~Rokhan~
Sitting hunched over a blank slab of obsidian Rokhan contemplated just how to control the ever growing number of super powered individuals popping up over the globe. Deep in his heart he knew he had little hope of containing all of them; he would still try. His desire to confine them wasn’t born of fear, hate, or the need to show his own power but instead the need to protect those who could not protect themselves. He let his mind briefly touch the iron door that guarded his memory’s flooding him with the the sights, sounds, and smells of a redheaded girl he only wished he could see again. Her name was Kate. She was eighteen in this vision with her skin still pale enough that the sunbeams seemed to use her as a beacon. A white stemmed rose with brilliant shining petals of red. His vision of beauty flashed quickly to a different red, this time she was older, twenty two, her skin broken like rice paper torn to shreds. Hair that once held the red hues of life now soaked on the dark thickening liquids of death. Rokhan cringed slamming that heavy iron door of his mind closed.
With a mild shake in his hand he pressed two fingers lightly into the obsidian. Instead of meeting the resistance of cold stone it gave way under his will as if it were a liquid. A ripple cascaded over through and into the rock, as it passed over the smooth surface tiny shapes began to rise. They started as crude shapes slowly gaining detail the further the ripple went until the whole surface of the table was the exact replica of a small city. Rokhan sat in complete stillness as he focused his minds eye on the city his hands placed on the stone floor between crossed legs creating a link between him and the earth. While connected to stone he was able to become sturdier, “see” through the stone as if the whole world was able to become an extension of his senses. The sensation was close to overwhelming unless he was able to channel what he was seeing into something solid like the table before him. The buildings grew spreading out from the middle pushing some to the edges of the table where they were swallowed down to the underside. In the center of the table walked an obsidian figure masked in obscurity, Rokhans stone sight could make ouy nearly any structure he focused on, could pinpoint any foot falls he knew, could tell when a drop of blood hit the ground. However when it came to seeing into buildings or trying to make out exact details of a moving person his ability became harder to maintain, harder to focus. Instead it gave him a broad view of what was going on, if not a detailed view.
With a sigh to break his trance and connection to his sight Rokhan with drew from the room he called the Scrying Chamber. He had located a hand full of new Supers that needed to be confronted and tested to see if they were good at heart or if they too would end up in holding like the last eighteen he had found. Those ones were bad beyond a doubt, or simply crazy due to their new power of from their minds not being able to control their new bodies. His luck so far had been less than good, out of the twenty three supers he had found only five had been able to properly control their power and were going to use their power for the greater good. Two of those he left alone because they wanted to go it alone, the other three had been killed by a super he now had locked up. Rokhan would settle for anyone seeking justice, vengeance or even some one that “removed” supers to protect those that couldn’t defend them selves. He himself would prefer not to kill anyone unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. Thats what BlackBall was for, to preserve life and hopefully someday be able to help those inside that needed it. Rokhan shivers with the fear that it may never happen, that all he has done is make things worse by forcing himself on the world. As the shiver passes he steels himself and continues on his way to the only exit to BlackBall prison.
Sitting hunched over a blank slab of obsidian Rokhan contemplated just how to control the ever growing number of super powered individuals popping up over the globe. Deep in his heart he knew he had little hope of containing all of them; he would still try. His desire to confine them wasn’t born of fear, hate, or the need to show his own power but instead the need to protect those who could not protect themselves. He let his mind briefly touch the iron door that guarded his memory’s flooding him with the the sights, sounds, and smells of a redheaded girl he only wished he could see again. Her name was Kate. She was eighteen in this vision with her skin still pale enough that the sunbeams seemed to use her as a beacon. A white stemmed rose with brilliant shining petals of red. His vision of beauty flashed quickly to a different red, this time she was older, twenty two, her skin broken like rice paper torn to shreds. Hair that once held the red hues of life now soaked on the dark thickening liquids of death. Rokhan cringed slamming that heavy iron door of his mind closed.
With a mild shake in his hand he pressed two fingers lightly into the obsidian. Instead of meeting the resistance of cold stone it gave way under his will as if it were a liquid. A ripple cascaded over through and into the rock, as it passed over the smooth surface tiny shapes began to rise. They started as crude shapes slowly gaining detail the further the ripple went until the whole surface of the table was the exact replica of a small city. Rokhan sat in complete stillness as he focused his minds eye on the city his hands placed on the stone floor between crossed legs creating a link between him and the earth. While connected to stone he was able to become sturdier, “see” through the stone as if the whole world was able to become an extension of his senses. The sensation was close to overwhelming unless he was able to channel what he was seeing into something solid like the table before him. The buildings grew spreading out from the middle pushing some to the edges of the table where they were swallowed down to the underside. In the center of the table walked an obsidian figure masked in obscurity, Rokhans stone sight could make ouy nearly any structure he focused on, could pinpoint any foot falls he knew, could tell when a drop of blood hit the ground. However when it came to seeing into buildings or trying to make out exact details of a moving person his ability became harder to maintain, harder to focus. Instead it gave him a broad view of what was going on, if not a detailed view.
With a sigh to break his trance and connection to his sight Rokhan with drew from the room he called the Scrying Chamber. He had located a hand full of new Supers that needed to be confronted and tested to see if they were good at heart or if they too would end up in holding like the last eighteen he had found. Those ones were bad beyond a doubt, or simply crazy due to their new power of from their minds not being able to control their new bodies. His luck so far had been less than good, out of the twenty three supers he had found only five had been able to properly control their power and were going to use their power for the greater good. Two of those he left alone because they wanted to go it alone, the other three had been killed by a super he now had locked up. Rokhan would settle for anyone seeking justice, vengeance or even some one that “removed” supers to protect those that couldn’t defend them selves. He himself would prefer not to kill anyone unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. Thats what BlackBall was for, to preserve life and hopefully someday be able to help those inside that needed it. Rokhan shivers with the fear that it may never happen, that all he has done is make things worse by forcing himself on the world. As the shiver passes he steels himself and continues on his way to the only exit to BlackBall prison.
