Afro Samurai

Streets on Fire

oohh lets go!

Streets on Fire

The hype is real.

Streets on Fire

I'm just waiting for the IC.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

A Step Toward Balance

Time: Day of Satellite Attacks - Present Day
Location: Sherman Square, Lost Haven

From the height he was at, Pantheon could see a smattering of strangely dressed people--not that he himself was the fancier--each was garmented oddly enough where ‘superhero’ was the first and only thing which came to his mind. Plus, all the flying still gave him motion sickness. He made himself vertical before descending, and it was in his descent he recognized one of the faces in the small group. How strange did they all look huddled together like this? It didn’t bode well for Hassan’s self-conscious issues. Right as she spoke is when his feet touched the pavement,

“You don’t know me. There isn’t a single person here to represent the magic folk getting terrorized by the Hounds of Humanity the same as you guys. My name is the Alchemyst. I was at the University the day it was attacked. . .

“As was I. I am Pantheon. You will allow me to assist you in eradicating these pests.”

“Jesus fucking christ!” Charlie shouted, jumping away a few feet. She patted her chest, clearly and obviously startled.

“Pantheon! Fuck, do you have any human tact? Suddenly appearing at superspeed is-” She complained, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Really fucking annoying.”

Huffing, regaining some minimum of composure. Nerves already on edge from dodging stalking hounds and an undead cat. Charlie maintained no cool. She went to Lady Hex, telling her to go on while she dealt with Pantheon, promising she’d be right behind her.

Pantheon giggled. Hassan spoke,

“Do you wake up angry all the time? You need a boyfriend or something. Anyway, now that the formalities are done--I need your help. Wow, thanks for accepting! I think this will be fun!”

His rainbow-colored iris’ slid along every person present. Did one of them have a motorcycle? Hassan always wanted a motorcycle, all the bad boys with motorcycles in the movies got the girls--this whole having a mystic entity trying to consume his mind thing made for lonely nights and late night ice cream binges. And lots of crying. Nonetheless, he had come here searching for help, and he found it; well, he found the one person he needed to find, the rest of them looked weak and stupid. He trained his eyes on Alchemyst,

“Wow, really? You act like he knows what ‘human tact’ is. I thought we bonded, Alchemyst, I really did. And since you’re gonna be helping me, you should probably, like, stop being so angry. He gets defensive sometimes.”

Charlie squinted through her goggles up at Pantheon. She let out a big sigh. “Yeah and bouncing between a teenaged boy and a brick is easy to follow. I get angry ‘cause you catch me on bad days alright, I haven’t stopped dealing with the Hounds of Humanity since the University and have had my plate full with bullshit you don’t care about.” She tapped the end of her staff against his head, “What would you need my help with? You can crush a bus between your hands.”

He flinched when the staff touched his head. A jolt of uncomfort rippled through him from head to toe. He took a step back. She presumed he hadn’t stopped thinking about the Hounds since the University attack. . . well, she wasn’t wrong. They didn’t pose a threat to him without those weird tower things, but they did pose a threat to his ohm and his cousins. That was why he was there, for them.

“But that’s why I’m here! Back at the University when you told me, ‘Fuck you, fuck that stupid cape, and fuck that dumbass lightning bolt!’ I thought about it, you know. You had a point, honestly--fuck this dumbass lightning bolt, and so I went home that day and was wondering about how exactly to make him fuck off. Doesn’t seem like I can, which is a shame really because I know how much you love him. According to my cousin, I can make him fuck off. I can learn to control him. . . somehow. And you do…” he waved his hands frantically, “whatever it is you do with the staff, so I came to you.”

He hadn’t come specifically for her, but it made him sound like he was all-knowing; fitting for the whole nigh-all powerful thing he had going on with Pantheon.

“I know you think I’m some dumb kid--I think I’m some dumb kid--but I have people to protect just like you. So, like, help me do that.” his customary snide tone fell to true plea. The news of the satellite attacks drew things into perspective for him; he didn’t have much in the way of people he truly cared about, and he was going to hold on to them whether he figured out how to control Pantheon or not.

Listening, she felt pangs of sympathy for the kid. The whole flying brick thing was pretty new to him. Not really buying the sentiment of him looking for her specifically, she happened to be there with the other metas gathering to deal with the Hound’s satellite. “Look, kid. I don’t know what I can do for you, I don’t know the first thing about your deal with Pantheon. I know alchemy,” She held up her staff to emphasize her point, the wood began to peel apart like a banana showing strands of gold, copper and tin. “Breaking matter down, rebuilding it, separating it, changing it. My alchemy is as natural to me as breathing is.”

She tapped the butt of her staff against the ground snapping it back into shape.

“Tell me a little about your family, how did you end up with Pantheon uh…. Possessing you? I guess? His spirit doing its… thing.” Charlie struggled plainly with the weirdness. She wished Carrie was here to help put his whole deal into words.

He put a finger to his chin, contemplating.

“Here--” he blazed away, a whir; he returned some seconds later with two movie theater recliner seats. He sat one behind Charlie, the other he procured for himself. “This is gonna be a long one. So, from what my granny used to tell me, he’s supposed to be like… the entirety of my family’s life’s work. You kind of know that already, so I’ll skip to the interesting part: he’s part of every person in my family’s lineage, but he doesn’t always show up. Shati, Rahna, my mother, Pantheon has ‘possessed’ them all, he just doesn’t uh, come out unless something or someone threatens my family’s well being. And I mean like, ‘able to wipe us all off the face of the earth’ well being.”

Charlie pat the chair, peeking past at the receding backs of the heroes. Nobody would care about a couple missing movie chairs. She sat relaxing a bit into the cushion, fingers fidgeting - picking at stray string wear and tear.

He reclined the movie theater seat forcefully since it had been detached from its motor,

“Doesn’t have to be some world-breaker threat, nah. The problem is though that Pantheon is, as you’ve seen, pretty--” a swirl of lightning fritzed along Pantheon’s body, there was a noticeable grimace, his eyes briefly shifting to one color, then back to their pallette.

”OUT!”

A pause, and once Hassan gained again he continued,

“Violent. But apparently it’s not just toward whatever he’s after, it’s against my lineage itself. How he manifests, when, it’s all random. All he wants is control so he can. . . I don’t even know. But I don’t think that would be safe… for anyone. That’s why I’m here. What you saw him do at the University was child’s play compared to what he’s capable of. So I need to harness it, control him before he gets to me; and I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it on my own. You know something about harnessing… the flippity floppity magic bullshit. So I’m begging you, help me.”

Charlie flinched when he shouted, dodging some static. Offended at the mention of magic bullshit she snapped, “It’s not bullshit. Alchemy has been in my family for centuries.”

She rolled her staff in her hands in thought, what was one more misfit to help? Charlie wondered if this what she signed up for. “Alright alright, don’t need to beg okay? I’ll make you a deal, protect my ass on this Hounds attack and I’ll help you figure out how to deal with Pantheon. Deal?” She stuck out her hand. “It sounds like you need to set up some boundaries and shit like that. Like a bad roommate.”

A child’s excitement, he ensnared her hand in his own and delivered a bit too strong of a handshake, certainly not enough to crush her hand, however. A boundary? Bad roommate. It made more sense than Hassan knew, the breadth of his business settled, he went on to secondary matters,

“So that’s what this gathering is all about.” He glanced at all the heroes present, few of whom he knew, although the one in the suit and the other who looked as muscled as Pantheon stuck out to him. The rest he cackled at: Lyger, Slipstream, Nemesis, Fletch, Iron Knight, Radiance, Lady Hex. Hassan slipped,

”Hahahahahaha! This is what you believe will stimy these wretches?! Pathetic! All of them, weak! One of them is wearing pink! Do you plan to effeminate them to death?”

He was getting better at it, fighting back. The lapses were becoming shorter, but they were a strain his conscious could not bear for much longer. It took everything he had to maintain control for more than half an hour.

“Hey Pantheon I don’t mind turning your clothes pink if you’re gonna be a dick about costumes.” She said, looking to the heroes as well. “Yeah, that’s them. What’s your name kid? It’ll be easier to address you instead of the blockhead.”

“Hassan. My name is Hassan.” he staked it with pride,

“So long as you don’t blab, I’m Charlie. When the big shots are around just refer to me as Alchemyst okay? I don’t want any of ‘em following me home.” She replied, smiling underneath her mask. “Nice to meet you, Hassan.”

“Charlie. Nice name. If you were just a tad bit cuter I might date you or something... And I don’t know, between you and me--you seem like a big shot.” he winked at her.

She recoiled at the comment, poking him again with her staff. “Thanks for the actual compliment, pass on the everything else. Teenagers aren’t my type and neither are boys.”

She sat up from her chair thinking looking at the chair then deciding on to salvage some of the leather for later. “Alright, try to keep a lid on Pantheon when the big shots start talking and we might actually get to doing the job and getting to go home satellite free.”

Streets on Fire (rehash)

Hawk

Lamarcus Hawthorne

Alias/Nickname(s):

Hawk.

Age:

23.

Gender:

Male.

Sexual Preference:

Women.

Appearance:

He typically wears a long sleeve pullover hoodie, blue jeans and tan Timberland boots. He is tall, bordering on 6'5 but he is skinny, and his legs are long. He is lean and cut from his days of fighting and his persistent exercise routine.

Gang Affiliation:

The Lost Ones.

Brief History:

Lamarcus moved to New York when he was six years old from Inglewood, California on the whim of his father receiving a promotion. The company closed its doors not long after, however, and left the Hawthorne clan without direction. It was not long before his father fell into alcoholism and his mother abandoned the family for another man. Left with himself, two brothers and two sisters, Lamarcus took to the streets to provide for his people. It was during his escapades in the street where he first frequented free boxing gyms and met a trainer. From boxing, he took up Taekwondo, and for a short while he used his skills to fight amateur to provide for his family.

He never turned pro, though, and he soon lost the lust for fighting. With his earnings, he bought himself an apartment and moved his siblings to live with him; it was during this period that Lamarcus began to grow close with the Lost Ones who would help him pay rent in exchange for helping carry out protection and courier runs. Soon enough, he fell in completely and joined the gang fully. When called upon to defend his gang or his loved ones, he is a skilled hand-to-hand stand up combatant, and would be considered--in the lingo of his favorite cult classic, The Warriors-- “heavy muscle.” He is extremely loyal, to a fault.

Extras

• Theme: 2pac - Still I Rise
• Likes: His friends, his siblings, caring for others, women, dogs.
• Dislikes: Drugs, alcohol, betrayal, selfishness.
• Fears: Suicide, death, drugs, birds.
• Hobbies: Drawing, exercise.
• Goals:

Streets on Fire (rehash)

much interest

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{An Unwanted Eye}

_{Day of the Catastrophe}

---

A movie and dinner was their plan, but rarely do those accord. Pantheon was several hundred feet in the air as he flew behind the grey Honda. The trek to Lost Haven’s downtown area seemed a lot longer than usual, perhaps it was because of rush hour--as Manuel and Shati obeyed the rules of the road, Pantheon had to follow suit. He couldn’t lose them after all. When Manuel and Shati finally reached the downtown area, Pantheon landed softly some feet behind them; it was hard to remain inconspicuous given Pantheon’s size and strange costume. In a town like Lost Haven, though, it was easy to pass for a cosplayer.

Shati and Manuel made their first stop a donut shop. Pantheon procured a bench across the street, eyes pinned on the two as they walked inside the small donut shop with hands joined together. They smiled and giggled, Manuel planted a kiss on Shati’s cheek. Hassan nearly puked. Hassan wasn’t going to make his move just yet--he had to let them believe they were truly alone before he made himself known. When they exited the donut shop and headed for the movie theater near the downtown square, Pantheon followed. Weaving through the downtown crowd was irritating. Eventually, Pantheon managed his way through the wave of bodies and caught up with the two teenage lovebirds.

It was a shame they had both only ordered single donuts and not a dozen. Hassan, too, loved donuts--especially those with extra glaze and sprinkles. The couple finally reached the movie theater after a considerable walk and went inside, Pantheon followed behind. When Shati and Manuel reached the register to purchase tickets, Pantheon towered over them both; his shadow cast a cloud over them both.

“Two tickets for--”
“Three,” Pantheon added
“Oh. . . my. . . FUCKIINNNGGG. . . GOD!” Shati burst!

Hassan giggled and waved. Then he continued,

“Three tickets for Black Panther, my man!” Hassan was brimming,
“FIRST: We didn’t even come here for some stupid superhero movie, and SECOND: WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Shati rebuffed, volatile as could be. Hassan stuck a finger in his ear, her shouting made them sensitive.
“Come on, Titi--you’re gonna give me a headache. Let’s stop all this shouting about things we can’t control, huh?! Let’s enjoy ourselves!”

Hassan shut up a chuckle. He wrapped Pantheon’s large arms around the two teens and escorted them toward their theater: 10 on the left. This was before he lay eyes on the concession stand: popcorn, hotdogs, pizza, soft pretzels--a dream. To the counter Pantheon went, Hassan was giddy! A young woman with shoulder blade length french braids walked up to the counter,

“What can I do for you?” a smile wrought on her face, less because of her genuine desire to serve--as attested by puffy eyes and dark bags beneath those eyes--and more because of corporate protocol,
“I’ll taaake. . .” Hassan tapped his chin, “two soft pretzels, two large popcorns, two nachos, and three hotdogs!” the young woman at the counter was shifted from her malaise momentarily and issued several amused--or perhaps offended--blinks,
“That will be… 35.72.” Hassan twisted and pleaded with Shati in silence. He wasn’t getting paid for being a superhero, not yet anyway.
“No. No, no, no! I’m not giving you anything! I’m calling ma!”

--

Downtown traffic was still infuriating. Rahna’s large black SUV was a gas guzzler anyway. She had just filled it and it was already on a half tank. She was less than enthused. With grad school looming around the corner, she couldn’t afford to fix that dump of a car again. Looming in the back of her mind was more doubt: doubt about whether she should even be going to school, it wasn’t like she was keeping up with the loan payments she already had; there was doubt about what would happen to her family if her cousin were to ever become a target. If he did, could she protect him? Worse, could she stop him? Pantheon, the warrior, was always violatile, violent, arrogant, aggressive. No other possessor of the entity had been able to subdue it when merged with it. She doubted her well-intentioned and bombastic cousin would fair any better.

Her bottled fears were exacerbated when she heard the radio fade into the foreground of her conscious,

“We warned you. We told you that compliance was non-negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.”
“The time for talk has passed. From this moment on, you are either with us or you are against us.”
“We are coming, and you will either stand with us, or you will burn with them.”

No. That couldn’t be coming from who she surmised. Not the Hounds! They already had Lost Haven in their clutches with the attack on the University a while back. They struck again? Where? What had they done this time? It was then that she got a text from Bibi,

’Did you hear the news’
‘no what happened’

The video Bibi sent was grainy, but one could make out the audio well enough: “A tragedy has occured in our nation today. The entire city of Paris, Texas has been wiped out, and millions have lost their lives in Philidelphia this afternoon. We have no word on how man”--the black figure then appeared on screen and delivered the message Rahna had just heard in her radio,

“We warned you. We told you that compliance was non-negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.”
“The time for talk has passed. From this moment on, you are either with us or you are against us.”
“We are coming, and you will either stand with us, or you will burn with them.”

Rahna’s gut twisted. She put a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. She couln’t veil her tears. Her phone slipped out of her hand. Her mind re-focused; her babies were out there. She had to go get them. The Hounds wouldn’t attack downtown would they? It was her dread of that unsurity that caused her to command the road in front of her: she weaved in and out of traffic, pushing well over 90. All the while, she grabbed her phone and called Shati.

Wee-oo, wee-oo, wee-oo

The cops were already on her.

--

Shati’s phone blazed a-ringing from inside her jeans’ pocket. After her outburst at Hassan, she answered it, her voice still salted with ire,

“HELLO? WHO IS THIS?”
Rahna pulled the phone away from her ear, “Why are you yelling? Is Panth--Hassan there?”
Shati let out an exasperated sigh, by now Manuel and Hassan had struck up a conversation. Shati had a strong desire to murder them both.
“Yeah, he’s here. Did you and ma send him here just to fuck with me?”
“What? No, first of all: watch your mouth. Second, just put him on the phone, Ti.”
“Pllth!” Shati wished she could punch Rahna in the face, too. Acquiesce, she handed the phone to Hassan. “It’s for you.”

Hassan took the phone from Shati, he held it to his ear like a 40 year old businessman trying to work a bluetooth for the first time. Then he spoke,

“Rahna. Are those sirens? Are you in dan--”
“I’m fine, Hassan! Listen: something terrible is happening--I think the Hounds are behind it. I-- ” one could hear the burst of the truck’s engine utilizing all of its horsepower and the police sirens humming in the back, several horns honked in syncopation. Rahna screamed out the window, “make sure Titi and her boyfriend are alright! And Hassan, I’m counting on you. Keep him under control. Don’t fuck up.”

When the line went dead, Hassan stared at the phone. A surge of frustration rippled through him and he crushed Shati’s phone in his hand. And just as subtle, fear. These Hounds had before killed innocents without mercy, taken away people’s rights to enact their lives and liberties on their own accord, and the Hounds had done it again, this time millions of bodies were destroyed because of them. They would be responsible for mothers weeping over their children’s closed caskets; because of them there would be children who were now orphans; there would be lit and silent vigils--useless thoughts and prayers.

And there would be no telling how many more would die, or if Hassan’s own family would be subject to their wrath. No. He wished he could destroy these Hounds himself, but that would be foolish--he would need help, but he knew of only the Alchemyst and Terra Firma. He would find others and there would be justice. He would take down these Hounds of Humanity--even if he had to give Pantheon control to do it.

Green Lantern Corps iCheck

yeah thats me lol

Green Lantern Corps iCheck

@Simple Unicycle @baraquiel

Your accounts were activated and I sent friend requests your way!

@Afro Samurai did you join that forum yet?

- Ω

@Omega Man

Joined.

Avatar: the Legend of the Lost

Budo

Budo

Age: 22

Personality: Joyous, aloof, melancholic. He is a slow speaker and enjoys nature; food is his greatest vice, his favorite meal is lobster crab stir fry. He can be defiant and is suspicious of most authority.

Background: Born to a village of farmers along the coastal tip of the Earth Kingdom's borders, Budo grew up aiding his elderly randparents and his two siblings on the farm. From an early age, Budo worked well with scythe and sickle and was an apt hunter of all manner of game thanks to his unusual height, weight, and strength. For much of his youth, Budo's life was mundane--until he discovered his ability to bend. Once his grandparents discovered his talents, they enlisted Budo in warlord An's army. After some time, Budo found himself disillusioned with the regimented life of military life and thus deserted. He has spent his recent years trying to avoid capture and raise enough money to leave the Earth Kingdom completely.

Bending Ability: He is a learned Earthbender, able to perform all basic techniques; his style of bending is sluggish and powerful but lacks the speed and fluidity of some of his fellow benders. He prefers to plant himself and makes use of a mixture of Muay Thai and Huang Gar kinetic motions when bending.

Other: Carries a fishing pole, scythe, and a metal pot for cooking. He is a skilled cook, hunter, and his massive build makes him a devastating bender when he is rooted.

Sample Post: roleplayerguild.com/posts/4620172