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<Snipped quote by Bounce>
Too late! Your application for The Bookworm has been Accepted! We'll expect a post from you within the week!
Syaoran was confused.
This was usually the case when dealing with adults, but these adults seemed more confusing than those he usually consorted with.
The rainbow faded as the shield vanished. Ashe brought Melissa a coffee and then Melissa started talking about Star City. To be completely honest, Sai had tuned them out at that point. Large, soft violet eyes peered around the room.
Sai had grown up in a tower apartment, but not like that. Glass walls with panoramic views of the city – over the city to be precise – as the Stark Tower dominated the surrounding cityscape.
The boy’s hands had grabbed hold of the front of the t-shirt that he wore, tugging and twisting the fabric idly as the child’s mind tried to work through a doubt that seemed to be rising up from within him.
Ashe was a criminal. And the guy from the elevator was the Joker? Taking a second look at the four-armed alien, a question started to form in the boy’s mind. Were they all here because they’d done something bad?
The implication caused his heart to sink. Was that why his mum had been so eager to send him off like that?
Was he here because he’d done something bad?
L O N D O N
24 hours earlier
“Ghaaaaa!”
Mister Stark’s outburst snapped the boy back to the conversation in the room. His plumage seems to bounce slightly as the child’s head popped up, scanning the room as the adults started talking again. He got as far as Melissa mentioning Green Arrow before his attention wandered away again.
“Hi, this is my first AA meeting,” the one Ashe had referred to as the Joker remarked, with a snort-laugh that caught the boy’s attention, even if the joke itself didn’t land.
Tilting his head to one side, the boy’s expression belied his confusion as he asked, “What’s AA?” If it had something to do with their meeting, then should he know this? He should probably know this.
Then again, if Mister Stark was Iron Man, and if this really was some kind of superhero camp, then it might be Avengers Academy.
It was probably Avengers Academy. Now he felt dumb for asking.
If Sai were lost for most of the talk, Michael – or rather, Viral – had the boy’s rapt attention. “You’re an alien, too?” the boy uttered brightly. Hiro’s fanclub had officially disbanded. The Order of Viral Fanboys, Local 101, had formed in its place. For however long Sai’s attention span lasted this round. Cementing this momentous occasion, the British born Shi’ar gave an approving murmur that declared Michael/Viral “Cool.”
Chie was the next to go, after which the woman pointed at him and said, “What about you kid?”
“Huh?” The large, violet eyes swept up to glance at Chie. Or Shuriken. Or was it Jordan? Because wasn’t that also a given name?
“Oh, uh, I’m Sai,” the boy answered, giving the shortened version of his given name. “My mum’s from a planet called Chandilar,” he added, glancing over at Michael before he looked around the room with a shrug and said, “She’s the hero. I just go to school mostly.”
“Who’s your mom?” Chie asked, prompting the boy to look over at her. “Maybe our parents knew each other.”
“Cerise,” the boy supplied. Was that her code name? Did his mum have a code name? Really, it was just her name. Back to the topic at hand, the boy added, “She’s with Excalibur.”
This was usually the case when dealing with adults, but these adults seemed more confusing than those he usually consorted with.
The rainbow faded as the shield vanished. Ashe brought Melissa a coffee and then Melissa started talking about Star City. To be completely honest, Sai had tuned them out at that point. Large, soft violet eyes peered around the room.
Sai had grown up in a tower apartment, but not like that. Glass walls with panoramic views of the city – over the city to be precise – as the Stark Tower dominated the surrounding cityscape.
The boy’s hands had grabbed hold of the front of the t-shirt that he wore, tugging and twisting the fabric idly as the child’s mind tried to work through a doubt that seemed to be rising up from within him.
Ashe was a criminal. And the guy from the elevator was the Joker? Taking a second look at the four-armed alien, a question started to form in the boy’s mind. Were they all here because they’d done something bad?
The implication caused his heart to sink. Was that why his mum had been so eager to send him off like that?
Was he here because he’d done something bad?
+ - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - +
L O N D O N
24 hours earlier
The tranquility of the school grounds was broken as the doors opened, releasing a horde of children clad in the same uniform out into the yard for a welcome respite between classes.
They were all between eleven and thirteen. Clad in a black jumper that had red piping, reflecting the colors of the logo embroidered on the chest. Some had their sleeves rolled back. Some girls wore skirts, others favored trousers. Some were light skinned, others dark, and quite a number of shades in between but they all looked like typical kids in a British school. No matter what qualities defined them, no one child seemed out of place.
Except one.
As he came out of the school, he might have looked ordinary enough. The sleeves of the white dress shirt worn beneath the jumper were rolled back on his arms. The bare skin caught the sunlight and almost seemed to shine. The golden complexion distinct from the other children. A black feather was stuck on the shoulder of the jumper he wore, having fallen from the shaggy plumage that framed the child’s head.
As he looked up, the violet irises – like his skin color – belied something that wasn’t human. The lines around his eyes gave him an appearance like guyliner, though the edges wrapped both above the eye onto the brow as well as down over the cheek. To the members of the extraterrestrial Shi’ar race, these marks told a story of genetic lineage.
To humanity, they told a different story.
Almost as soon as the boy had appeared, the ruckus began. From the other side of the black iron fence that marked the school ground, people littered around, pointing and jeering. Some held signs that read Isaiah 13:5 or 2 Corinthians 11:14.
They were a familiar sight. His entourage. When he’d been in the lower grades, the protestors had been positioned outside of that school. When he’d transferred to St. John the Evangelist Academy for Year 7, the protests had picked up and moved with him.
Pulling out a pair of noise canceling headphones, the feather-headed child flicked the switch on the side and immediately the chanting of the crowd was replaced by Greta Van Fleet. Another black feather fell away from the boy’s head, as he started to bop his head in time with the guitar rift resonating in his head.
Soft purple eyes scanned the yard, the boy walking toward where a group of boys was motioning him over. The trio were kicking around a football. Two even played on the school team. Syaoran didn’t, of course. He knew there were different opinions about kids with powers doing sports, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. And when he got excited, he also got careless.
As he walked toward the three, the Shi’ar boy reached up to pull the headphones down so that they hung around his neck...
A few of his feathers bristled visibly. They were known as the pin feathers. The Shi’ar had an expression about them that closely mirrored the human phrase about hair standing up on the neck, but Syaoran couldn’t have said just what had caused it in that moment.
A girl’s squeal caused the boy to turn his head, which is when the blur of motion coming at him from the right caught his attention. Syaoran snapped a hand up, but was off balance and what was happening hadn’t yet sunk in.
He reached for the arm that was coming at him, realizing a moment too late that there was a knife.
To those watching, it might have appeared like Syaoran were Superman. A shimmer of light the only slight detail of the barrier that deflected the blade from stabbing the boy.
A moment later the knife fell to the ground. A shriek of pain pierced the air, stunning all of the children into silence as a pit formed in Syaoran’s stomach.
He’d only meant to grab the man’s arm.
The boy felt the bones beneath the skin shatter at his touch. The sound echoing in the boy’s ears as the man’s hand seemed to go limp, dropping the blade as the scream cut through the air...
They were all between eleven and thirteen. Clad in a black jumper that had red piping, reflecting the colors of the logo embroidered on the chest. Some had their sleeves rolled back. Some girls wore skirts, others favored trousers. Some were light skinned, others dark, and quite a number of shades in between but they all looked like typical kids in a British school. No matter what qualities defined them, no one child seemed out of place.
Except one.
As he came out of the school, he might have looked ordinary enough. The sleeves of the white dress shirt worn beneath the jumper were rolled back on his arms. The bare skin caught the sunlight and almost seemed to shine. The golden complexion distinct from the other children. A black feather was stuck on the shoulder of the jumper he wore, having fallen from the shaggy plumage that framed the child’s head.
As he looked up, the violet irises – like his skin color – belied something that wasn’t human. The lines around his eyes gave him an appearance like guyliner, though the edges wrapped both above the eye onto the brow as well as down over the cheek. To the members of the extraterrestrial Shi’ar race, these marks told a story of genetic lineage.
To humanity, they told a different story.
Almost as soon as the boy had appeared, the ruckus began. From the other side of the black iron fence that marked the school ground, people littered around, pointing and jeering. Some held signs that read Isaiah 13:5 or 2 Corinthians 11:14.
They were a familiar sight. His entourage. When he’d been in the lower grades, the protestors had been positioned outside of that school. When he’d transferred to St. John the Evangelist Academy for Year 7, the protests had picked up and moved with him.
Pulling out a pair of noise canceling headphones, the feather-headed child flicked the switch on the side and immediately the chanting of the crowd was replaced by Greta Van Fleet. Another black feather fell away from the boy’s head, as he started to bop his head in time with the guitar rift resonating in his head.
Soft purple eyes scanned the yard, the boy walking toward where a group of boys was motioning him over. The trio were kicking around a football. Two even played on the school team. Syaoran didn’t, of course. He knew there were different opinions about kids with powers doing sports, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. And when he got excited, he also got careless.
As he walked toward the three, the Shi’ar boy reached up to pull the headphones down so that they hung around his neck...
A few of his feathers bristled visibly. They were known as the pin feathers. The Shi’ar had an expression about them that closely mirrored the human phrase about hair standing up on the neck, but Syaoran couldn’t have said just what had caused it in that moment.
A girl’s squeal caused the boy to turn his head, which is when the blur of motion coming at him from the right caught his attention. Syaoran snapped a hand up, but was off balance and what was happening hadn’t yet sunk in.
He reached for the arm that was coming at him, realizing a moment too late that there was a knife.
To those watching, it might have appeared like Syaoran were Superman. A shimmer of light the only slight detail of the barrier that deflected the blade from stabbing the boy.
A moment later the knife fell to the ground. A shriek of pain pierced the air, stunning all of the children into silence as a pit formed in Syaoran’s stomach.
He’d only meant to grab the man’s arm.
The boy felt the bones beneath the skin shatter at his touch. The sound echoing in the boy’s ears as the man’s hand seemed to go limp, dropping the blade as the scream cut through the air...
+ - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - +
“Ghaaaaa!”
Mister Stark’s outburst snapped the boy back to the conversation in the room. His plumage seems to bounce slightly as the child’s head popped up, scanning the room as the adults started talking again. He got as far as Melissa mentioning Green Arrow before his attention wandered away again.
“Hi, this is my first AA meeting,” the one Ashe had referred to as the Joker remarked, with a snort-laugh that caught the boy’s attention, even if the joke itself didn’t land.
Tilting his head to one side, the boy’s expression belied his confusion as he asked, “What’s AA?” If it had something to do with their meeting, then should he know this? He should probably know this.
Then again, if Mister Stark was Iron Man, and if this really was some kind of superhero camp, then it might be Avengers Academy.
It was probably Avengers Academy. Now he felt dumb for asking.
If Sai were lost for most of the talk, Michael – or rather, Viral – had the boy’s rapt attention. “You’re an alien, too?” the boy uttered brightly. Hiro’s fanclub had officially disbanded. The Order of Viral Fanboys, Local 101, had formed in its place. For however long Sai’s attention span lasted this round. Cementing this momentous occasion, the British born Shi’ar gave an approving murmur that declared Michael/Viral “Cool.”
Chie was the next to go, after which the woman pointed at him and said, “What about you kid?”
“Huh?” The large, violet eyes swept up to glance at Chie. Or Shuriken. Or was it Jordan? Because wasn’t that also a given name?
“Oh, uh, I’m Sai,” the boy answered, giving the shortened version of his given name. “My mum’s from a planet called Chandilar,” he added, glancing over at Michael before he looked around the room with a shrug and said, “She’s the hero. I just go to school mostly.”
“Who’s your mom?” Chie asked, prompting the boy to look over at her. “Maybe our parents knew each other.”
“Cerise,” the boy supplied. Was that her code name? Did his mum have a code name? Really, it was just her name. Back to the topic at hand, the boy added, “She’s with Excalibur.”
"Don't suppose either of you know where the coffee machine is? I'm in dire need of a refill."
A woman with blonde hair had come in, looking for the Starbucks? The small Shi’ar had just shuffled his feet, still glancing around the room in obvious discomfort for how much he didn’t fit in. Or even know why he was there.
His mom wasn’t exactly one for lengthy explanations. Was this some kind of superhero camp? Was this, like, superhero school? He hadn’t really gotten any details other than find Mister Stark – which he’d apparently done now – and then he and his mom would talk later.
All of these doubts promptly left the feather-headed boy’s mind when, a moment later, Iron Man showed up and showed out!
...wait, that wasn’t Iron Man. Didn’t Iron Man have a different suit?
Whatever. It was power armor. And it was awesome.
“Hello, my name is Hiro,” this legendary figure of legendary armor of awesome uttered, as the helmet was removed to reveal...
...a teenager?
Whatever! It was still awesome. Particularly in the eyes of a kid who still played with transformers. Sai had no idea who Hiro was, but whoever the Iron Teenager was, Sai was already a huge fan.
“ Wow. The Black Panther JR, Stark, a small kid and a fcking power ranger... "
The F-bomb didn’t startle him. His dad drove a cab in London. Sai heard worse than that in the pub when his dad would start shouting about how Arsenal just walked it in.
No, for starters, he looked around at the mention of the Black Panther. Because Black Panther was, like, legend. But Sai didn’t see anyone fitting that bill. Mister Stark was the old guy with the goatee, right? So then Black Panther, Jr, was… the guy in the white suit?
How did that even make sense?
And the Power Ranger was... Hiro? Hiro looked nothing like a Power Ranger! And Sai knew Power Rangers. He’d been watching them since he was... well, old enough to remember watching anything. One, their suits were never that cool. Two, if anything Hiro would be closer to one of the Zords than an actual Ranger. Did this woman even know what she was talking about? Because Sai was starting to have doubts.
“ Anyways, I’m Ashe. Your very own resident supervillain. "
Seriously. Doubts might have been an understatement.
Two more adults joined them, with the woman coming in as though she’d just finished a workout in the gym.
Mister Stark didn’t seem thrilled. "Ok. Go ahead a get Miss triathlon a bottle of water, a coffee for Miss Lance, did I miss anything?"
“ Oh my, oh my. Looks like we’ve got the baby Joker in person, ” the super sus lady named Ashe blurted out. Then there were images that just seemed to appear around her. And a pair of puppets on her hands?
Then she was gone.
Or, no, she was standing next to the workout lady.
Before the boy’s eyes could even follow the sudden swap, Ashe seemed to douse the other woman with water.
Then she was gone. Or back where she’d been standing before?
And the water was gone..?
Another man walked into the room, prompting the already excited Ashe to point a hand at him as she said something.
Sai wasn’t paying any attention to that. Instead, his gaze locked on where a blade seemed to form right above the newcomer’s head.
The child’s eyes seemed to glow, the soft violet irises blanched as his powers kicked in. Throwing a hand up of his own, a rainbow seemed to leap across the room as a spinning disc-like shield that seemed formed of pure light appeared between the man and the falling blade.
...that was when everything seemed to go right to hell.
To start with, the blade passed right through his shield as though it was not even there.
Second, the man was no longer a man. Or, not the same man? There were four arms and a lot of teeth.
And with the second, came a scream. And not, like, a little scream. The scream is what caused the Shi’ar boy to launch into the air, his feet now hovering about a meter off the floor as the child’s shield vanished and the child just stared at Chie, then Mister Four Arms, then Ashe in turn.
“Bloody ‘ell,” the boy uttered flatly.
That was about all there was to say about all that.
A woman with blonde hair had come in, looking for the Starbucks? The small Shi’ar had just shuffled his feet, still glancing around the room in obvious discomfort for how much he didn’t fit in. Or even know why he was there.
His mom wasn’t exactly one for lengthy explanations. Was this some kind of superhero camp? Was this, like, superhero school? He hadn’t really gotten any details other than find Mister Stark – which he’d apparently done now – and then he and his mom would talk later.
All of these doubts promptly left the feather-headed boy’s mind when, a moment later, Iron Man showed up and showed out!
...wait, that wasn’t Iron Man. Didn’t Iron Man have a different suit?
Whatever. It was power armor. And it was awesome.
“Hello, my name is Hiro,” this legendary figure of legendary armor of awesome uttered, as the helmet was removed to reveal...
...a teenager?
Whatever! It was still awesome. Particularly in the eyes of a kid who still played with transformers. Sai had no idea who Hiro was, but whoever the Iron Teenager was, Sai was already a huge fan.
“ Wow. The Black Panther JR, Stark, a small kid and a fcking power ranger... "
The F-bomb didn’t startle him. His dad drove a cab in London. Sai heard worse than that in the pub when his dad would start shouting about how Arsenal just walked it in.
No, for starters, he looked around at the mention of the Black Panther. Because Black Panther was, like, legend. But Sai didn’t see anyone fitting that bill. Mister Stark was the old guy with the goatee, right? So then Black Panther, Jr, was… the guy in the white suit?
How did that even make sense?
And the Power Ranger was... Hiro? Hiro looked nothing like a Power Ranger! And Sai knew Power Rangers. He’d been watching them since he was... well, old enough to remember watching anything. One, their suits were never that cool. Two, if anything Hiro would be closer to one of the Zords than an actual Ranger. Did this woman even know what she was talking about? Because Sai was starting to have doubts.
“ Anyways, I’m Ashe. Your very own resident supervillain. "
Seriously. Doubts might have been an understatement.
Two more adults joined them, with the woman coming in as though she’d just finished a workout in the gym.
Mister Stark didn’t seem thrilled. "Ok. Go ahead a get Miss triathlon a bottle of water, a coffee for Miss Lance, did I miss anything?"
“ Oh my, oh my. Looks like we’ve got the baby Joker in person, ” the super sus lady named Ashe blurted out. Then there were images that just seemed to appear around her. And a pair of puppets on her hands?
Then she was gone.
Or, no, she was standing next to the workout lady.
Before the boy’s eyes could even follow the sudden swap, Ashe seemed to douse the other woman with water.
Then she was gone. Or back where she’d been standing before?
And the water was gone..?
Another man walked into the room, prompting the already excited Ashe to point a hand at him as she said something.
Sai wasn’t paying any attention to that. Instead, his gaze locked on where a blade seemed to form right above the newcomer’s head.
The child’s eyes seemed to glow, the soft violet irises blanched as his powers kicked in. Throwing a hand up of his own, a rainbow seemed to leap across the room as a spinning disc-like shield that seemed formed of pure light appeared between the man and the falling blade.
...that was when everything seemed to go right to hell.
To start with, the blade passed right through his shield as though it was not even there.
Second, the man was no longer a man. Or, not the same man? There were four arms and a lot of teeth.
And with the second, came a scream. And not, like, a little scream. The scream is what caused the Shi’ar boy to launch into the air, his feet now hovering about a meter off the floor as the child’s shield vanished and the child just stared at Chie, then Mister Four Arms, then Ashe in turn.
“Bloody ‘ell,” the boy uttered flatly.
That was about all there was to say about all that.
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Did I kill the thread?
I can take back my compliment to Sep if that's what did it!
I can take back my compliment to Sep if that's what did it!
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
So to try and get us feeling good about eachother, what are y'all favourite character interpretations from this thread?
I'm enjoying Director Rogers. Its familiar, but a great take on "Old Man Cap".
E A R L I E R
London | The United Kingdom
PRESENT DAY
New York | The United States
London | The United Kingdom
“You’re watching BBC London. I’m John Patrick and this is the news.”
“Parents in the north of London are in an uproar this evening, as a protest turned violent outside John the Evangelist Academy, a secondary school in Tottenham. The Metropolitan Police Service are investigating the incident, which appeared to involve a protester brandishing a knife against a student believed to be both human and an extraterrestrial. The protest outside the school had been to voice opposition to the child’s attendance at the institution, and follows many earlier such protests regarding the role of mutation or extraterrestrials in Britain.”
“The child is reported to be unharmed and is not being named in our report because of his age. The alleged assailant in this incident was taken to a local hospital with what the Metropolitan Police are describing as non-life threatening injuries.”
“School officials have indicated that they will make available counseling services for students who may have been affected by the violence. We’ll have more on this story as the news develops.”
“In weather, the cold trend continues...”
The television blinked off. The man tossed the remote aside, a hand brushing against the stubble marking his face as he gave a heavy sigh.
Turning, the man peered over where an feminine silhouette was framed in a doorway, her body tense as she seemed lost in thought, peering inside of the room. As Chas made his way over to her, the man put his arms around the Shi’ar warrior, drawing her against him – the familiar feel of her feathers brushing against his cheek – as the two stared off into the dim bedroom.
Inside, a child slept soundly.
“The good Reverend’s been spewing hellfire the last month. Was only a matter of time before it got violent,” Chas noted in a quiet voice.
“Would that your good Reverend would challenge me openly,” Cerise hissed in a low whisper.
“Cowards don’t work that way, Love,” Chas answered dryly. Then, guiding his wife away from the doorway, drew the door shut. “And we can’t protect him forever,” the man noted somberly.
“You sound like that Alistaire,” the feathered amazon opined dryly, as the woman slipped from the man’s arm and moved toward the master bedroom in the back of the flat. “MI-13 wants to take Sai. Protective custody.”
“I don’t much like it either, Love,” Chas opined candidly, following behind his wife. “I want him to have a life – a normal life – but we can’t even send him to school without people protesting outside the gates.”
Making her way over by the wardrobe, the woman started removing her armor. “Half the United Kingdom wants to exorcize him like a demon, the other half want to study him like some...”
“Alien?”
As soon as he’d offered it, Chas winced with regret. The glare that Cerise hit him with made clear it was a poor choice of words.
Holding up his hands, the man tried to push on past the flub. “I think most don’t rightly care one way or another. We’re just caught up dealing with the wankers on either side.”
The look of disapproval didn’t leave her face. As he pulled back the duvet and got ready for bed himself, the man watched his wife for a moment. Then, finally, said, “Something else is bothering you.”
Cerise slipped into her side of the bed. “I received an... alternative proposal,” the woman noted, as Chas joined her in the bed.
“I’m not sure MI-13 is giving us an option so...” the man uttered in a matter-of-fact tone. Looking over at the woman next to him, he added, “What’s the alternative?”
The Shi’ar rolled on her side, a hand picking something up from the nightstand, and then rolling over as she passed the note to her husband.
A quizzical look crossed the cab driver’s face, as the man unfolded the missive and rolled closer to the light in order to read it.
When he had finished, the man lowered the note and blurted aloud, “You’re not honestly suggesting we trust our son to Tony bloody Stark?”
“Parents in the north of London are in an uproar this evening, as a protest turned violent outside John the Evangelist Academy, a secondary school in Tottenham. The Metropolitan Police Service are investigating the incident, which appeared to involve a protester brandishing a knife against a student believed to be both human and an extraterrestrial. The protest outside the school had been to voice opposition to the child’s attendance at the institution, and follows many earlier such protests regarding the role of mutation or extraterrestrials in Britain.”
“The child is reported to be unharmed and is not being named in our report because of his age. The alleged assailant in this incident was taken to a local hospital with what the Metropolitan Police are describing as non-life threatening injuries.”
“School officials have indicated that they will make available counseling services for students who may have been affected by the violence. We’ll have more on this story as the news develops.”
“In weather, the cold trend continues...”
The television blinked off. The man tossed the remote aside, a hand brushing against the stubble marking his face as he gave a heavy sigh.
Turning, the man peered over where an feminine silhouette was framed in a doorway, her body tense as she seemed lost in thought, peering inside of the room. As Chas made his way over to her, the man put his arms around the Shi’ar warrior, drawing her against him – the familiar feel of her feathers brushing against his cheek – as the two stared off into the dim bedroom.
Inside, a child slept soundly.
“The good Reverend’s been spewing hellfire the last month. Was only a matter of time before it got violent,” Chas noted in a quiet voice.
“Would that your good Reverend would challenge me openly,” Cerise hissed in a low whisper.
“Cowards don’t work that way, Love,” Chas answered dryly. Then, guiding his wife away from the doorway, drew the door shut. “And we can’t protect him forever,” the man noted somberly.
“You sound like that Alistaire,” the feathered amazon opined dryly, as the woman slipped from the man’s arm and moved toward the master bedroom in the back of the flat. “MI-13 wants to take Sai. Protective custody.”
“I don’t much like it either, Love,” Chas opined candidly, following behind his wife. “I want him to have a life – a normal life – but we can’t even send him to school without people protesting outside the gates.”
Making her way over by the wardrobe, the woman started removing her armor. “Half the United Kingdom wants to exorcize him like a demon, the other half want to study him like some...”
“Alien?”
As soon as he’d offered it, Chas winced with regret. The glare that Cerise hit him with made clear it was a poor choice of words.
Holding up his hands, the man tried to push on past the flub. “I think most don’t rightly care one way or another. We’re just caught up dealing with the wankers on either side.”
The look of disapproval didn’t leave her face. As he pulled back the duvet and got ready for bed himself, the man watched his wife for a moment. Then, finally, said, “Something else is bothering you.”
Cerise slipped into her side of the bed. “I received an... alternative proposal,” the woman noted, as Chas joined her in the bed.
“I’m not sure MI-13 is giving us an option so...” the man uttered in a matter-of-fact tone. Looking over at the woman next to him, he added, “What’s the alternative?”
The Shi’ar rolled on her side, a hand picking something up from the nightstand, and then rolling over as she passed the note to her husband.
A quizzical look crossed the cab driver’s face, as the man unfolded the missive and rolled closer to the light in order to read it.
When he had finished, the man lowered the note and blurted aloud, “You’re not honestly suggesting we trust our son to Tony bloody Stark?”
+ - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - +
PRESENT DAY
New York | The United States
Sai didn’t get a whole lot of time to digest what was happening.
He’d woken up. Had some corn flakes. And then his mum had told him he was going to the United States. Not the normal way, either. Daytripper was going to give him a portal. London to New York in the blink of an eye.
The child found himself in freefall, taking a step through the portal and apparently stepping right off the edge of the sky itself.
A burst of light radiated from out of him, a myriad of colors sparkling as a rainbow seemed to swirl around him as his powers kicked in, slowing his descent to a halt as he righted himself in mid-air.
All around him, a metropolis spread from the sea inward. It was a lot like flying over London. Buildings on top of buildings. He’d been told to find someone named Stark. But how was he going to find one man in a city the size of... well, the size of New York?
As the boy turned in mid-air, one building stood out among the rest. To start with, he was right next to it. Secondly, the building had the word STARK across it. “Oh,” the boy uttered, large violet eyes blinking with the realization that this might not actually be very difficult at all.
For a moment, the youth pondered what he was supposed to do next. Should he fly down and walk in the front door? The top of the building looked like it was made for someone to fly in and land though. Drifting closer to the building, the boy set his feet down on the terraced landing pad.
A pair of flying drones came into view about the same time. Though, Sai realized a second later that there were several more hovering around as well.
“Uh, hi?” the British child uttered sheepishly, as he fidgeted from side to side.
To his surprise, a moment later the drones seemed to move aside, leaving open the pathway to the door that was now visible at the end of the ramp that Sai had landed upon. Hesitating for a moment, the feathered child made his way into the glassed-in suite, with a large couch and two men inside.
The small Shi’ar was a mass of black feathers, his slight frame swallowed by the faded Mucous Membrane t-shirt that he wore. A pair of Nike’s dressed his feet, making him appear to be quite an ordinary kid. Which, he was an ordinary kid.
Just not entirely human.
He’d woken up. Had some corn flakes. And then his mum had told him he was going to the United States. Not the normal way, either. Daytripper was going to give him a portal. London to New York in the blink of an eye.
The child found himself in freefall, taking a step through the portal and apparently stepping right off the edge of the sky itself.
A burst of light radiated from out of him, a myriad of colors sparkling as a rainbow seemed to swirl around him as his powers kicked in, slowing his descent to a halt as he righted himself in mid-air.
All around him, a metropolis spread from the sea inward. It was a lot like flying over London. Buildings on top of buildings. He’d been told to find someone named Stark. But how was he going to find one man in a city the size of... well, the size of New York?
As the boy turned in mid-air, one building stood out among the rest. To start with, he was right next to it. Secondly, the building had the word STARK across it. “Oh,” the boy uttered, large violet eyes blinking with the realization that this might not actually be very difficult at all.
For a moment, the youth pondered what he was supposed to do next. Should he fly down and walk in the front door? The top of the building looked like it was made for someone to fly in and land though. Drifting closer to the building, the boy set his feet down on the terraced landing pad.
A pair of flying drones came into view about the same time. Though, Sai realized a second later that there were several more hovering around as well.
“Uh, hi?” the British child uttered sheepishly, as he fidgeted from side to side.
To his surprise, a moment later the drones seemed to move aside, leaving open the pathway to the door that was now visible at the end of the ramp that Sai had landed upon. Hesitating for a moment, the feathered child made his way into the glassed-in suite, with a large couch and two men inside.
The small Shi’ar was a mass of black feathers, his slight frame swallowed by the faded Mucous Membrane t-shirt that he wore. A pair of Nike’s dressed his feet, making him appear to be quite an ordinary kid. Which, he was an ordinary kid.
Just not entirely human.
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
A short and crappy post, but its a post.
Whoever posts next gets the 200th IC post!
Whoever posts next gets the 200th IC post!
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
S E A S O N O N E : H O M E C O M I N G Location: Newport, Rhode Island
Multiverse Mayhem Tie-In: X-Men/New Mutants
Interaction(s): @Retired
A brilliant flash blossomed outward from among the city block.
The force of the explosion struck before the sound followed, though in the shock of the force the only people who heard it were the masses huddled in the Morlock Tunnels. A tremor shook the dust from the ceiling and overhead pipes, as a loud rumble resonated through the earth.
From far above, there was nothing more than a flash caught in the clouds, as something like thunder rose from below.
Flaring one wing, the young Angel circled back over the city. “Uhhh, Dani? What was that?” the boy asked.
The question was only met with silence.
People had been talking over the communicators earlier, though, right? Were they not supposed to? “Katie? Are you guys okay?” the boy called out, finding no answer.
…wait, it wasn’t silence. Had there been this static before?
Another flash flickered below the clouds. A momentary glimpse of something red, before a beam lanced upward. The ray missed the blue-skinned child by mere inches. A yelp escaped as realization set in a second later, as a second flash heralded another piecing beam of light searing up through the clouds from the streets below.
Folding into a fetal ball, the boy’s wings tucked around his small form as he instinctively flinched. The world spun wildly, as the ray impacted against his left wing – bits of metal knocked loose as the silvery techno-organic material reflected the beam off, even as the child was batted out of the air.
Straightening his body out, the boy grimaced as he tries to spread his wings. The left wing seemed jammed, part of its hinge and joint restricted by the damage from the blast. With the right wing extended, he was spiraling in freefall.
Gulping in a breath of air, the boy tried to rotate against the spin, his wings fluttering with as much force as he could muster. The momentum seemed to stall, though between each beat of the wings, he’d drop precariously in the air.
He was bobbing just a few meters over the tops of a group of buildings, crashing down on top of a roof in a tumble of limbs and the flash of metal.
It was a rough landing.
He lay there for a second, dazed and winded as he wondered for a moment if he was still alive. Then the pain started filtering in. Wincing, the boy pushed himself up from the rooftop, so that he was sitting up. Rearing the wings up behind him, the left forewing was hanging at an odd angle.
Shifting around so that he was on his hands and knees, the boy crept toward the roof’s edge to peer over the ledge and get a sense of where he was.
The small gremlin-dudes were skittering about below, barking in a language that the boy couldn’t make out. And the static was still crackling over the communications line.
Was he all alone?
The force of the explosion struck before the sound followed, though in the shock of the force the only people who heard it were the masses huddled in the Morlock Tunnels. A tremor shook the dust from the ceiling and overhead pipes, as a loud rumble resonated through the earth.
From far above, there was nothing more than a flash caught in the clouds, as something like thunder rose from below.
Flaring one wing, the young Angel circled back over the city. “Uhhh, Dani? What was that?” the boy asked.
The question was only met with silence.
People had been talking over the communicators earlier, though, right? Were they not supposed to? “Katie? Are you guys okay?” the boy called out, finding no answer.
…wait, it wasn’t silence. Had there been this static before?
Another flash flickered below the clouds. A momentary glimpse of something red, before a beam lanced upward. The ray missed the blue-skinned child by mere inches. A yelp escaped as realization set in a second later, as a second flash heralded another piecing beam of light searing up through the clouds from the streets below.
Folding into a fetal ball, the boy’s wings tucked around his small form as he instinctively flinched. The world spun wildly, as the ray impacted against his left wing – bits of metal knocked loose as the silvery techno-organic material reflected the beam off, even as the child was batted out of the air.
Straightening his body out, the boy grimaced as he tries to spread his wings. The left wing seemed jammed, part of its hinge and joint restricted by the damage from the blast. With the right wing extended, he was spiraling in freefall.
Gulping in a breath of air, the boy tried to rotate against the spin, his wings fluttering with as much force as he could muster. The momentum seemed to stall, though between each beat of the wings, he’d drop precariously in the air.
He was bobbing just a few meters over the tops of a group of buildings, crashing down on top of a roof in a tumble of limbs and the flash of metal.
It was a rough landing.
He lay there for a second, dazed and winded as he wondered for a moment if he was still alive. Then the pain started filtering in. Wincing, the boy pushed himself up from the rooftop, so that he was sitting up. Rearing the wings up behind him, the left forewing was hanging at an odd angle.
Shifting around so that he was on his hands and knees, the boy crept toward the roof’s edge to peer over the ledge and get a sense of where he was.
The small gremlin-dudes were skittering about below, barking in a language that the boy couldn’t make out. And the static was still crackling over the communications line.
Was he all alone?
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