttin-edge technology only to make things more fuckin’ bougie,” they grumbled as it bloomed into a domicile that was nicer than their bedroom back home. Honestly, that was wrong. They wondered if the thing needed pitons to fix it into the ground, or if it deployed those as well when it was done. Trace had watched enough “camping fail” videos to know that was the bane of many an outdoorsman.

Likening the entire experience to the old saying that a “watched pot never boils,” they turned back to Katja as she started explaining the ins and outs of her powers. Trace’s mouth went a little agape. Also hearing her say “TLDR” in her accent was wildly amusing. “Wait—no—you can’t skip the part where you were shot in the head. Sorry, I know you just said not to ask. I mean I’m glad you’re okay, but that’s fucked up. I bet—” At that moment Rory walked up, and Trace went from curious and concerned to bristling.

To his credit, he apologized for the confusion earlier and then explained who that nameless rando was that picked up Haleigh. It was a member of Team Blackjack, just one that they had never really met before. Trace felt better about that entire situation. They were beginning to doubt their sanity at that one.

Any further conversation was ruined by the yelling that was happening right over their shoulders. Like a golden retriever who just spotted its ball, Rory abandoned them and ran to the commotion. Trace just watched as Banjo lost it on Iñigo for whatever reason. Haleigh yelled out in confusion, and Calliope was apparently working up to saying something when Rory jogged over and placed his hand on Banjo’s shoulder. “Oh no, you precious idiot, what are you fuckin’ doin’?” Trace grumbled under their breath. Internally, though, they were chanting fight, fight, fight, fight. It was then that Calliope raised her voice and poured cold water, pun intended, over the situation. They frowned as everyone seemed to diffuse and Iñigo rattled off an apology.

“Katja, I know this is a bad idea, but I feel called to say somethin’. Hold on one sec, and then I have so many things I want to see you smash.” They winked before walking a few steps over to where everyone was huddled up.

“Calliope, pet, you have got to tell me how managed to take Deliverance’s balls and make some snazzy jewelry out of them. I mean that’s what had to have happened here. Never seen a dog bark so hard only to back down the moment a pretty face interrupts. He had to have been snipped.” They made a pair of scissors with their fingers and pantomimed the action. “And here my money was on Rory beatin’ his ass. I mean, it’s the difference between a show dog and a mutt you find in the gutter—fleas and all. For some blokes with powers and machismo, you sure as hell love to be cucked. Bet you fuck as fast as you fight—which is not at all.” They laughed.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Jarl Coolgruuf
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Jarl Coolgruuf The Mellower

Member Seen 1 yr ago



Location: P.R.C.U. - Plateau
The Homecoming Trials #1.62 Master Negotiator

Previously: Missed Signals



Trevor's smile faltered for a moment as the question hit him. He knew this question would come eventually and he also knew he was a terrible liar... which is exactly why he had spent time rehersing an answer. Dr. Lehrer may have caught his off guard but he was ready this time. All he had to do was not mess this up.

"Oh y’know normal guy stuff."

Nailed it.




Trevor had already busied himself with skimming the directions for setting the "tent" up when Rory approached.

"You mind if I crash with you? Looks like everyone else has paired up."

Trevor smiled as he turned around and gave an affirmative nod.
"Not at all! Feel free to stop by in a bit once I get this thing sorted out," he said with a gesture at the partly risen yurt.

"Hey Trevor! Need a hand?"

He waved at Makenna as she and another girl approached.
"Hi Makenna! I think I got it but you can keep me company any time you like."

How nice of her to check up on him; that's the stuff good friends do. If only more people could be as friendly as Makenna and Rory. If he could follow their example, he had no doubt they would all be great friends by the end of their time at Pacific Royal. He gave the other girl, who he now knew as Luce, a smile and returned her wave. Poor girl looked more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Maybe a joke would help her relax a bit.

"Hi Luce! Not dying is pretty cool. Lots of people aren't too jazzed about the whole dying thing. I know I'd prefer not to."

The topic of Hyperhuman abilities gave him pause, however, as he tried thinking of a way to explain his ability without making himself out to be the world's most off-putting Mr. Potato Head. Thankfully, he was given a bit of respite, but not so thankfully because of the escalating argument between several of his teammates. As much as he didn't want to interrupt making a new friend, this seemed more than a little serious.

"Really great to meet you, Luce. I promise I'll be right back. I feel like I gotta go y'know—" he made a broad gestured at the growing crowd of arguing students "—help stop that."

He approached the assembled group from behind Rory with hands raised in a placating gesture.
"Hey guys, I know we're all a little tense right now and, not accusing anyone in particular, but we're saying some hurtful things we don't really mean. Maybe it's best if we all just walk away from each other for a bit, get something to eat, think things over, and come back together when we're all not so stressed out. How does that sound?"

Fighting at this level this early on did not bode well for the long term strength of Blackjack, but Trevor was determined to do everything he could to keep everyone together. At least Iñigo seemed willing to make efforts at reconciliation.


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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Hound55
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

Member Seen 11 hrs ago



"Principal's office. One for pickup." The Butler uttered with a monotony that suggested it was far from the first time he'd uttered those words.

The receptionist pointed up a staircase without raising her head from her work.

The Butler ascended the staircase and rounded the corner towards the office of the Headmaster.

"Jesus... Fucking... Christ..." He uttered, looking at Banjo sitting in a chair just outside the door.



"Alright, now before you crack the shits, remember what I always say..."

The Butler facepalmed and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the rising tension.

Banjo was sitting in his chair in a Drama club issue loin cloth, with no shirt, a Christmas twig-wreath perched on his head, and streaks of dried beetroot juice down his face, side and wrists.

"...Let He who is without sin cast the first stone."

The librarian passed the pair with a baffled look on her face. Banjo noticed her and tipped his wreath. "Oh... Milady."
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The Butler drove in silence, until the backed up questions were just too much.

"H--Hoooow? Whyyyy? I don't-- I don't understand."

"Yes, I've been told I work in mysterious ways..."

"Knock it off... and get that shit off your head!" The Butler snatched the twig-wreath and flung it out the driver's side window as they screeched around a hard left corner.

"So where we going now?"

"Perth. I need time to find another bloody school for you, now... Expelled! Are you bloody jokin' me?!"

"Well, I think we were about due for me to be the reason I got pulled out of a school..."

The Butler glared at him. "Oh no! You're not gettin' any bloody sympathy out of me today! Nice bloody try, matey! They were gonna have you up on charges of bloody sacrilege!"

"They can't." Banjo replied quietly.

"Well, I hate to inform you, but yes they bloody can..! You--"

"Criminal Law Consolidation Act of '35, section 137. Sacrilege requires breakage. Either break and enter, break through exit or damage or destruction of property. The ledge I set myself up to stand on? I'd rigged it to support it's own weight from the whole structure, I used elastic bands rather than nails. The cross itself wasn't damaged in any way. I looked it up beforehand."

"Well how about if you're planning on doing a prank which requires you to do your own legal research on the definition of 'Sacrilege' you try and come up with another bloody idea? Why the Hell can't you just pull some kind of normal bloody prank, put a thumbtack on your teacher's seat, set off a bloody stink bomb or something? The Hell's the matter with you? Do we need to get your head read or something?"

"Fuck that. Bunch of hypocrites. You know Priests at that school had been under heat for a dozen sexual offences over the past five years right? They just shuffle 'em on and cycle in a new pervert."

"So your solution was to strap yourself to the cross on top of the school chapel decked out like THAT overlooking the School Assembly. You're lucky they didn't leave you up there for the whole assembly!"

"They weren't going to do that..."

"Only because you'd tapped into the school's speakers and were wired for sound!"

"Exactly. I had a plan. Don't make out like I didn't."

The Butler sat in quiet contemplation of everything that was said as they motored through the suburban sprawl. Perth was thousands of kilometres away. They were in for a long drive, whilst he planned their next moves.

"Alright. But I don't buy that as a reason for a second. You just love the bloody attention." He thought for a few seconds. "That or you really are a headcase..."

"I'm a fisher of men." Smirked Banjo with a shrug. "Men and laughs..."
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Banjo sat with his legs crossed upon a desk, rocked back with a microphone in his hand.

"Knox Grammar, it's 9:25 and you are listening to 'Banjo in the morning', my fellow Zoo Crew Drive-time team member Principal Neely couldn't make it in this morning, and we're sending him out well wishes and hope that he feels better... wherever he is..."

Behind him, shouting through a locked door an angry bespectacled man is yelling and gesturing at the student filling the school's airwaves.

"Banjo! BANJO! I mean it, open this door right now!"

"The Tuck Shop Thunders will be giving out icy cold cans of Coke, and for those degenerates amongst you, the coked out will be getting cans of ice..."

"Banjo! Banjo, this isn't funny!

"The tuck shop would also like to remind you that this week's special, the beef cheese and bacon pie, will be comprised of the following detention students... Brian Haynes, Malcolm Tucker, Matthew Richardson, and because they're having a run on Matthews at the moment, Matthew Palmer and Matthew Nicholls as well. They'll also be using what little remains from last week's special, the removed tissue from Mr Stevens appendectomy, so get in quick there..."

"Banjo! BANJO! Look, get him out of there... have we got the spare keys yet?"

"...Aaaand Congratulations to the father of the child just delivered in sickbay, 11Cs own David Blake. It's a boy. Mazel. However, since the mother is his English teacher, Ms Krenshaw, any and all information regarding the conception can be handed in to Senior Sargent Prentice at Wahroonga Police Station... and if any camera footage remains, I'm sure that the Senior Video Committee would still be interested, care of their Head Caleb Armitage, they gather once a week on, I believe it's Thursdays, at the AV Club..? Thursdays?
Yes, that sounds about right. But yes, further queries to Caleb, he'll help you out. Probably with renumeration as well if the angles are particularly saucy..."


"BANJO!"

"We'll also be continuing with the "Secret Sound" promotion, but a reminder, the last five callers have guessed 'Principal Neely attempting to get back into the station', just a reminder that answer was WRONG just so we don't have any more callers wasting their guess. The prize being a..." Banjo dangled a set of keys in front of his face. "...4 Series BMW. And if you're thinking 'Wow, Hey Banjo, doesn't Principal Neely have a fancy new BMW that he's been kicking around.' The answer is 'Yes, but it's a slightly different shade of blue.' So I guess he can at least attest to the quality. Perhaps tomorrow when he's feeling better he could even provide a testimonial..."

"Banjo! Stop that! This is not funny, gosh darn it!"

Banjo turned in his seat and raised his eyebrow at the 'Gosh darnit', then shrugged and continued.

"Oh, did you see that! He looked right at me! Yes! There! The keys! You've got them! Give them here!"

"Anyway, we'll be right back after following up on our music guarantee, 'Better Music and More of It', here's The Avalanches with 'Frontier Psychiatrist'..."BANJO!" ...Hoik--"


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"Alright, that one I'll pay... That one was funny." The Butler chuckled as he drove the car onwards.

Banjo chuckled in the passenger seat.

"You're kidding me. He really LEFT YOU, of all people, in the room alone, with his own keys and the door shut, to go to the bathroom..? It's like these bloody dickheads don't even read up on you...
Are they just cashing tuition and coasting?"


"Seems that way."

"Need their bloody heads read..." He laughed warmly, then stopped. Looked across at banjo.

Banjo could feel him looking at him. He knew what this was. There was a Time when, he'd have immediately put it straight on Banjo. "You're mental...", "What kind of nutcase...". That's what this was. The Butler was realising he'd started trying to justify it.

And now was the second guessing. The hesitation. Perhaps it wasn't the teachers who were batshit nuts. Even with his record.

Banjo sighed. And looked out the window as they sped on to the next location.

Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials: # 1.63 'Most People I Know (Think That I'm Crazy)'

Interaction(s): Rory - @webboysurf, Calliope - @PatientBean, Trace - @psych0pomp, Luce - @Roman
Previously: Team Bonding - Conflict Resolutions: "Boot meet arse, Arse... Boot."

”Hey, Bro!”

Banjo grunted out a sigh. "Not now. Not fucking now." He'd placed the voice. It was one of the two football friends. He'd earmarked to speak with them later in the night, since he'd pegged them as probably two of the easier people to find a way of getting on with them. Something to be said for 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it'. But now problems with other people were spreading like an infection. Dragging more into the middle of his mess. If he could he'd have spoken with this one later.

But the repeating voice told him there wouldn't be much choice in the matter.

”Look man, we need to be trying to get along here. If you need to walk things off, walk it off… but you can’t be talking to people that way, Andy. We’re a team, like it or not… so let’s just try to get along.”

Banjo opened his mouth to respond and...

"With all due respect, you know very little about the situation so maybe just focus on your football throwing and let the grown-ups have a discourse," Calliope said to Rory. "As for you," she addressed Iñigo, "I came over here offering help and you didn't even acknowledge me, let alone how rude you treated Banjo, who also only offered help. A simple 'no we have it' would have sufficed, but as you clearly didn't even know about the lever I'll wait for a 'thank you Banjo' instead. We're supposed to be a team and bonding and stuff and I'll be the first to admit I cringed at that aspect, but at least I am trying. Banjo was trying too, and you essentially spat in his face."

Calliope took a beat to calm down before she went on, acknowledging Haleigh now, "Sorry, Haleigh. I agree that this should not be how things are handled. God, can you even imagine us at this point working as a team if this is how we act with each other on day 1? Sorry, Rory, about my grown-up comment. You meant well."

Unbelieveable. Beat-for-beat it was perfect. SHE was perfect. Exactly what he would have said... albeit with a few less four-letter word choices. He'd never felt this... understood. He didn't know it was possible for someone to "get" him so completely in only a few short hours. Hell, he wouldn't have dared believe it possible after years.

A few short hours. This was insane. How he felt was insane. No part of this made sense with how the world usually worked.

She walked over to Banjo, putting her hand on his in an attempt to get him to calm down. "You were right to suggest talking to the others. This was a misstep. That's all."

Maybe he hadn't fucked it all up. How he hadn't fucked it all up was baffling, all the missteps, the explosive responses. He wasn't calm right now, but it wasn't from anger.

He ran his fingertips across her hand, caressing it, and gave a warm smile. He'd settle for that now. After all, people were staring. Wait-- people were staring?

“Calliope, pet, you have got to tell me how managed to take Deliverance’s balls and make some snazzy jewelry out of them. I mean that’s what had to have happened here. Never seen a dog bark so hard only to back down the moment a pretty face interrupts. He had to have been snipped.” They made a pair of scissors with their fingers and pantomimed the action. “And here my money was on Rory beatin’ his ass. I mean, it’s the difference between a show dog and a mutt you find in the gutter—fleas and all. For some blokes with powers and machismo, you sure as hell love to be cucked. Bet you fuck as fast as you fight—which is not at all.” Trace laughed.

He felt naked and exposed, like he'd just been stung.

He'd forgotten his banter back-and-forth with Trace because he'd been entirely absorbed in... whatever the Hell he was just feeling right then. He tried to run his mind back through the list of jokes he'd made himself to stick it to Trace but nothing was coming to mind, because Trace had hit him with such a precision blow, he needed to gather.

His smirk was a mask and he hid behind it, people assumed something was coming when they'd see it and it bought some time. Now what was that one about-- ah yeah...

"Well, well... Trace. I thought someone had to play a haunted video cassette for you to show up, but here you are. I guess it was this weather that brought you out... only had to re-apply the SPF-100 twice with this much cloud cover, eh?" Weak. It was a start... but weak.

Ugh. He didn't even want to be doing this. It was just. Going through the motions. He hoped Calliope hadn't sensed his reaction to the "Not at All" part. How the fuck was he going to broach that issue with her now? How would she take that? "Yeah, you know what the cryptkeeper said before about not fucking... well, yeah it turns out I am a virgin. Yeah, it turns out most private boarding schools are single sex, occasionally those types of schools will bus girls in for formal events, dance classes and that kind of thing, but my less than sterling behavioural record meant they were loathe to let me off the leash. Guess they were worried I'd get poor sweet Mary Sue from the local Catholic girls school knocked up before graduation. So hey, here I am... a lameass seventeen year old virgin who... why the fuck are you thinking this..? Fuck you, Trace! Fuck ME over like this?!?! Let 'em fucking have it!"

"You've kind of put me in a fucking spot, with this banter, haven't ya? Because there's no fucking way for me to respond without punching down and being the arsehole. And every joke I could fucking hit would take a backseat to the one that God, the fates, Provenance, call-it-what-you-fucking-will played on you already, doesn't it? Because ya jus--"

He realised the laughter in his voice was gone. He wasn't poking back and forth anymore. He was swinging to hurt. Because he was hurt. And if he knew it, he was pretty damn sure Trace had just figured it out as well, even if the collection of Seppos and Canucks standing in attendance hadn't caught on because banter ain't their game.

Standing in attendance? Wait, what was the other thing Trace said? Before that... Rory? The football bloke.

These people are standing and staring cos they all thought you were going to throw down with that guy because, what, he doesn't want people shittalking?

What kind of fucking crazy animal mentalcase do they think you are?

The laughter came back into his voice. "Because ya just-- You'll have to forgive Trace here. Y'see Trace suffers from a syndrome my people call... 'Bein' a whingin' Pommy bastard.'" It was weak, he didn't give a shit. He needed to kill this bullshit and get the fuck out. Go get a 'win' somewhere.

He looked through the crowd. Sparky McGee standing with some adult... maybe a teacher? Fuck no. That'd be more of the same.

Big Saffa sheila? Nope. Trace probably poisoned that well.

The football friends? Calliope didn't seem to care for them too much.

The broad with the ring. On her phone. Nah. Too standoffish.

The one who answered his question about who that pill Tad was, when Sparky McGee was up his own arse? That'll work. She looked pretty jittery. And he recognised abandonment.

"You're right. A misstep. Just gotta try again with the right person. And I reckon there's someone who'd welcome the effort."

"Don't know what the Hell that was just now with Trace, He tried to cover his tracks in a half-arsed way after fleeing the scene in a pissweak fashion. "But it looks like someone over there's been ditched. You know her name?" He asked Calliope.

He made his way over to the nervous blonde girl. Daring to hope that Calliope might still follow.

What a fucking shambles this has been. Crazy.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad / King of Dirt

Member Seen 11 hrs ago

Behind the forced smile, Makenna’s eye twitched. God the girl really was a hopeless. “No need to be so modest,” She encouraged, pulling out her phone and taking a step back to leave the group as quickly as she’d joined it “There was all that unstoppable stuff too, right? Plus you’re from the area and been camping before, you’ve got to have all kind of tips for us.”

From inside its pocket, her phone was already lighting up from tapping. “We’re all here to bond after all- I just need to check one thing, then I’ll catch you all for dinner yeah?” With a wave, she turned and left the group to give her undivided attention to her phone.


Rory gave a polite nod to Trevor, holding up a single finger to indicate he needed a moment.


"Hi Luce! Not dying is pretty cool. Lots of people aren't too jazzed about the whole dying thing. I know I'd prefer not to."

The topic of Hyperhuman abilities gave him pause, however, as he tried thinking of a way to explain his ability without making himself out to be the world's most off-putting Mr. Potato Head. Thankfully, he was given a bit of respite, but not so thankfully because of the escalating argument between several of his teammates. As much as he didn't want to interrupt making a new friend, this seemed more than a little serious.

"Really great to meet you, Luce. I promise I'll be right back. I feel like I gotta go y'know—" he made a broad gestured at the growing crowd of arguing students "—help stop that."


Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.64: Never Panic On An Empty Stomach

Interaction(s): N/A
And just like that, Luce had been dragged toward social interaction she was ill-prepared for, before being utterly abandoned by both those who she had been thrust toward, and those that had thrusted her forwards in the first place. She couldn't get a grip on Mackenna; she seemed at one moment spritely and encouraging, and the next aloof and disconnected from proceedings. Luce wasn't sure if her initial friendliness was sincere, or if it was merely surface-level platitudes intending for playing the part of an attentive student. It seemed the real Mackenna was the one buried beneath her phone screen. Perhaps Luce had been chosen because she required the least amount of engagement, and Mackenna could retreat to her texts without protest.

Luce was anxious. She could tell she was anxious, because she was getting nasty. Nasty towards others, nasty towards herself. She was hungry, too, which compounded the problem; hanger mixed with unease and from it bloomed nausea and spite in her stomach.

Rory had disappeared without a word, merely one finger held aloft, like Luce could be simply paused until it became more convenient for him to address her; at least Trevor delivered the courtesy of saying hello before politely excusing himself and scurrying off to the brewing fracas that was spilling over and threatening to involve every member of Blackjack. It seemed only herself and Cass were unaffiliated; all's the better, Luce thought. She'd barely had an opportunity to begin forming opinions about her erstwhile team members, but this social ugliness was a poor first impression.

She stood, alone, watching the argument ebb and flow from afar, awash with turbulent emotions. A peculiar mix bubbled away within her, simultaneously disheartened that the team's first opportunity for creating camaraderie had devolved into petty in-fighting, but also somehow jealous that she'd not been dragged in. Again, she had been left on the fringes, abandoned and unappealing. Flashes of quiet recesses spent with a sandwich and no company on a bench or in the cafeteria corner flew past her; suddenly she felt 10 inches tall and invisible, reduced again to the lonely child abandoned by her peers and elder brothers. Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard, self-loathing-fuelled nausea burning in her belly.

In the distance, the quarrel was nearly quelled - where was Jim, or Tad, or any responsible adult to put a definitive end to the skirmish? - but suddenly Trace reared their head, and with it came a pointless, acerbic assault, seemingly for no reason other than to re-ignite tensions. Banjo, true to form, launched back with equal vitriol, and Luce felt everything crashing down around the group; despite best intentions of those who had sought to ease the fight, it appeared goodwill had no place here. P.R.C.U. and its promises of fresh starts felt hollow and foolish. Luce felt sick, and then, in the midst of despair and panic, with only a xanax and half a bottle of water in her stomach, the last straw settled on the proverbial camel's back.

He made his way over to the nervous blonde girl. Daring to hope that Calliope might still follow.

Banjo rounded on Luce, storming towards her with heat still coming from atop his head and a face like thunder, humiliated by Trace's barrage and freshly riled. She had seen this scenario many times before; a shamed and emasculated adolescent seeking to deflect onto an easier target. She couldn't believe it was happening again - but at the same time, it felt inevitable, unavoidable. This was just how it went for Luce.

The panic reached a boiling point and her stomach turned; desperately, she fumbled herself away from the vicinity of the tent and towards the edge of the pitching area, clutching a hand over her mouth.
She made it twenty or so paces before collapsing to her knees in the most unkempt patch of grass in proximity - and then, in a most ungracious manner, spewing up her guts.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Lord Wraith
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Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat

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Previously...

“Listen up y’all!” Jim yelled to the gathered group, “I may like the sound of my own voice but I hate repeating myself.” Taking a step forward, he pointed towards the pair of vehicles as Tad opened the tailgates and began producing their bagged tents.

“First order of business to get our camp set up, two people to a tent, find a bunkmate. I don’t frankly care who pairs up so long as the rest of us aren’t going to hear you all night.” He paused, his eyes seemingly looking directly toward Banjo.

“In any capacity,” Jim added, his tone making the implication perfectly clear. “While you lot do that, Tad here will get the fire going and rassle us up some grub, If ya don’t eat meat, now’s your time to speak up and Tad will get you the proper vittles, otherwise, I think we have something y’all are going to enjoy.” Lifting his hat, Jim smoothed his hair back before replacing the Stetson atop his head.

“This year’s homecoming trial is centred around the massive hedge maze you see growing over yonder. Startin’ tomorrow, we’ll be sending you into the hedge and as a team, you’ll need to work together to navigate it, while also overcoming anything you encounter inside. While I can’t get into specifics with y’all, I can forewarn you that these obstacles can be anything as simple as a riddle to a trap riddle corridor to even a physical confrontation.”

Clearing his throat, Jim continued.

“For tonight though, y’all should try and bond as a team. Throw the old pigskin around, sing kumbaya, play truth or dare, I don’t really care so long as you actually learn about one another. Another good idea, go over your Hyper Abilities, learn your deck before you play it. Now’s the time to reveal any hidden talents.” He nodded to Tad to get started on the fire.

“But first order of business, let’s get these tents up!”


| Southern Plateau - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
Leaving Tad to watch over Blackjack as the team continued to break into pairs while setting up the campsite, Jim made his way toward the center of the Southern Plateau. His eyes drifted skyward, once again eyeing the darkening sky above him. In his youth, the man from Corpus Christi had spent plenty of time at sea, learning to both sail and fish in the Gulf of Mexico. Jim was plenty familiar with storm clouds.

Perhaps that’s why the impending storm made him so nervous.

The last time Jim had seen clouds resembling the ones hovering above the campus islands he had lost friends to the Atlantic. There was no doubt in his mind that the Pacific wasn’t any kinder of a mistress. If given the chance, she’d gladly swallow the campus, island and all.

Exchanging a nod with Victor Bordeaux as the two faculty members passed each other, O'Neil continued to navigate through the numerous campsites until he made his way to the construction site and consequently the line of trailers belonging to the various heads of House and of course, Dr. Lehrer himself.

Rapping a pair of knuckles against the trailer door, Jim barked to the occupant inside.

“Lehrer, was wonderin’ if I might have a moment of your time?” A roll of thunder echoed over the horizon. It was almost ominous in some ways. Jim wouldn’t put it past Lehrer to have arranged this whole storm himself to drum up anticipation and atmosphere for the trials. But if it wasn’t artificial, then Jim had some serious concerns about leaving students out for the night in tents. Even ones as advanced as those used by H.E.L.P. and subsequently the school.

The door of the trailer slowly opened as Jonas stood there, buttoning up his blazer before stepping outside.

“I assume you have a concern to voice, Mr. O’Neil.”

Jim pointed to the sky.

“This us?”

Jim's question was met with a quick shake of the head.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. O’Neil,” Lehrer replied, “I try not to make it a habit of disturbing the fragile balance that is Mother Nature. We only have one planet after all, we’d be better off using our abilities to heal it, not bend it to our will.”

“You need to postpone the Trials,” Jim replied. “If you’re thinkin’ everybody is going to stay warm and dry tonight, that dog won’t hunt, Jonas.” He gestured towards the horizon again.

“See them clouds? They’re blowin’ up a storm that I can’t decide if we’ll be hearing thunder of the trumpets of Armageddon. Last time I saw clouds like that, the waves rose up and swallowed an entire town. Men died. Move the kids back to the campus and bunker down for the night.”

“In all my years running this school, we have never once postponed the Homecoming Trials, Mr. O’Neil. Not under threat of siege or terrorism and I have no intention of letting a little rain put a damper so to speak on what is sure to be an event for our new students.”

“You’re being damn ugly right now, Jonas. I hope this doesn’t come to bite us all in the ass.” Jim retorted, turning to leave before pausing. “If the Senator’s daughter gets lit up by lightning, it’s on you.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.065: Bunker Down
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): All
Previously: The Rising Storm

Thaddeus ‘Tad’ Finch was too occupied in preparing the meal to notice the sound of approaching footsteps. In fact, it was the sweet smell of an aromatic perfume that caught his attention before a tap on the shoulder caused him to jump out of his skin.

It was in moments like these that Tad almost despised his Hyperhuman abilities. Even though he was only startled, already his ability began to adapt as Tad disappeared from sight, an evolutionary camouflage cloaking his person.

“I’m not that scary, Thaddeus Finch!” The familiar giggle caused Tad to relax and prompt his body to return to normal as he turned to the familiar face. She ran towards him while Tad extended his arms, the pair happily embracing in a tight hug.

“Sarah! My favourite Friend!” Tad exclaimed, evoking an exaggerated groan from Sarah at the unoriginal play on her surname.

“You’ve used that same joke every fall for the past eight years, and nearly every morning back in the Canis dorms,” She smiled, raising her hands with their palms facing up towards the dark sky, “Howl at your momma!”

“I don’t think they say that anymore,” Tad laughed. “Hey wait, don’t you have to watch over Firebird?”

Sarah shook her head with a mischievous smile.

“Nah, I left them bonding while preparing food together,” She answered, “Turns out when your meal is on the line, you learn to work together pretty quickly.”

“Smart,” Tad replied, “Don’t think Jim would go for that, man wants to ensure his steak and potatoes aren’t screwed with.” He let out a small chuckle before pausing, taking a moment to look over towards the commotion that was occurring between most of the Blackjack members.

“Also instructed me not to intervene unless they draw blood or burn the tents down if you can believe. I swear for the past twenty minutes they’ve been ebbing back and forth from being a punch away from an all-out battle royale.”

“That might be over now,” Sarah pointed out, gesturing towards Banjo as the teen walked away from the main group and over toward Lucille.

“Think any of them will step forward for the Team Swap tomorrow morning?” She asked, referring to the tradition where teams of the same program met before the Trials to allow students one opportunity to switch teams. While discouraged, it had been a long-standing tradition to ensure students were given the best opportunity to create a friendly environment for themselves since there were instances where people simply didn’t fit in with their team.

“I’d wager Cassander over there might volunteer. Hard to say about the rest, Banjo is the wild card of the bunch.” Tad commented, nodding his head towards the teen in mention with his chin. Jessica and Tad both turned to watch as Banjo broke away from the main group, brow furrowed and headed towards Luce. Tad had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Banjo move directly toward the girl standing by herself.

Suddenly Luce turned away from the approaching teen, hand over her mouth before she stumbled away from the approaching teen. Tad knew exactly what was going to happen next before the retching sound echoed across the campsite. Grabbing a cold bottle of water from the nearby cooler and a wet cloth, Tad and Jessica rushed over to Luce.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." Jessica started kneeling down beside the Blackjack member, "Hi, I'm Jessica Friend, like Tad I'm a student rep, just for a different team. Can I help you to your feet?" She asked, extending a hand to Luce while Tad looked around for Banjo.

"Andr-" He started, catching himself, "Banjo, can you and-" Tad scanned the rest of the team, noting Calliope heading towards Banjo. "Banjo, can you and Calliope get the rest of the team around the fire? The food is all set there. There are three kinds of kebabs, let Makenna know one is chicken, and one is veggie. The one with the red peppers is beef though. Make sure you tell her, she specifically requested no red meat."

"Shut up, Tad! Don't tell me how to live my life, we all know you got entrusted with the food so we wouldn't have to deal with you!" Banjo yelled back. "So, uh... anyway... you want, we should go get everyone in for food, Calli'..?"

"Umm....yeah okay. You want to talk about it or..?" Calliope asked from behind Banjo.

"No." He replied, "I'm fine." Banjo added, prompting Tad to roll his eyes before turning his attention back to Luce.

At Jessica's offer, the younger girl quietly nodded her consent before Jessica took Luce's hand and helped her back to her feet. Graciously accepting the water bottle, she quickly rinsed her mouth out before the three made their way back toward the fire. Helping Luce down, Tad handed her a second bottle of water to be safe before turning back to the group just as Jim arrived.

"Good timing,"

"Sure ain't," Jim retorted, his expression told Tad it was best to leave it at that.

"Jess, I think you should be gettin' back to your own team," Jim ordered as Jessica sheepishly beat her retreat. Looking around before sticking two fingers in his mouth, Jim silenced the Blackjack campsite, whistling sharply, either oblivious or unsympathetic to Luce's current state.

"A'ight, listen up!" Jim yelled, as the team slowly gathered around.

"Tad here did an excellent job putting together a meal, and I want to give him some respect. Secondly, I want you to give each other some respect, don't think I don't know about your squabblin' while I was gone. Glad you're working things out but let's stop acting like everyone here is out to undermine the other. Thirdly,"

Jim paused, finally sitting down as he served a helping of the potato wedges and a couple of the steak kebabs onto his own plate.

"Tomorrow morning before the Trials, each team in the same program meets for what's known as the Team Swap. You've already met Team 18 who also is going to be completing the H.E.A.T. program, and there's also Team 78 who you might have seen around the Intake House. They were on a different floor and their vehicle came after yours, so if you don't recognize them, it doesn't really matter. Point is, tomorrow morning, if you don't feel like this is your team, if you don't fit in, hell, if you just can't stand me, tomorrow morning is your chance. At the prompt, you can step forward out of the line-up, at which point you'll be traded to either of our competing teams. You get a fresh start to your time here at P.R.C.U. and your former teammates get a wild card going into the Trials."

Jim paused, looking around to make sure he still had everyone paying attention.

"If you still don't like your new team, that's too damn bad and that's on you. You get one chance to make a whole new first impression. There are no takebacks, we ain't into that wishy-washy whiney stuff here."

Jim leaned forward.

"Likewise, if you don't like who gets transferred to the team there's no point in trying to bully them out as you're stuck with them. So I hope you all can muster a bit of a warmer welcome than what you've been given each other."

He sat back up.

"That's all I have for you tonight, eat up, enjoy your food and then I advise you batten down the hatches and head to bet. That storm is going to be a bad one and despite my best interests in your protection, we're staying put." Jim explained.

"If you need anything in the middle of the night, Tad and I will be available. For those that don't know, my Hyperhuman abilities grant me the privilege of projecting a barrier that I intend to use to ward off any stray lightning strikes." He stood, taking his food with him before stepping back from the fire.

"Oh, and that does mean we'll be out here if any of you try anything during the middle of the night. I don't want to wake up to any students tied to the hood of the truck or someone screamin' bloody murder about their missing clothes." He warned, "Get the rest, y'all need it."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
| H.E.L.P. Black Site - Zayas Island
| Several Hours Later...

The sound of thunder and the constant plummet of rain drowned out the sounds of any snoring camper or mischievous student lurking in the night. Flashes of lightning periodically illuminated the night sky. Every few seconds the world disappeared into a blinding void of white before the darkness returned, the massive boom of thunder echoing across the Pacific and the Southern Plateau, literally shaking the island.

“Some storm eh?”

From the H.E.L.P. Blacksite, Agents Perry and LeBlanc watched the storm continue to rage above Zayas Island.

“May as well get comfortable, I have a feeling our replacements won’t be making it out in this,”

LeBlanc let out a sigh before leaning back in his chair.

“Don’t suppose you brought a deck of cards or something?”

“Think there’s one around here somewhere.”

Standing up to look in the nearby desk, Agent Perry paused to look out the window, staring up at the sky above. The clouds above Zayas Island seemed to be swirling as though the storm had decided to stop and stay in one spot.

“Hey, Joseph?” Perry asked, “When was the last time you scanned for HZEs?”

“I didn’t,” Agent LeBlanc replied, “It’s the Homecoming Trials, we always suspend the scan leading up to the event because the kids throw off the reading.”

“This don’t look natural.”

“Don’t tell me that Chandler is afraid of a little thunder and lightning.” Joseph teased as he stood to look out the window himself. A blinding flash caused both men to shield their eyes, fire appearing briefly on the nearby foliage before being just as quickly doused by the pounding rain.

Another flash illuminated the night sky, covering all of Zayas in a nearly blinding level of illumination. Lightning shot out rapidly from the dark clouds, striking the ground outside of the bunker and beyond its boundaries. The sudden onslaught extended beyond Zayas, to even the cliffs dotting the Southern Plateau. Trees were downed across both islands and fire attempted to spread from the burning wood.

Above the bunker, three branches of lightning suddenly came together before plummeting downwards, scorching the ground below. A shockwave smashed against the window, the reinforced glass fracturing as both Agents were knocked to the floor.

As the dust settled and the smoke cleared, there stood a sole figure, cloaked from head to toe in a black overcoat, a large hood draped over their head, concealing their face from view. Lightning crackled overhead again, the blue light illuminating a metallic mask beneath the hood. Its vacant, empty eye sockets staring directly at the Agents on the other side of the reinforced glass.

“Call it in!” Perry stammered, “CALL IT IN!”

Time seemed to stand still, the blood in the veins of both agents suddenly turned cold and thick with fear. Seconds felt like hours and all their motor functions seemed to be gone. Scrambling for the radio, Joseph's fingers barely touched it before the world went black.

With a wave of his hand, the hooded figure effortlessly lifted Agent LeBlanc into the air. The adult man rag dolled through the air, the back of his skull colliding with the reinforced concrete ceiling before he plummeted to the ground, laying in a growing pool of his own blood.

Reaching for his weapon, Perry attempted to steady the standard issue sidearm, aiming at the assailant through the reinforced glass. He knew his bullets wouldn’t reach the hooded figure, but he didn’t have any other plan at the moment.

Outside, the hooded figure stood eerily still, the empty eye sockets causing the cold sweat to build and bead on the back of the Agent’s neck. Suddenly the figure cranked his head to the side, Perry’s own following suit as a loud crack echoed through the bunker before being silenced by the sound of his body hitting the floor.

Raising an open hand, the figure closed it into a fist, exploding the barrier that had previously stood between him and the agents. Vanishing into a cloud of black smoke, the figure entered into the bunker, gliding over Perry’s corpse once before becoming corporeal again above LeBlanc’s barely breathing form.

The sound of angry buzzing echoing within the small guard’s office caused the figure to turn, eying the various insects that had braved the weather to see the intruder.

“With all due respect,” The hooded figure spoke, its voice raspy and androgynous as it acknowledged the swarm following them, “Queens rarely make good pawns, I’m not here for you.”

The buzz of their wings almost seemed to turn to an upbeat hum as the insects departed, leaving the figure alone to continue storming the bunker.

“FREEZE!”

Turning towards the door, the hooded figure was met by the rest of the security detail, their weapons drawn, laser sights set on the intruder.

“I thought I dealt with the insects.”

The deafening sound of gunfire exploded in the tight walls and corridor. Bullets clattered to the ground, but not at their intended target, instead, they fell at the feet of the men and women who fired them.

With a twist of the wrist, the fallen bullets rose back into the air, arcing around the figure before moving back toward the agents. Like a hail storm of angry shrapnel, they ripped through armour, skin and bone until the entire security detail fell to the cold ground.

“Excuse me.” The figure hissed, stepping over their bodies as they moved deeper into the facility. Expertly navigating the hallways as though intimately familiar with the bunker’s layout, they passed cell after cell, pausing momentarily by one that was labelled ‘Ripole’ before continuing to their true goal.

“Hello, Miss Miracle.”

Looking up from between her knees, Autumn looked towards the figure before turning towards her cell camera and smiling widely.

And then the feed went dark.

OBJECTIVES
_______________________________
■ Eat dinner as a team.
■ Contemplate the Team Swap.
■ Get some rest for the Trials.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by PatientBean
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PatientBean Hi, I'm Barbie. What's up?

Member Seen 1 hr ago


C A L L I O P E
C A L L I O P E
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.66: Doing It Right This Time

Interaction(s): Banjo @Hound55, Makenna @Tackytaff
Previously: I Told You so


It could have gone better. She could admit that much.

Soon, almost everyone was joining the fray. This all could have been avoided had Banjo not insisted on going to socialize with others. Though in his defense, he was met with resistance for no reason. And then everyone else came up to diffuse the situation or make things better and it reminded her of home.

No, not the picture-perfect home they showed for cameras. The real one. Her parents arguing. Her brother locked up in his room pretending he was someone else's child. And her, alone. Always alone.

And to come here with no expectations of being a part of any team or forging connections, she decided to give it a try and the one person she found was tolerable and cool was seemingly doing all he could to not be with her. Did he hate her?

Trace's words could have bothered her had Banjo not intervened. Even if it was tame compared to the lashing he gave Inigo. Calli got the sense he was holding back. Was it for his benefit? Trace's? Either way, Banjo seemed to have noticed someone else in need of some cheering up as he made his way over to the lone girl. Calliope hadn't noticed her. Though in her defense, Calli didn't really pay much attention to the others. Calliope left them to get it sorted as she followed Banjo. The girl had noticed them. And then promptly spilled her guts all over.

Before Calli could run up to check on the girl, Tad and another person named Jessica had made their way over, checking on her, tasking Banjo and her to let the others know about dinner. Calli had a feeling it was a way of getting them back to the others and not doing any more damage to the girl, despite not saying or doing anything. Though Calli was sure she heard the argument and Banjo's raised voice. She was probably worried Banjo was about to lay into her.

Calli sidled up to Banjo and laced her hand in his. As they got to the others, Calli called over to Mackenna. "Tad said to let you know that there are three types of kababs. One with chicken and one with veggie, but do not eat the ones with red peppers though as that is beef."

Before she knew it, Tad was back over to them. Chewing them out for how they were acting and letting them know about tomorrow. Calli was surprised. A team swap? She was sure this was the team she would be stuck with. Hadn't she thought before about that possibility? Of being able to be with a new team? At this point, did she want to? Did Banjo? She wondered who, if any of them, would leave. Wasn't this supposed to be about team-building? Granted, they didn't do a fine job of that thus far, but surely some time together had established something?

Calliope enjoyed storms, but even then, she wasn't thrilled about being caught up in one. Even with a tent as nice as the one provided. "So, what are everyone's thoughts on this team swap? I'll be the first to admit I had considered that possibility back at the campus. Now, I don't know. Hard to say if I think this team will flop or not on day 1. We didn't get off on the right foot, so maybe we can try to fix that now? I'm Calliope. My power is ice manipulation." She opened the floor to others.

Was she fighting for them to stick around? Or was this an attempt to solidify whoever wanted to leave?
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Lord Wraith
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Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat

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________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.067: Baby, I'm a Firework
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): @PatientBean - Calliope de Leon
Previously: Flight Risk

The atmosphere around the fire was tense. Cassander quietly sat by himself, picking apart his kebab before eating the individual pieces. Separating the parts of the dissected dish, Cass pushed the grape tomatoes away, having decided well in advance to skip that particular vegetable. Despite his pickiness, Cass was, however, thoroughly enjoying the peppers, onions and mushrooms that accompanied the pieces of steak and chicken.

Looking up from his plate just in time to notice a figure land behind those seated across the fire, Cass' mouth turned upwards in a slight smirk at Axel easing his way back in the moment food had been served. No doubt blown ashore by the winds that seemed to be picking up by the minute. Still, he also didn't particularly seem interested in either apologizing or bonding, at least at the moment.

Jim had made some interesting conversation points leading into dinner. Cass had never anticipated the opportunity to leave the team. He wasn't the one who left, that's everyone else did. His parents, Chloe, and most recently Axel. Maybe it was time for Cassander himself to take the first step and leave before anyone else could get close enough to hurt him.

But he wasn't a quitter. Did a bad day really justify moving on?

It was as though Calliope could hear his thoughts. He briefly considered the very real possibility, before she dispelled his fears by revealing her own abilities.

"That's cool," Cass replied, breaking a lingering silence that had followed Calliope's words. His stoic face, smiled briefly before he continues.

"Everyone wants the chance to make a good first impression. There's an appeal to the swap in that alone. But it's not a simple reset," Cass paused.

"The adage of 'the grass is green where you water it' applies. We can stay on Blackjack, make the best of our situation and enjoy our time at Pacific Royal."

The smoke of the fire suddenly blew in his face causing Cass to cough before continuing.

"Or we give up on Blackjack and move to Eclipse or Firebird, either continuing with the same attitude or making the best of a new situation. There's no wrong answer and there's no right answer. It's Schrödinger's cat, whether it's alive or dead is dependent on your outlook." He had been talking too long, it was probably the most any of them had heard him speak.

Cass sheepishly rubbed the back of his head before holding a palm out. The familial sparks emitted from his hand before swirling together to become a small, glowing orb.

"According to Professor Roth and Dr. Lehrer, they call it volatile force manipulation." Cass mused before tossing it skyward, the orb exploding into fireworks.

"I'm not great at controlling it as I'm sure most of you have seen."
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle
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Carlyle off-beat lucio

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Location: Trial Campground - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.55 The Desperate Need for Get-Along Shirts

Interaction(s): Calliope @PatientBean & Iñigo @Mao Mao
Previously: Team 21 Ain't Alright

"Just—why are we even fighting to begin with? All we're trying to do is set up tents. and yet people are more heated than I ever could've been writing blog posts about 'why glamping is an abomination and should be stopped'. Can't we just talk things out without going for the throat?"

Despite that things had begun to cool down, Haleigh was still nevertheless astounded at everything that had occurred over the past few minutes. Tensions should have never flared like they had. Banjo, in his own little ways, had been just trying to help, but then Iñigo lost it and from there all hell broke loose. Sure, maybe Banjo was being somewhat obnoxious, but that still not a reason for everything to just blow up like it had. In fact, there wasn't any reason for how it had blown up. Rationality, which was already difficult to come by given the fact they all had "superpowers", had just gone flying out of the window by that point.

At least no one had decided to use their powers; the only good thing in all the shit that had just been spewed. Haleigh couldn't bare seeing another person hurt, especially by something that could've been classified as a "weapon of mass destruction" anywhere else. The thought of such happening brought her back to that day she unintentionally brought down a hospital, and further back to the day she buried herself alive. It was only a matter of time before something like that was going to happen again, Haleigh worried, and these two fools could've likely done it with their own powers right then and now.

Not wanting to be reminded any further of the past, Haleigh closed her eyes, and took a deep sigh before she decided to answer Iñigo. "It's fine. Let's all just get along, okay? We're supposed to be teammates, not arch-enemies. Teamwork makes the dream work, or whatever the saying is."

Looking off into the distance, Haleigh wondered how Calliope was handling Banjo. She had run off after him, as well a few others in Blackjack. A couple of the guys, along with the woman who appeared more like a ghost than human. Evidently, the pale woman seemed just as interested as Iñigo had been to get Banjo riled up, laying into him about his manhood and comparing the Australian to that of a neutered dog.

"Here we go again."

Her face showed signs of both exhaustion and disappointment. These people were doomed, seemingly only able to understand how to lash out with callous, schoolyard behavior. At least Banjo had made the choice to back off, apparently more interested in another of their team. Maybe those two would be able to get along, Haleigh hoped. They desperately needed some friendly chit-chat that wasn't trying to one-up the other person.

Never mind. She just vomited at the sight of Banjo. So much for wishing someone might get along with another for once.

"I give up. Let them figure out their issues by themselves." Haleigh said, looking back to her tent partner. She may have just talked a big game about working together, but unless some crazy miracle happened, like everyone realizing "hey, maybe we could, I don't know, be nice to each other", there was no way Team 21 was going to keep itself in one piece.

"Iñigo, I'm going to take shelter in our tent for awhile. I suggest you plan on doing the same sooner or later with the storm that's coming. It's certainly not going to be a sprinkle."

Haleigh pointed upwards to draw his attention towards the black, dark clouds above. It was going to rain soon, she knew based off the petrichor, though Haleigh doubted any of her teammates even knew what that meant.

"Between you and me, though, I would've already made the call to pack up and have us head back home. People are only going to get hurt staying out in this weather."

"But what do I know, it's not like I've been doing this kind of thing my entire life." She continued, her words half-grumbled out of annoyance.

Even with their powers in play, Haleigh held reservations about sticking around. No one wins against Mother Nature. It was foolish to think you were invincible from her reckoning. If anything, Haleigh knew that better than anyone here, having been buried alive in a landslide. Her hyperhuman ability may have been the catalyst, but it was still Mother Nature that had done most of the work.

Turning her wheelchair around, Haleigh began to roll herself towards their now-inflated tent only to be cut off by the sudden return of Jim to their motley campground. He made sure to grab everyone's attention as he talked about a "team swap" between the rest of the H.E.A.T.-based teams. Something about being able to switch to another team if they thought didn't mesh with their current team, which... well, fit Team 21 to a T.

For a moment, Haleigh considered the idea. She looked back at the rest of Blackjack, wondering what they were thinking as well. Some of them had to be thinking of swapping, given recent events. But the more Haleigh thought about it herself, she realized changing teams would just be replacing idiots with idiots. And, besides, not all of Blackjack was awful as she was making it out as. Some of them—Cassander, for instance, and Haleigh supposed Katja and Calliope as well—seemed cool. They might've only spoken a few times, but they were about the closest connection she had with anyone here. Leaving would've meant she'd been alone again. Back at the start with strangers.

And in all honesty, Haleigh didn't want to be alone again, even if she thought they were all being stupid right now.

From there, Jim moved on to another announcement, telling his team to enjoy their meal around the fire. They probably had enough time for dinner before the rain, Haleigh thought. But did he say they were supposed to stay put, here, in the middle of potential dangerous storm? Part of Haleigh was eager to have some choice words with whoever decided that decision. Jim apparently had some sort of power that could keep them safe, but Haleigh was hesitant to trust him. She wanted to, but she couldn't find the strength to do so. Whenever powers were around, everything seemed to take a turn for the worse.

Knowing her luck, a lightning bolt might just break past this "supposed" shield and fry her to a crisp. Maybe that was the one good thing out of all this, Haleigh macabrely considered. It'd been something she flirted with in the past. At least then she'd be the 10% in a 90% survival rate. There would be no need to worry about people getting hurt by her actions then, a concern being pushed to the forefront now that the conversation had shifted to their own powers, seemingly in an attempt to keep the team together as the dinner bell rung in time for suppper.

Haleigh shook her head, trying to cast away such thoughts.

No. Offing yourself was stupid, dummy. What was she even thinking? Staying alive was the whole point of coming here. If she wanted to die, then she should've let the people of Vancouver finish the job.

Get yourself together, Crawford. Dad didn't raise a quitter.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Mao Mao
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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago


Location: PRCU - Western Canada
The Homecoming Trials #1.69: A Nice First Meal

Interaction(s): Haleigh Crawford @Kuro
Previously: Owning Up

"It's fine. Let's all just get along, okay? We're supposed to be teammates, not arch-enemies. Teamwork makes the dream work, or whatever the saying is."

It took incredible strength not to roll their eyes at the phrase, which absolutely did not apply to this team. Then, in a pure coincidence that contradicted it, another teammate inserted themselves into the conversation with a cutting remark at Banjo. That earned a brief chuckle from Iñigo, which was immediately concealed with a totally believable coughing fit. And to make matters more hilarious worst, someone threw up at the sight of him. It would've been their breaking point had Haleigh not spoken up about seeking shelter for the coming storm. That caused them to look at the darkening sky, confirming the storm would indeed be that bad. And before long, Jim began talking about something called a "team swap."

But, quite honestly, the delicious-looking kebabs had proven too distracting to listen. Iñigo, who had eaten nothing but prison food for five months, was more than ready to have their first meal out as a "free" person. And when it was time to eat, they were eager to grab the vegan kebabs. Their mouth was watering at the smell of crisp fresh veggies coated in marinade sauce. Of course, it didn't help that the seasoned tofu was a pleasant sight compared to the frozen, packaged bologna sometimes served for dinner at the detention center. Sometimes the meat was distributed beyond its expiration date from the cafeteria, not caring if the detainees got sick the following day. So a simple vegan kabab was practically a five-star meal to Iñigo.

Then, they took a bite.

Under normal circumstances, Iñigo would've been self-conscious about crying in public. But given their tastebuds were overwhelmed by forgotten flavors, they were more than okay with breaking down in front of everyone. Hell, even the smell was starting to overpower their nose. And yet, it did not stop them from savoring the kabab with every bite until there was nothing left on the skewer. It was the best dinner Iñigo had in months, and they wanted to make it clear to the inspiring chief without revealing too much of their past. So they made their way over to Tad, who had just gotten done serving kabab to one of the teammates. "Sorry, we're running low on meat. I could cook up some mor- Oh! A-are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am." Iñigo replied before reaching for a paper napkin to wipe away the tears on their face and then another one to blow their nose. "Dinner was so delicious it made me cry."

Tad raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond to the bizarre compliment. So he settled with a hesitant, "Thank you?"

"Of course." Iñigo smiled with delight, throwing the skewer and napkins into the trash bin beside them. Then they noticed a plate of beef kabab seemingly untouched by the fire. "Yours?"

"No, actually, it belongs to your partner Haleigh" Tad answered and then proceeded to grab the plate, handing it to them. "Since you're here, mind taking it to her, please?"

Iñigo took the plate and replied affirmatively, "Certainly."

And as they were leaving, Iñigo caught a glimpse of Tad walking over to the faculty advisor. Of course, there wasn't any reason for them to worry at that moment. It wasn't like the advisor would just divulge confidential information to a teacher's assistant. Right? Iñigo hastened their pace towards the tent, holding the plate of kebab firmly, before giving their mind a chance to overthink. Upon arriving, they made their presence known to Haleigh by placing the plate beside her. "Better eat it before your food gets cold." But before leaving to grab seconds, they said in a soft tone with a warm smile, "Give me a shout if you need some help with... well, with whatever. I will just be chilling outside while the night's young and calm."

Upon receiving another serving of the vegan kabab, Iñigo sat underneath a tall tree nearby the tree and observed one of the teammates talking about his power close by. But in their case, describing their ability would've been challenging, given nobody (not even themselves) seemed to understand it thoroughly. Hence their preference for showing rather than telling. And besides, they just want to savor their dinner without any further issues for the night. So Iñigo relaxed against the tree and took a bite of the kabab.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Hound55
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

Member Seen 11 hrs ago

Silence was absolute in Paisley's History class.

The rail thin man walked up and down the rows of desks. The tension in the room as always, was palpable. And his decision to teach from a mobile position, never static at the head of the class, only exacerbated things.

After a term on the French Revolution, this education-bloc had turned to the American Revolution.

If the Butler didn't pull him out of this school, the next revolution would see one of Paisley's or Banjo's heads on a spike...

A familiar flicking sound, resulted in hushed shuffling as every student's head turned around to see which it was today. The unspoken tension in the room heightened even further, Banjo knew what it was, before he even looked.

Paisley lifted the lighter, and today it was the cigar.

Banjo turned back to his desk, and internally psyched himself up.

He stood up.

"Sit down." The thin man's voice barely raised above a hoarse whisper.

This wasn't what he wanted. But good. Fuck what this dessicated skeleton wanted. Banjo thought to himself.

The smirk crossed his face. "Y'know what... I'm never going to America, so why the fuck do I give a shit if they had a revolution?"

Paisley's face held the same pallor it always had in times like this. The same it always would.

Banjo's held defiance.

In the face of the inevitable, which both knew was coming.

Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials: # 1.70 Tucker, Talk and Tribulations

Interaction(s): Luce - @Roman, Calliope - @PatientBean, Cassander - @Lord Wraith, Rory - @webboysurf
Previously: 'Most People I Know (Think That I'm Crazy)'

The panic reached a boiling point and her stomach turned; desperately, she fumbled herself away from the vicinity of the tent and towards the edge of the pitching area, clutching a hand over her mouth.
She made it twenty or so paces before collapsing to her knees in the most unkempt patch of grass in proximity - and then, in a most ungracious manner, spewing up her guts.


Banjo pulled up just before reaching the girl as she irrigated the lawn with the contents of her stomach.

"Well, yeah. This is all in keeping with how today's gone..." He muttered aloud.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do or how to handle himself.

"Look I-- Well, try not to chalk this up to an unwillingness to help, I mean I'd hold your hair for you, but there's not much there for me to-- nope, that won't work. I'd only pull it..." Moving his hands in the air, trying to figure out what he could possibly do.

She vomited again.

"Well, yeah, now you say that I don't think I've ever heard anyone describe both my interpersonal skills and my luck quite so eloquently..." He deadpanned over the retching girl.

Calliope filed in behind him, as did some new older student who introduced herself as another student rep. Banjo swiftly cast her name to the pile of forgotten names in the deepest darkest recesses of his mind.

She was helping the blonde girl though, so Banjo assumed his responsibilities here were through.

Tad called out to try to task him with some garbage or other, as if he had any pull to make demands, and Banjo let him know about it... before deciding unilaterally to ask Calliope if she'd want to help getting everyone for the food Tad had prepared. Because fuck Tad.

She held his hand again and his heart damn near leapt out of his chest, before he cursed himself and tried to keep himself cool. He subtly tried to check his arm as it swung through with hers, almost certain that she'd set every hair on it standing on end. She was electric. Once again he found himself cursing that they were using this time to go find others.

They gathered everyone up, and Jim took the opportunity and grand stage to make an appearance.

Blah-blah-blah Tad. Blah-blah-blah Team. Folksy repartee and...

Wait... a 'Team Swap'. People can choose to..?

Banjo's mind raced as he thought how this might impact him. This clusterfuck of a unit, he could just about see everyone and anyone looking for the exits. The only one here he actually seemed to get on well with was Calli--

Oh shit... If he'd noticed, she probably had too. And she seemed exactly the kind of hard working go-getter who would be out to look for the best possible situation.

But the hand-holding, and the checking me out, and the stuff she said...

Suddenly he felt like venting the contents of his own stomach right next to the other blonde girl.

"Banjo." Little Banjo called out from the depths of his shorts. "I don't give a fuck what you do. But you need to fix this shit NOW."

Then Jim continued Blah-bla-blah weather, blah-blah-blah safety and concern for your life or whatever.

But back to the important shit. Banjo had hours to try and turn this shit around. Make some actual human connections with people that weren't Calliope.

After Jim finished his speech before his captive audience, they all filtered out, grabbed their food and sat around the campfire. No doubt deep in contemplation about how chaotic the day had been and the news of a potential way out that Jim had just laid on them. Banjo sat down with his full plate next to Calliope, his mind still racing a mile a minute.

"So, what are everyone's thoughts on this team swap? I'll be the first to admit I had considered that possibility back at the campus. Now, I don't know. Hard to say if I think this team will flop or not on day 1. We didn't get off on the right foot, so maybe we can try to fix that now? I'm Calliope. My power is ice manipulation." She opened the floor to others.


She'd laid her cards on the table, and he wanted to kiss her. For a lot of reasons. But right now, if for no other reason than because she'd actually gotten the ball rolling on an actual dialogue. No way they would have been as open to discussion if it came from him.

"That's cool," Sparky McGee chimed in, and Banjo felt exhilirated. No way that bloke opens his mouth if it was my suggestion! This is it. This is how you turn this shit around... now pay attention.

"Everyone wants the chance to make a good first impression. There's an appeal to the swap in that alone. But it's not a simple reset," Cass paused.

"The adage of 'the grass is green where you water it' applies. We can stay on Blackjack, make the best of our situation and enjoy our time at Pacific Royal."

The smoke of the fire suddenly blew in his face causing Cass to cough before continuing.

"Or we give up on Blackjack and move to Eclipse or Firebird, either continuing with the same attitude or making the best of a new situation. There's no wrong answer and there's no right answer. It's Schrödinger's cat, whether it's alive or dead is dependent on your outlook." He had been talking too long, it was probably the most any of them had heard him speak.

Cass sheepishly rubbed the back of his head before holding a palm out. The familial sparks emitted from his hand before swirling together to become a small, glowing orb.


Banjo watched as the glow grew, shining up his raised long sleeves. He watched and recognised something. On the boy's arms. His mind raced on.

"According to Professor Roth and Dr. Lehrer, they call it volatile force manipulation." Cass mused before tossing it skyward, the orb exploding into fireworks.

"I'm not great at controlling it as I'm sure most of you have seen."


As he tossed the orb, Banjo caught a full glimpse of the markings on his arms. He knew exactly what they were. He'd seen them himself when he was younger. They were a part of him. But scars don't heal as completely for most others, regardless how much time passes.

Cigarette burns. Maybe a cigar or lighter burn there too. He only had a glimpse though. Definitely cigarettes.

He thought about what he knew about this kid. Quiet anxiety. Immediately overprotective of the girls. The anxiety. He'd seen it a hundred times before. It was a gamble... but Banjo felt it was at least a pretty good bet. And he wasn't pissing this away without a roll of the dice.

Banjo spoke up. "Uhh... My names Banjo." He turned to look at Rory. "I uhh... know the official school documentation says 'Andrew Olyphant'. That's not my name. Only name I've ever known is Banjo. But they needed two names on the paperwork, and, well... yeah."

Oh, this is just going swimmingly, dickhead. Sack up. Before you put these jokers to asleep.

"Anyway... I've kind of always viewed my powers as 'something I can do' more than 'who I am', so maybe we can all bounce around and throw in something about ourselves as we go. Y'know, something a bit more substantial than 'I like Pez'. There's twelve of us here, maybe someone else here'll have it in common and we might actually see each other as people or somethin', or whatever."

"So, yeah. I'm Banjo, and I metaboli--" He turned and looked at Rory and Trevor and considered his audience. "I uhh-- eat sunlight and warmth, and my body takes it and makes me stronger, faster, helps me think a bit clearer, basically all 'round a bit better." He turned and looked at Sparky McGee, never flinching for a moment, staring at him in the face - straight down the barrel. "--And I've never known my parents. I grew up in orphanages and care facilities and bounced around schools for the vast majority of my life. In fact, I bounced around so much, I'm not exactly sure WHERE in Australia I'm from, or... I guess... my parents were from, because I've been pretty much all over. Or whatever. So who's got next?"

Well... let's see how that goes down.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle
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Carlyle off-beat lucio

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago


Location: Trial Campground - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.71 Forced Hands

Interaction(s): Iñigo @Mao Mao + the Campfire Group
Previously: The Desperate Need for Get-Along Shirts

Haleigh watched from afar as a group began to form around the campfire, evidently done with their infighting. The thought of joining their fire crossed her mind. Fireside chats were core to having fun camping outdoors, after all. It had been one of Haleigh's favorite things to do while camping, especially if she had a hot mug of coffee or s'mores to accompany it. And yet, she didn't move. Or rather, she couldn't, as if Calliope had frozen her with the ice powers she spoke of.

Since her arrival at P.R.C.U., Haleigh had been trying to put up a brave front. Even now, she had been trying to talk some sense into herself. Yet as Cassander put on his light show, her eyes grew wide, and her hands clenched around the wheelchair's handles. Talking about powers was one thing. Using them was another, especially so freely and seemingly with disregard to any potential risk at hand. Her thoughts flashed back to the destruction she had once wrought, back in Vancouver at the hospital. Would they want a display of her power, just like Cassander had done? Would, say, Trace try to goad her into showing off, like they had attempted to goad Banjo into fighting some more?

"Hey, what can the wheelchair girl do? Let's find out!" It sounded like a recipe for disaster. A walking disaster in the making.

"Better eat it before your food gets cold."

Although Iñigo spoke softly, setting down a plate of food nearby, Haleigh admittedly was startled by the sound of his voice. She could feel her heart race as each of her senses came rushing back, freed from the trance her thoughts had held over her.

"Sorry. I... I was thinking about some stuff. Didn't hear you approach." Haleigh apologized, returning his smile as she grabbed the plate. "Thank you, Iñigo. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

Watching Iñigo leave, Haleigh turned her attention back to the crowd surrounding the fire. She was used to eating alone, being an only child that grew up with a mostly absent single parent. Doing so now would've been no different than all the times before. But in this particular case, Haleigh felt that it was bound to draw onlookers, basing it off her experience earlier this morning. Katja in the auditorium. Football guy at the fountain. Her teammates had a knack at throwing pity parties for Haleigh, and it was likely bound to happen again. All it took was one, single happy-go-lucky teammate to grab the reins of the wheelchair and cart her off towards the campfire against her will.

Haleigh sighed. She couldn't run from this, both in the figurative and literal sense. As much as Haleigh didn't want to, her power-based anxieties had to be cast aside for now. Put on the back burner, more or less. Gripping the wheels, Haleigh readied herself for the worst and rolled over towards the group.

"Hey," She spoke up, announcing her presence as Banjo finished rambling about himself. "Is there, uh, room for one more?"
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Zoldyck
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Zoldyck

Member Seen 1 mo ago

Location: Camp Blackjack, Southern Plateau - P.R.C.U. Campus - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.72: Smells Like Team Spirit

Interaction(s): Trace @psych0pomp, Calliope @PatientBean, Cassander @Lord Wraith, Banjo @Hound55, Haleigh @Kuro
Previously: (No) Return to Serenity

Katja raised a surprised eyebrow at Trace. What did she mean with a bad idea? And what did they want her to smash? But before she could ask, Trace was already walking towards the cluster of Blackjack students. As the tent didn’t seem to need any supervision, Katja decided to go after them, staying a few paces behind Trace. At this point it looked like almost half the team was gathered around the area where a confrontation seemed to be occurring, but at least things seemed to be cooling down…

That is, until Trace opened their mouth.

From the little interaction she had with them, Katja knew they weren’t shy with their words. But the cavalcade of provocations and insults that followed completely caught her off guard. It took her all the willpower she could muster to neither look agape at Trace nor burst out into laughter at the, admittedly funny, petty insults they were throwing around. Luckily no one would be paying attention to her as all eyes turned to Banjo, who fired back at Trace with venomous vigor. Luckily, while the situation could have easily escalated into both saying more hurtful things towards each other, Banjo bowed out of the bout before things got too heated.

A sense of relief washed over Katja as she walked back to inspect their tent. Sure, she didn’t really know most of her teammates beyond just their names, but if things got too mean spirited it would have likely meant the death of any teamspirit Blackjack could possibly have. Plus, it just felt wrong to have them fight amongst themselves. There was already enough hostility towards their kind in this world.

While she was in the process of inspecting the tent, making sure that things were properly fastened and stuff like that, Katja heard the dinner call. It was at this moment that she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was practically starving. Her stomach made a low rumbling sound as if to put an exclamation mark on that statement. Making her way over to the campfire, the smell of the freshly prepped meal made her mouth water in anticipation.

But before she could get her hands on the sweet, sweet protein provided by the deliciously looking steak kebabs, Jim called them all to attention and started explaining their current situation. Something about a team swap and the approaching storm. Honestly all of it didn’t really sink in for Katja. She was much more focussed on getting her nutrition for the day.

Only after sitting down next to the fire and devouring half of a kebab did the implications really dawn on her. The storm was a given, those clouds had already seemed very ominous the moment they drove towards the trial grounds. Hopefully those fancy tents were resistant to heavy rainfall or, in the worst case she thought, hail. At least we won’t fly away due to strong winds. Katja thought to herself with a smile.

The team swap though was something that really took a while to sink in. The thought of already splitting up after having been together for less than a week, and only really interacting for mere hours, didn’t sit well with Katja at all. Sure, some of them might have started off on the wrong foot, but that wasn’t a reason to already throw the towel in the ring, right? It all left a rather sour taste in her mouth, almost making her lose her appetite.

Almost.

Luckily the first person to speak up from their ragtag team seemed to echo her thoughts. She hadn’t really expected Calliope to be one to argue in favor of keeping the team cohesive, so that came as a pleasant surprise to Katja. Plus, ice powers, that was co- Oh… Cassander already made that joke. He was next, and she thought back to Trace’s comment earlier which made her cheeks flush red almost instantaneously. With that distraction floating in her mind, she only really picked up the latter bits of him explaining his powers.

And then came Banjo.

While Calliope and Cassander were both very focused on the pressing matters of the team swap and explaining their powers, Banjo did things a little differently… As seemed to be his modus operandi. The way he described his abilities made it seem like he was a human solar battery, almost like a superhero climate change activists would have thought of a couple decades ago when Hypes hadn’t yet fixed the fossil fuel dependence. The image of Banjo wearing a superhero outfit made Katja chuckle for a brief moment.

But when he mentioned his parents and their absence in his life… It made her face turn dark. Images flashed through her mind, recalling back to that fateful day when her own parents were taken from her. Taken by them.

As Katja was waiting for Banjo to finish, Haleigh rolled up in her wheelchair and asked if there was room for one more. “Of course!” Katja said as she scooted over to make room for her. Waiting for Haleigh to take her spot around the campfire and looking if Banjo was done with his introduction, she took one last bite out of her steak before speaking up.

”Well, guess it’s my turn. I’m Katja, but you can call me Kat if you want.” giving an apathetic shrug at the idea. ”My ability is density manipulation which means I can alter my own body mass and toughness. Basically I can turn myself into a human wrecking ball. Or punching bag, so if anyone needs a sparring partner who you want to try your abilities on, I’m your meisie She punctuated that statement with a humorless chuckle before looking at Banjo.

”Guess I’ll follow your example and explain a bit more about myself. As most of you have probably picked up on by my accent, I’m not from this side of the Atlantic, not originally anyway.” Katja paused for a moment as she looked up to the sky and took a deep breath before continuing. ”I was born and raised in Bloemfontein. Now, that name might not say a whole lot to most of you, but a little over a decade ago there was a large anti-hype massacre over there. The munnies got to my parents and well…” She bit down hard on her lips, casting her eyes down for a few seconds before looking back at the people around the campfire with an awkwardly forced smile on her lips. ”I’m sorry for ruining the mood, just felt like the best moment to open up.”

”Anyway...” she took a shaky deep breath to regain her composure, hiding away her pain back into that deep corner before looking at Banjo with that same forced smile on her face. ”You euhm, going to finish that?” Katja said, pointing her thumb to the untouched plate belonging to the Aussie.



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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by psych0pomp
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psych0pomp DOUBT EVERYTHING / except me... i'm cool

Member Seen 1 yr ago


Location: The Minotaur/Trial Campground - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.73: Cum Bye Yah

Interaction(s): Katja @Zoldyck, Calliope @PatientBean, Banjo @Hound55, Cass @Lord Wraith, and Everyone Else by the Fire
Previously: It's Like if WWE just Braided Hair and Sang

“And every joke I could fucking hit would take a backseat to the one that God, the fates, Provenance, call-it-what-you-fucking-will played on you already, doesn't it?”

Banjo said he didn’t want to punch down, but there he did. He quickly tried to cut himself off and steer in an entirely different direction. One that had a joke that petered out like a flaccid fart. Trace didn’t care about that. They didn’t hear it. Their fingernails bit into their pale skin so much so that the bluish blood started to pool before it dripped from those crimson claws. But they said nothing. Instead, they rolled their eyes when Banjo walked away, taking with him any spark of interest. They turned on their heels and saw Katja. Their tent mate would notice the smug grin absent from their lips. They cleared their throat and plastered it back on. “Bloody fuckin’ wanker,” they said over their shoulder. Though there was no one there to hear it. “Sorry, Katja. I was bored and… decided to—what’s the Yank phrase—poke the bear. Well, the bear left to shit in the bloody, fuckin’ woods.”

They didn’t wait for Katja to say anything, instead pressing past her and passively surveying the tent. There was really nothing to look at. Just a slowly expanding domicile with all the fixings. It was apparent that they had hit a nerve with Banjo. True. They’d laid it on far thicker than they should have. It was just boring being a social pariah as everyone laughed and joked around them but not with them. But they didn’t focus on that. Instead, they wondered what they said that had set Banjo off. Just some light ribbing, dick jokes, and fucking jokes. It was nothing that they hadn’t said before. Maybe it had more to do with who they said it in front of. Trace looked up to see Banjo and Calliope sticking close together. Oh boy… that had to be it. But it was strange for Banjo to give a shit about his personal image. He hadn’t seen a comb since it broke off in the tangled mass called his hair. So—was it the fighting comment? Or the fucking comment? Oh no… it was the fucking comment in front of Calliope. Well, if that riled him up then he really needed to evaluate why it did. People shouldn’t equate worth with sexual conquests. Then again society didn’t care to uphold that notion—especially for the male gender. It was a shit move for Trace to say that out loud. They knew better. But it wasn’t a measured response for Banjo to say they were a joke—an abomination—cursed by the powers that be. Yeah—they fucking knew.

About that time, Bill whistled loud enough that every dog within twenty kilometers could hear him. He stated something about a team swap and not to fuck in the middle of the night. Trace shrugged. Like that would be an issue for them. Then it was time for them to gather around, sing kumbaya, and eat.

Traced stared at the kebabs and then sniffed them. They weren’t bad but there didn’t seem to be a sprinkle of seasoning on them. Or maybe there was, and they were just used to the kebabs back home that were practically dripping in curry. They chewed on the chicken slowly as everyone gathered around and started yammering. It seemed that within the past couple of hours, Calliope had decided that she was de facto leader. Then again, she probably hadn’t had to follow anyone a day in her life. Trace didn’t even look at Banjo when he spoke, they gave Cass a skeptical look, and offered Katja their rapt attention as she did. There were a few people sitting away from the fire not uttering a single word. Trace couldn’t decide if that was what they wanted to do, or if they wanted to dive right in.

“Bloody, ‘ell,” Trace grumbled. “I’m Trace Whitlock. They and them for the lot of you that didn’t get the memo. I’m from Sutton London. My dad is British Military, my mum is dead, and I was scouted for a professional football league before all this happened. And by football—RORY—I mean your fuckin’ soccer. Except better and with less bullshit.” They shrugged. “As much as my power goes. It’s easier to show you."

They pulled the back of their shirt up, which caused the front to ride up as well. Their torso was finely muscled, though far from the definition of Katja’s, and as pale as the rest of them. Their deep blue veins were obvious underneath. At first, it would be hard to tell what was happening in the light of the campfire, but it became apparent that a long limb started to form underneath the back of their shirt. At the end was a hand with fingers. The arm extended longer than a normal one should, lengthening out six feet in front of them. It was as pale as their flesh but didn’t seem to be made of skin. It looked to be denser and made of marble. While it bent in the middle, as if it had an elbow, there was nothing natural about it. The hand splayed its fingers and dove into the fire. It picked up some smoldering coals and held them there as if just holding a handful of rocks. It crushed them into a cloud of fine dust—easily—before dropping them back into the pit. The arm then crumbled away, landing on the ground like chalk before bubbling up as if someone doused it in vinegar before disappearing entirely. “That’s it. And I can produce six of those things.” They could do more with it, but they didn’t care to elaborate. Surprises might be fun in the future. Not to mention, they were already braced for whatever shit Banjo was about to spew.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Number One
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Number One The Riker Maneuver

Member Seen 13 days ago

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Team 78 Campsite - Southern Plateau, Dundas Islands
The Homecoming Trials #1.074: Like a Phoenix...
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): Team 78 - Firebird
Previously: None

It had been a hectic forty-eight hours not only for Jessica Friend but also for all of Team 78. Unlike other students, like those belonging to Eclipse or Blackjack, the bulk of Firebird had arrived at Pacific Royal Collegiate and University only yesterday, with some having even arrived only an hour prior to the opening ceremonies. For most of them that meant they had barely had time to unpack a bag and change into one uniform before being thrust into a different one and told to pack up and move across the island to the Southern Plateau

It was a learning curve for sure as this was the graduate student's first year being a student advisor to a team. Thaddeus was going into his third year and was used to the rhythm set forth by Jim O'Neil. Had Jessica not studied extensively under the tutelage of Dr. Miranda Rivers, she might have been out of sorts. But the calm and level-headed doctor somehow made order out of the chaos they had been dealt.

Still, it was almost special to have been assigned to Firebird. This was the first iteration of the team since the last one graduated in 2018. With enrolment and attendance both suffering during the pandemic, the school never had the numbers to fill the team. Being part of Team 78 was a reason to celebrate. It did also come with some minor inconveniences though. The team's armbands didn't all match, being a mix and match of the vintage logo and the newer, sleek one.

With the team having been bounced from the ferry to the intake house and then the ceremonies, Miranda had opted not to load the lot of them up into a pair of Minotaurs and instead organized a slower-paced hike across the island. It gave the team a chance to take in their surroundings and for Miranda to explain what they were about to go through; the Trials, the House offers and ultimately the Hyperhuman Enforcement Accelerated Training Program.

The hike had been wonderful, the sunshine of the day holding long enough for the team to enter the Southern Plateau before noticing the ominous black clouds overhead. Encouraging the team to split into pairs, Miranda took back over from Jessica, giving the girl a chance to go and check in on Tad and Team Blackjack.

That turned out to be a bit more exciting than she had anticipated.

Hustling back to the Team 78 campsite, Jessica arrived just in time to see the team putting the finishing touches on their personal pizzas before placing them in the portable oven that Miranda had provided.

"Been fraternizing with the enemy again?" Miranda's stern tone was quickly undermined by the corners of her mouth turning up signalling her dry humour.

"It was just Tad," Jess replied, her cheeks slightly flushing as Miranda shook her head.

"I will never understand the inability to be honest about one's feelings."

"Easy for the telepath to say, you never have to face rejection."

"Girl," Miranda mockingly scolded, "You're an Empath,"

"That would be wrong," Jess replied raising her chin in jest.

"Right," Miranda retorted dryly, "Because you would never use your abilities to ease along say team building."

Jessica's cheeks flushed again. Miranda had called her out, full well knowing that Jess had used her abilities to reduce the team's nerves while they had hiked from the campus to the Plateau and throughout the setting up of their tents.

"In my defense, Blackjack had barely put their tents up and Tad was making dinner for everyone. I think this system is much better."

"You can also only feel or suppress what's already there," Miranda countered, having worked with Jess for the younger girl's entire career and given their similar abilities, Miranda had taken Jess on as her protégé.

"In the case of the team, you eased their nerves to allow them to better be themselves, in Tad's case-"

"Nope! There's the line!" Jess interrupted before making a hasty retreat towards the fire, and subsequently the nearby pizza oven and the team of new students.

"Did anyone make Hawaiian?"

OBJECTIVES
_______________________________
■ Introduce your character.
■ Establish their time, however limited, at P.R.C.U.
■ Bond with the rest of Team 78.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Jarl Coolgruuf
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Jarl Coolgruuf The Mellower

Member Seen 1 yr ago



Location: P.R.C.U. - Plateau
The Homecoming Trials #1.74 FOOD

Previously: Master Negotiator


Things did not go according to plan. At all.

Everyone was fighting, Luce was throwing up, Banjo was hurt and decided to hurt Trace even if she would never admit it. But thankfully there was food, lots of food, and good food fixes everything.

Trevor wanted to say he was paying attention to anything other than the bare minimum to understand what was going on but everything after "kebabs" mostly fell by the wayside. Something something team swap something something bad storm. He busied himself with more important things like grilled meat and veggies. One kebab after the other disappeared into a seemingly bottomless pit and the pile of bare skewers only grew. Even for someone who came from the factory a bit bigger it was an impressive display. Eventually Trevor noticed a group of people gathering and decided to cut his meal short so as not to miss out on any camaraderie. He tossed the pile of skewers into a nearby trashcan with an audible clattering of wood.

Trevor fell in beside Rory and met Banjo's side glance with a friendly smile. It sounded like he was about to say "metabolize". The sudden switch in vocabulary confused him somewhat until it clicked. Being smart probably didn't mesh well with Banjo's cool guy persona he was obviously trying to project. The poor guy must be insecure about being book smart, but what could Trevor do to help him? He thought for a moment and an idea came to him. While he didn't consider himself all that smart, his parents demanded good grades if he wanted to be on the school soccer team. Maybe he could give Banjo an opportunity to show off how smart he is by letting him work off of some basic Human Anatomy knowledge.

Trevor nodded thoughtfully as Banjo explained his power set and waited politely for his own turn to speak. Hopefully he could also lighten the mood and get everyone's minds off the events that brought them to this moment.
"So you metabolize sunlight?" he echoed, turning to Banjo, "That's so cool! I bet you have to ingest a lot more cholesterol to compensate unless it works independently of vitamin D synthesis. We can talk more about it later."

Trevor smiled at the group and gave a small wave.
"Hi everyone! My name's Trevor and I'm a H.E.A.T. program volunteer. My ability is..." He trailed off as he racked his brain for a good explanation. "It's easier to show than tell."

He reached down and placed his hand flat on the ground. In the next instant the skin of his arm started to disappear. Not into thin air and disappearing, it moved into the ground under his hand. But moving was also not quite the right word. His flesh was disappearing and reappearing in the dirt in a rough outline of his hand, then his wrist, and the better part of his forearm that filled in over a few seconds. At the same time, a mixture of dirt, rocks, and grass replaced the limb now half buried in the ground. He flexed his new fingers a few times as small bits of dirt fell back to the ground before taking a firm hold of his original arm and giving a firm tug to free it from the dirt. The arm dangled limply in his grasp as he gave it a good shake to dislodge any dirt stuck to it. He didn't seem to mind as drops of blood welled up near the lump of bone sticking out the top, but he was careful to hold it hand side down.

"I can move other stuff around too. It doesn't have to be part of me either. More importantly I'm with Calliope, cool name by the way. We should stick together."
By pure chance he happened to glance at Trace with all those arms behind her and gears turned in his head. Trevor looked down at his own disembodied hand and had to suppress a chuckle before he even started. This would be perfect, he just knew it. A joke would make her feel better after her spat with Banjo. Even at a distance it was obvious he was struggling not to laugh at his own joke as he tilted the severed limb in her direction.

"You seem like you got things handled but just ask and I'll be happy to lend you a hand."


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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Nemaisare
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Nemaisare

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Location: Team 78 Campsite - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.76: Made It Here

Interaction(s): Team 78
Previously: First Post

A breath of fresh air…

Breaths…

Lots of them. Finally.

Finally felt like he could breathe. Just breathe…

Maybe the Trials would be a good thing, after all. To be fair, he’d only not wanted to do them coming right off the opening ceremony and the headache it gave him. Before that, he’d been looking forward to it. Or, well, the camping part, at least. Didn’t care about the rest cuz he didn’t know about the rest. But he’d asked Miss Friend if he could just… not… cuz he hadn’t cared about camping either after so many feet walked over the bones in his head. No roof to hold up didn’t mean the stadium wasn’t heavy. Its walls rustled with echoes upon echoes of delight and enthusiasm he didn’t want to feel. Just stood when everyone else did, stayed up a beat too long, and already knew the words they said every year. Didn’t hear the rest.

One day between the tin-can pressure slipstream of an airplane’s inner turbulence and the ferry’s constant motion, swept by wind and water both—even on a calm day there’d been moments when the waves ran tremors through his bones—hadn’t been enough. Another day between the ferry’s free-floating rise and fall and the stadium’s team spirit hadn’t seen him quite recovered soon enough. But she’d only had time to find him a Tylenol and suggest a nap and they’d see how he felt later all hot and bothered busy before something else called her away. Probably plenty for her to do.

They’d both helped though, the Tylenol and the nap. And when he found out they were walking, his grin meant she didn’t need to ask. Through the trees, warm sun, sea breeze… Yes, please. Lucas started strong. Never really faltered, but somewhere between the intake house and the campgrounds they were headed to, as Dr. Rivers explained things Lucas wasn’t sure had been explained before or not, it occurred to him that familiar and welcome as the easy hike was, he’d missed something so simple. How long had it been? Since he’d walked somewhere like this? With anyone?

Even if he didn’t know the company he was keeping. Even if the grind of all their shoes into the dirt made his teeth feel dirty. The air was lighter out here. It was… nice.

He probably should have been trying harder to pay attention to what was being said since he could hear it. Should have looked for familiar faces. Tried being friendly. But he didn’t have to talk now, and he didn’t want to listen. He just wanted to walk and breathe and remember what it felt like. He looked remarkably content for someone who’d been pale and clearly miserable barely two hours before, but he certainly didn’t look any more attentive. But it was easy enough to follow along once they made it where they were going.

A weird wailing wall with a view and he didn’t know how many bubbles of manufactured safe space filling the area. Definitely looked like a campground. Colourful, too. But the sky wasn’t as cheery anymore and he wasn’t so sure they shouldn’t just turn around and start hiking back. It already felt cooler here, the wind a little wilder, and he knew those signs. But no one else was leaving so he just picked up a folded tent to fiddle with until it remembered what started the unpacking process and then sat back and watched.

“Huh. It makes itself too easy. Okay.” Once it was all done and hopefully looking less sturdy than it was, Lucas tested an anchor point and then tossed his bag inside with a shrug. “I’m snoring here.” Two beds… Probably why they were supposed to be in pairs. He’d skipped a step. “Uhh… Someone want that side? You can pound the stakes.” Just in case they’d need that extra help to hold the tent down when the wind picked up; he figured it was a good idea, but someone else could do it. After making that offer in the general direction of the people who looked as unpaired as he was, Lucas glanced towards those who’d picked a tent for themselves to see if anyone couldn’t figure it out. If anyone needed to know, he was happy to tell them how, but they could pass it along after, cuz he’d just noticed Dr. Rivers taking out the food.

He was waiting on his pizza in the first batch, feeling by turns fevered and refreshed as he stood in the wind too close to the oven, when Miss Friend returned. “It’s no good with that ham so I just ate the pineapple.” He was, in fact, still eating it, though he’d made sure to offer it around now and again so no one was missing out. He was also only still standing there because he didn’t think it was right not to when it was his dinner being cooked, but he’d underestimated both how much time and heat were needed to make a pizza and despite the external drop in temperature, his face was flushed as he finally gave in. He probably should have asked sooner. “Can I go if I’m burning?”

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Tackytaff
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Tackytaff

Member Seen 1 day ago


Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.78: Don't Look Any Further

Interaction(s):
Previously: N/A

It wasn’t Carson messaging her at all. That sent Makenna pacing for a few moments, rapidly slapping her phone against her palm in frustration before eventually making it back to her pitched tent.

Inside, she fell backwards onto the mattress again and raised the device to read the two words a few dozen more times.

Behaving yourself?
- Unknown Number


A few dozen more waves of nausea hit. Each lesser at least, there was a chance she’d even have an appetite for dinner. Makenna didn’t need to know the number to know the sender. Detective Haynes of the Hartford police department wasn’t meant to have contact with Makenna beyond her initial arrest and interrogation. Not that it has stopped him, even before the promotion from regular beat cop.

She deleted the message from her phone and her mind. The man had never been more than a nuisance, and for as long as she was at PRCU, she was untouchable. Makenna focused her attention to the contacts list.

Three rings before Carson’s infuriatingly cheerful voicemail greeted her. She sighed and tossed the phone to the bed. It’d commanded enough of her attention on what should have been a full first day making connections.



Makenna exited the tent to find the group already convening around a started fire and, infuriatingly, Calliope.

”Oh thanks,” She replied with forced friendliness as she was directed to the kebabs, took none, and sat herself down in an empty spot.

One by one, the others in the circle introduced themselves. A redundant process, but she guessed the others were taking the ‘blank slate’ bussness seriously. Makenna tried to listen to each with an open mind, or at least told herself so. In reality, it was rare for her to go back on her snap judgments of people, not when she found herself so often proven right. Trevor seemed a safe act to follow - if at least to save everyone from any further limb puns.

“Makenna, She began her introduction, shining smile at the ready as it came her turn. “Full merit scholarship Yale undergrad, treasurer of the Yale Daily News, and recipient of the Goldfarb Community Service award.” She paused for a moment, wanting so much it could have ended there. “Not that’s what any of you really wanted to hear about me.” She continued, still smiling as she folded her hands together, looking over the group.

“Four delta esoteric expulsive; vocal projection and mimicry. I can sound like whatever or whoever you want,” Her head tilted as she innocently lifted her eyes to the darkening sky above. “Or just a real screamer if it’s called for.”

With a final flash of white teeth, she looked expectantly to her left to continue the chain.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Lawful Newtral
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Lawful Newtral Black Leg

Member Seen 11 mos ago



Location: Team 78 Campsite - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island
The Homecoming Trials #1.79: The New Normal

Interaction(s): Team 78: Firebird — Lucas Bray @Nemaisare
Previously: N/A

Ariel had no idea what to expect from a normal university, never mind a university specifically for Hyperhumans, but a camping trip was definitely not it.

It was...charmingly mundane. Before the emergence of their water powers, Ariel used to go hike past the rocky hills of Truth or Consequences with their mother, often camping out for the night if the weather was cooperative. Marching past the cliffs and hills of Dundas Island felt like treading footpaths of the past, but compared to the blistering heat of New Mexico, British Columbia's brisk winds was paradise, as was the vacuum-sealed security of Pacific Royal custom-tailored for Hyperhumans. Coming here was the right decision, they thought. No more sleeping in abandoned warehouses and breaking into minimarkets. No more watching out for police, or worse. Ariel breathed deep of a hopeful future as they gathered close to the rest of Team Firebird, here in their assigned camping position.

Team Firebird came across as a quiet bunch at first, but everyone seemed pleasant enough. No more unpleasant than Ariel could be, anyway. After the long drive from their most recent motel hideout in New Jersey to Pacific Royal grounds in Canada, Ariel had been far too exhausted to get to know the others properly, just barely staying awake for the entirety of the opening ceremony. Best they could offer was a curt nod, with an accommodating smile to those sitting next to them. The very same smile they now wore at the camp. It wasn't a very genuine-looking smile, to be fair, but the last thing Ariel wanted to be seen as was 'the unapproachable kid'. They learned the hard way that first impressions could just as easily be last impressions.

So it's time to make a good first impression!

Simple enough to set up a tent when the tent literally set itself up, but with that done, Ariel heard someone throw a question into the air. A younger sort of boy, with a babyface as soft as Dominik Mysterio, a tangle of hair a shade of brown lighter than Ariel's. He seemed...lost. Not like how Ariel was lost, shambling without purpose or reason. No, this one looked like he was intentionally lost, a devoted wanderer in his own thoughts. It was always something interesting that made people want to do this. Not eager to pry but not denying their curiosity, Ariel took the bait and latched onto the hanging question.

"I can take care of that tent with you, sure," Ariel piped up, brightening their dim smile as they approached the brown-haired student. "Though these things look sturdy enough to withstand a car crash. I wouldn't worry about the wind." That being said, Ariel still walked over to the other side of the tent and secured it as per instructions. The boy certainly seemed like a worrier no matter what they did. Peace of mind should be good currency.

"I'm Ariel, by the way. Let's be friends." They flashed him a grin and a peace sign before turning their attention to the fire pit and the portable pizza ovens. Though vulnerable to fire and heat, Ariel's Malay blood afforded them a fondness of and tolerance for anything spicy. They had already stuffed a personal pizza into the oven, one loaded with peppers and drowning in frankly irrational amounts of sriracha.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by JunkMail
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JunkMail Shitpost Supreme

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Sierra Hilton



Generally speaking, the day went by both incredibly fast, and incredibly slow.

All days went by slowly for her though, it seemed. 86,400 seconds in the day ticking away, oftentimes she spent almost as much time trying to think of new things to do as she spent doing them. On December 31st, a leap second was incorporated into the atomic clock- 86,401 seconds that day to allow the world to calibrate as days got progressively longer at the mind numbingly fast rate of about two thousandths of a second per century. On this day, Sierra woke and dressed five of herself figuring that any more would be somewhat overkill for the day ahead of her. She felt her breath catch as she stood in the mirror realizing all at once that this was not her home any longer. It hadn't been for a while, really. Her mother and her father resented her. It was understandable, and they did their best to never show it, but she could see it in their eyes and the way they spoke to one another. It was always a favor to take her for the weekend or so. She was not wanted here much longer.

She ate, and packed at the same time. Alternating who was doing what. Her mind was abuzz with activity despite the time of day. It was 6AM now, and her mother was asleep. Sierra would not wake her, she didn't want to see her mother fake a goodbye. She, working as a unit to pack her cars, a lifted 2011 Jeep Wrangler and a 2009 Ford Explorer. After sliding into her seats, two in the Jeep and three in the Ford, she was wordlessly on her way British Columbia.

Quebec, despite its reputation as a French speaking state, actually gets its name from Algonquin. The original territory being 'Kebec', simply meaning where the river narrows. She found herself reading a good deal about the island beforehand. How it had been a mansion, and then developed into a school. How governing agencies got involved, then there was the H.E.A.T. recruiter. She couldn't say no to that- she was young, and this was an opportunity to make things better than they had been before. Better than she had it. Between her mother and her father, if it meant saving one more hyperhuman from that sort of environment... she didn't have to think long on it.

Quebec's state seal simply meant 'The Great Seal of Quebec". Most territories had a saying attributed to them. Her personal favorite was South Carolina's, which bore the Latin phrase "Dum spiro, spero,".

She breathed a shaky breath at that and diverted her eyes to the window. While I breathe, I hope.

The trip from Montreal to the Isle was uneventful, but Sierra was never entirely bored. She read, and listened, and watched. Books, movies, chess, she found a way to keep herself occupied while she drove. She couldn't imagine how people did this normally- she would go insane if she had to do this regularly. When she finally arrived, therein came the first of the complications. Most people her age had family that were much more involved in their lives than her. The adults had their own means of arranging transportation, but she had neither. Catching the ferry was the last step between Pacific Royal and the civilian world. For her it was quite the obstacle.

Sierra did what she did best- divide and conquer. Two of her would have to remain here on the mainland. The drivers were the natural choice. While it would limit their travel distance away from the island, at the end of the day she was going to a super school. Likely full of hot heads and people eager to earn their stripes. Secure or not, if something were to happen, she wanted a fail-safe. Someone to keep her updated on the events in the outside world and to protect herself in the event her population on the island was...

Sierra reigned herself in. Too many Batman comics. She needed someone to keep an eye on her vehicles and keep her other endeavors running. That was all. The school was safe. She would be okay. The goodbyes were non-existent. She didn't need to send off herself, and everyone knew their job well ahead of time. They had arranged lodging until they could find a more permanent place to live. The remaining dozen or so of her would now have to carry on the journey by boat.

When she finally arrived at the PRCU, Sierra did what she did best, which was divide and conquer. Four of her began the process of getting the keys to her dorm and unpacking while one her went to orientation. It came and went, with stragglers coming in here and there and scrambling to their seats. She did her best to focus on the speech. Power training, school, school teams for the yearly showboating starting with a hedge maze, don't bang on campus, but you can do that in the woods as long as you're back by 8.

A small smile graced her features at that. Her phone dinged. A group chat of fourteen or so numbers- all her. It was a few new T shirt designs. A vibrant pink men's medium with the caption of "THE HYPE FACTOR" with a stylized DNA strange, and another dictating "SIGMA MALE" with the sigma symbol. A few other messages rolled in of approval, some voicing concern. She felt her mind buzz with directions from various versions of her across campus. Another text now. 'Got access to the industrial washing machine and some extra uniforms. A dozen right?' 'It's a start. We'll work on it more later.'

By the time she made it to her dorm, it was already unpacked and organized the way she would have wanted it to be. She was on team Firebird, and would be taking part in the trials. Camping on the southern plateau, Dundas Island. How quaint. The preparations were immediate- one would be dispatched for the trials. The remaining would stay on campus.

When she arrived, she wasn't particularly interested in the others. Yet. She was much more interested in how they would present themselves to one another. Instead she set up a crude tarp to conceal herself from immediate view and laid out five changes of clothing. Then she got to work.

As one, the newly christened copies brought down the tarp and began constructing the tent. She was like a machine- the tent, the most complex of all camping equipment, the bane of all dads everywhere, was up within a minute. It helped that it was designed to erect on its own, but four people securing it in position at once shortened the process that much more. Satisfied with her progress, Sierra nodded to the other three clones, who dispersed to the others, offering help with the securing process.

"Need another set of hands?"

"I've got an extra hammer if you want help nailing it down."

"Ever been camping before?"


Three different approaches to three different people. Hopefully one of them would be either unfamiliar enough with camping or just generally friendly enough to accept conversation. Otherwise she'd simply send them off on that one other thing she had in mind- but she'd take care of that later if she could. The remaining Sierra moved forward and took a seat next to a tall, lanky young woman with a smattering of freckles who seemed nice, a pensive young man who seemed to have an affinity for a Stegosaurus plush, and young Afro-Canadian woman who seemed very curious about the young man's comment on burning things.

She briefly tossed around ideas of how to spark conversation, but the plush had her attention the most. Nobody asked anybody about their favorite dinosaur as an adult. Maybe she should start with that.

"Is Stegosaurus your favorite?" she offered, motioning to the plush. "There's more time between T. rex and Stegosaurus than there is between T. rex and us. Really threw me for a loop when I read that."
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