I'm still here, however, if we only get me, Jordy, and c3p it might be best for the continuation of the RP to put out a call for some more characters. We've gone from like 20 to 3 really fast.
Bubsy 2 Member
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The truth was Emma would have inquired about leaving as well. The only thing that stopped her was the burden of a certain feeling of responsibility. Of course that responsibility wasn't one towards the world, her fellow man, or anything as passé that. That was simply not in her nature. She, instead, felt that it fell upon her to look after her fellow so-called 'Star Children'. She wasn't a big fan of the term, but what could she do? They were all young, certainly younger then her, and certainly far too young to be involved in some sort of intergalactic conflict, as smart and powerful as they may be. The youngest wasn't even a teenager- so Emma assumed, since she was, of course, unaware of their actual ages. The small girl was actually 14, but Emma was ignorant to that. Regardless of their ages they did need some sort of figure to watch over them besides the government spooks and the callous bounty hunters that made up whatever organization had picked them up. And so Emma took it upon herself to act as the older sister of the group.
The adults talked of psychic devices and D'nava and tanks and other things that Emma had no care for. She would do what was asked of her, but she wasn't interested in the conflict. She thought it was frankly quite pathetic that the government were asking children to fight their battles for them, even if those children did have otherworldly powers. Her only interest at this point was, once again, making sure that those junior to her were safe. One might think that the safety of the Human race would be among her interests, or perhaps the continuation of her own life, but Emma would be a nihilist to the end.
For the time being the group was ushered into a gym, no doubt with the expectation that they would begin developing their powers. Emma, of course, had no intent of doing such, but now was a good time to get a feel of the children's personalities. She already knew they were smart- allegedly they were all geniuses, herself included, but that was no matter. She was more interested in seeing if the kids were really prepared to be involved in a war. The government agent, Shirley, avoided using the word 'war', likely on purpose, but that's what they were really headed towards. She doubted her own ability to, if it came down to it, kill someone, alien or no. She doubted the children's resolve more, unless there was a sociopath embedded within the group.
Emma first headed to the dressing room. Her clothes were sweaty and dirty after the previous day's excursion. She momentarily considered showering but decided against it. She would use the time to figure out the others. She instead opted for the bag labeled 'Emma', containing gym clothes. Black yoga pants and a white t-shirt that fit a little too well. Of course, with the amount of surveillance she had suffered through it was completely unsurprising that they knew what size clothes she wore but she still did not like it. Her mislike of the situation was compounded by the choice of the oh-so-infamous form-fitting pants that made up her new outfit, but it was no matter, it was time to play the room.
She headed back into the gym and took a step back, examining the others. First her eyes fell upon a brown haired boy who must have been 13 or 14- one Cedric Wessex. He opted for the swimming pool, but his gaze seemed to be drawn elsewhere. She followed the stare to find it landing upon Stefan- the boy who had retrieved her from Cornell. He certainly seemed enamored with the boy, but that may have been coincidence. Interesting, she noted to herself. She also took note of the young girl, Lexi, whom she thought to be no more than 12. she juggled a weight above her- with her mind. Telekinesis. Very interesting. She did not take notice of the pair, Kimberly and Conner. Perhaps they had escaped her gaze, or were tied up in another room? (Or had not yet posted.) For the time being she would focus her attention on the young telekinetic.
She approached the girl slowly, not making her interest initially obvious. She first meandered past the treadmills, seeming to be examining the machine. And then she examined the strange crystals lined up in front of the mats, floating in the air. And then, finally, she approached the weights. She took a moment to observe the girl whilst she was juggling the weight. The girl was clearly albinic, a rare affliction marked by her white skin and red eyes, but Emma didn't let it throw her off. Finally she cleared her throat, waving at the girl to make her presence known- lest she surprise her and throw off her concentration, causing the heavy weight to crash down on her.
"Ms. Kingsley, isn't it? At least that's what Shirley called you, if memory serves." Emma moved closer to the girl, bending over slightly so she was eye level with her, smiling warmly. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
@TaliPaendrag
The adults talked of psychic devices and D'nava and tanks and other things that Emma had no care for. She would do what was asked of her, but she wasn't interested in the conflict. She thought it was frankly quite pathetic that the government were asking children to fight their battles for them, even if those children did have otherworldly powers. Her only interest at this point was, once again, making sure that those junior to her were safe. One might think that the safety of the Human race would be among her interests, or perhaps the continuation of her own life, but Emma would be a nihilist to the end.
For the time being the group was ushered into a gym, no doubt with the expectation that they would begin developing their powers. Emma, of course, had no intent of doing such, but now was a good time to get a feel of the children's personalities. She already knew they were smart- allegedly they were all geniuses, herself included, but that was no matter. She was more interested in seeing if the kids were really prepared to be involved in a war. The government agent, Shirley, avoided using the word 'war', likely on purpose, but that's what they were really headed towards. She doubted her own ability to, if it came down to it, kill someone, alien or no. She doubted the children's resolve more, unless there was a sociopath embedded within the group.
Emma first headed to the dressing room. Her clothes were sweaty and dirty after the previous day's excursion. She momentarily considered showering but decided against it. She would use the time to figure out the others. She instead opted for the bag labeled 'Emma', containing gym clothes. Black yoga pants and a white t-shirt that fit a little too well. Of course, with the amount of surveillance she had suffered through it was completely unsurprising that they knew what size clothes she wore but she still did not like it. Her mislike of the situation was compounded by the choice of the oh-so-infamous form-fitting pants that made up her new outfit, but it was no matter, it was time to play the room.
She headed back into the gym and took a step back, examining the others. First her eyes fell upon a brown haired boy who must have been 13 or 14- one Cedric Wessex. He opted for the swimming pool, but his gaze seemed to be drawn elsewhere. She followed the stare to find it landing upon Stefan- the boy who had retrieved her from Cornell. He certainly seemed enamored with the boy, but that may have been coincidence. Interesting, she noted to herself. She also took note of the young girl, Lexi, whom she thought to be no more than 12. she juggled a weight above her- with her mind. Telekinesis. Very interesting. She did not take notice of the pair, Kimberly and Conner. Perhaps they had escaped her gaze, or were tied up in another room? (Or had not yet posted.) For the time being she would focus her attention on the young telekinetic.
She approached the girl slowly, not making her interest initially obvious. She first meandered past the treadmills, seeming to be examining the machine. And then she examined the strange crystals lined up in front of the mats, floating in the air. And then, finally, she approached the weights. She took a moment to observe the girl whilst she was juggling the weight. The girl was clearly albinic, a rare affliction marked by her white skin and red eyes, but Emma didn't let it throw her off. Finally she cleared her throat, waving at the girl to make her presence known- lest she surprise her and throw off her concentration, causing the heavy weight to crash down on her.
"Ms. Kingsley, isn't it? At least that's what Shirley called you, if memory serves." Emma moved closer to the girl, bending over slightly so she was eye level with her, smiling warmly. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
@TaliPaendrag
@Scarifar@Diggerton@TaliPaendrag@Mass City@Simple Unicycle
Should I repost my GM Post? Scar, Dig, and Tali haven't replied yet.
I'm not really sure that's necessary- it's only been a day. There isn't really much to be said, I don't particularly feel I need to make a post until the plot is moved forward. Making a post about how Emma continues to sit in the chair seems like a bit of an exercise in futility, and a bit boring for both the writer and the reader.
The last several hours were a blur, mainly because Emma drifted in and out of sleep throughout their trip. She felt obliged to stay awake but didn't really care to; she wasn't going to have a choice in where they were going, after all. She didn't particularly like the idea of being a guinea pig in some government lab, but she knew better then to try to stage an escape on her lonesome. The boy who manipulated fire was certainly evidence enough that there were others like her, so if it came down to her needing to escape she could count on there being allies wherever she was going. Allies that would incidentally have super powers, to her fortune. So for the time being she resolved to be a compliant captive and go along for the ride.
The car took them to an airport, the airplane took them to another car where she was blindfolded upon entry, and then the car took them on what she estimated to be a several hour ride until she was finally released into a cell. Not exactly the kind of treatment she was used to but there wasn't much to be done on that count. Her cell was comfortable enough for the time being.
When one Stefan Zimov came to retrieve her, along with a small herd of children, she nodded, following behind. The group was ushered into an oddly disarming room resembling a classroom and sat down in front of a once again oddly disarming women who attempted to bring them up to speed with the situation. Emma lazed back in her seat, paying only a cursory amount of attention to the women. Instead what garnered her attention was the alien. It was always her opinion that alien life was an obvious conclusion: After all, in a universe with billion of planets it was a statistical improbability for Humans to be the only life to develop. She was still quite surprised at the appearance of the creature, as she certainly had not begun the day expecting to meet a walking, talking alien.
When it was the alien's turn he spoke of great alien conflicts and the origin of their powers. Emma at the very least had the intelligence to pay attention to a spectacle such as this instead of sleeping. Emma didn't have any reason to believe it was a lie, and when one of the children questioned the truth of the story Emma spoke up, clearing her throat.
"Well, the fact of the matter is that regardless of how true their story is, we have no choice but to believe it. After all, after going through the trouble of retrieving us they aren't just going to let us go. And besides, we have no reason to mistrust them; I myself cannot puzzle out a better explanation for our powers."
Emma leaned back in her chair, relaxing. She had no intent to ask any questions of her own. She had already resolved to 'go with the flow', so she did just that. She did, however, share Lexi's curiosity. Hopefully they didn't expect too much from her, as she would rather not spend her time involved in some intergalactic conflict.
The car took them to an airport, the airplane took them to another car where she was blindfolded upon entry, and then the car took them on what she estimated to be a several hour ride until she was finally released into a cell. Not exactly the kind of treatment she was used to but there wasn't much to be done on that count. Her cell was comfortable enough for the time being.
When one Stefan Zimov came to retrieve her, along with a small herd of children, she nodded, following behind. The group was ushered into an oddly disarming room resembling a classroom and sat down in front of a once again oddly disarming women who attempted to bring them up to speed with the situation. Emma lazed back in her seat, paying only a cursory amount of attention to the women. Instead what garnered her attention was the alien. It was always her opinion that alien life was an obvious conclusion: After all, in a universe with billion of planets it was a statistical improbability for Humans to be the only life to develop. She was still quite surprised at the appearance of the creature, as she certainly had not begun the day expecting to meet a walking, talking alien.
When it was the alien's turn he spoke of great alien conflicts and the origin of their powers. Emma at the very least had the intelligence to pay attention to a spectacle such as this instead of sleeping. Emma didn't have any reason to believe it was a lie, and when one of the children questioned the truth of the story Emma spoke up, clearing her throat.
"Well, the fact of the matter is that regardless of how true their story is, we have no choice but to believe it. After all, after going through the trouble of retrieving us they aren't just going to let us go. And besides, we have no reason to mistrust them; I myself cannot puzzle out a better explanation for our powers."
Emma leaned back in her chair, relaxing. She had no intent to ask any questions of her own. She had already resolved to 'go with the flow', so she did just that. She did, however, share Lexi's curiosity. Hopefully they didn't expect too much from her, as she would rather not spend her time involved in some intergalactic conflict.
I am here.
that's the point Cartwright is a don of a bitch with a multiple choice background. His actions will make him. If the players are clever they will discover bits of his past.
This may be an unwanted critique, but in my opinion a mystery isn't particularly interesting if there's no reason to be interested in it. All we know about Cartwright is:
- Name
- Male
- Forties
- Average looking
- Can 'kick ass' and is strategic
If you want people to be interested in his past there needs to be something that brings players in, a reason to search for that mystery. Players aren't going to be interested in the background of someone they know absolutely nothing about. It would be nice to put out at least a tidbit of information to pique people's interest.
I am present
The sun gradually grew from the dusky skyline, bringing the promise of a new day. The promise of a day of adventure, opportunity, excitement, an innumerable amount of possibilities. And, as was typical of her, Emma Rocha was asleep. And she would stay asleep for many hours to come. In fact, it wasn't until 2 PM that she reluctantly parted from her 'cocoon' of pillows and blankets. "I can't believe I have to wake up early for class." She muttered softly. Thank God for afternoon classes. That was one good thing to be said for college, along with the promise of better dining then the partly offering given to her by any number of private schools she had attended. Oh, and, of course there was the pursuit of a higher education and new avenues of knowledge. But that was inconsequential, of course, because while Emma attended classes to appease her parents she was loathe to stay awake for them. Even if she was awake she doubted she would learn much. She might have even felt guilty about wasting her parents money on tuition if it wasn't for the fact that they had access to a seemingly endless pool of riches and that they put her through several years of borderline emotional abuse.
But that was inconsequential as well. Emma couldn't give a fig or a fickle for her parents games, as she got quite adept at tuning them out. But, of course, the entire line of thought was also inconsequential because at the moment she had bigger concerns: Food. Her stomach was rumbling fiercely, as she had not had anything to eat since she went to bed nearly 18 hours ago. That would be 8 PM the previous day. It was rather standard fare for her- given the time she slept in class assuming she didn't have any obligations she would sleep a maximum of 22 hours a day. It was sleep, or play video games, or watch movies, or television, or eat, or sleep... It was rather baffling how such a life style was sustainable.
What was more baffling was the fact that Emma remained thin. She was willing to entertain the notion that if she was indeed developing superpowers that one of them must be some sort of super metabolism. Today for breakfast (or lunch, depending on your perspective) she prepared a pot of instant noodles. Her diet consisted almost entirely of the sodium rich dish, as it was quick to prepare and wouldn't cut into the time she spent pursuing her rest. Given this and her extremely sedentary lifestyle it was a wonder that she subsisted at all, being the reason that she plays with thoughts of super metabolism.
It wasn't crazy, it wouldn't be her first superpower. During her morning routine that centered around the consumption of tasty noodles shadows dance wildly across the walls of her dorm. In most cases one would use the phrase 'shadows dance' in a figurative way, but it is meant very literally. Emma had discovered a curious ability: She could control shadows. It was an odd and unexplained phenomenon that Emma had no intent of sharing. It was fortunate that she didn't have a roommate. Well, that is to say, she didn't think she had a roommate. She couldn't disprove the existence of a mysterious stranger that haunted her dorm room during the hours which she spent sleeping. That would explain how the fridge always mysteriously filled itself... and the other bed. And all the other assorted objects that didn't belong to her.
Now she wasn't so sure she didn't have a roommate.
For the time being her ramen was finished and she had no choice but to take a shower. She enjoyed the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin. Plus it didn't hurt to feel clean. Of course, given the choice, she would be using the time she spent on personal hygiene sleeping, but she at the very least had the wisdom to understand the necessity of showering and dental hygiene. After she had finished cleansing she was obliged to dress for class. She always wore the same things- Sweaters, sweatpants, whatever was comfortable. It was easier to sleep in. She would worry about looking pretty when she had a reason to care about it.
With her begrudging morning routine done Emma reluctantly dragged herself to class. She always noticed people looked at her. Maybe it was because of the way she shuffled slowly, head hung low and signs of sleepiness displaying clearly on her face. To others she must have looked like some kind of reanimated corpse willing itself forward. Perhaps that was an unflattering way to put it, but suffice to say she looked like she was ready to topple over.
She noticed another kind of gaze too. A look of curiosity. The male students of Cornell saw in her something odd. Her outward appearance may have been vaguely disheveled but she was unmistakably pretty. It was a rather odd combination of body and personality, and one she loathed. How much easier it would be to be ugly. No one would mistake her for one of them. By them Emma meant the socialites, the plastic people that dominated the halls of this 'prestigious' institution. The women who went on dates with cute boys and spent the night partying and drinking. She hated it. She scorned every occasion where she was invited to a party or asked out by a boy. She wanted to sleep. She didn't care for it.
Of course, one important detail that she had not internally addressed to her private audience was her attendance at Cornell. A 14% acceptance rate meant that one such as her had no place in the gilded halls of an Ivy League institution such as this. It was all her parent's doing. They wanted her out of their house, but they would not have the Rocha name attached to a meager community college student, or a barista making minimum wage. It was only the best, even for one unwanted such as herself. It was for this reason that her parents pulled a great amount of strings to land her in their ancestral university. It was all an unfortunate mistake on the part of her parents and on the part of the university, for she had absolutely no intent on getting a degree.
It was for that reason that as she shuffled into her first class (Differential Equations) she picked out her seat, placed strategically in the farthest corner from the front, and buried her head into a makeshift pillow formed from her arms and promptly fell asleep. She had been the topic of many a conversation within the room, for most people had caught onto her ritual of not taking any notes and sleeping the entire class. It was an oddity, especially in a place such as Cornell. Even the professor caught onto her game- When the semester was younger he would make a point to call her out, but quickly realized it was to no avail. It was only due to her parent's connections (and sizable donations to the campus) she would not be dropped from Differential Equations, or any other class.
The same scenario played out as the day went on in her next class, and the next, and the next, until it was time for her to return to her dorm.
To her surprise there was someone waiting for her in the room, sitting quietly on the couch. A girl, likely the same age as her. Emma spoke up, "Uhhhh, excuse me, can I help you?" The girl looked up in surprise. She took a moment to process Emma's words, until her mouth grew agape. "Are you kidding me? Emma? We met the first week, when we moved in. I know we have different schedules- and, your, uh, sleeping- but really?" That would explain the other bed, and the groceries.
It would appear Emma did indeed have a roommate. Go figure.
The girl shook her head, "You're lucky I get so much grocery money from your parents." That was undoubtedly money payed not only for groceries, but also to put up with her. Emma's expression didn't change, "Well, uh, nice to meet you? Or I guess I already met you. Either way, I'm going to bed."
And so Emma's day ended, not even 6 hours after it began.
But that was inconsequential as well. Emma couldn't give a fig or a fickle for her parents games, as she got quite adept at tuning them out. But, of course, the entire line of thought was also inconsequential because at the moment she had bigger concerns: Food. Her stomach was rumbling fiercely, as she had not had anything to eat since she went to bed nearly 18 hours ago. That would be 8 PM the previous day. It was rather standard fare for her- given the time she slept in class assuming she didn't have any obligations she would sleep a maximum of 22 hours a day. It was sleep, or play video games, or watch movies, or television, or eat, or sleep... It was rather baffling how such a life style was sustainable.
What was more baffling was the fact that Emma remained thin. She was willing to entertain the notion that if she was indeed developing superpowers that one of them must be some sort of super metabolism. Today for breakfast (or lunch, depending on your perspective) she prepared a pot of instant noodles. Her diet consisted almost entirely of the sodium rich dish, as it was quick to prepare and wouldn't cut into the time she spent pursuing her rest. Given this and her extremely sedentary lifestyle it was a wonder that she subsisted at all, being the reason that she plays with thoughts of super metabolism.
It wasn't crazy, it wouldn't be her first superpower. During her morning routine that centered around the consumption of tasty noodles shadows dance wildly across the walls of her dorm. In most cases one would use the phrase 'shadows dance' in a figurative way, but it is meant very literally. Emma had discovered a curious ability: She could control shadows. It was an odd and unexplained phenomenon that Emma had no intent of sharing. It was fortunate that she didn't have a roommate. Well, that is to say, she didn't think she had a roommate. She couldn't disprove the existence of a mysterious stranger that haunted her dorm room during the hours which she spent sleeping. That would explain how the fridge always mysteriously filled itself... and the other bed. And all the other assorted objects that didn't belong to her.
Now she wasn't so sure she didn't have a roommate.
For the time being her ramen was finished and she had no choice but to take a shower. She enjoyed the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin. Plus it didn't hurt to feel clean. Of course, given the choice, she would be using the time she spent on personal hygiene sleeping, but she at the very least had the wisdom to understand the necessity of showering and dental hygiene. After she had finished cleansing she was obliged to dress for class. She always wore the same things- Sweaters, sweatpants, whatever was comfortable. It was easier to sleep in. She would worry about looking pretty when she had a reason to care about it.
With her begrudging morning routine done Emma reluctantly dragged herself to class. She always noticed people looked at her. Maybe it was because of the way she shuffled slowly, head hung low and signs of sleepiness displaying clearly on her face. To others she must have looked like some kind of reanimated corpse willing itself forward. Perhaps that was an unflattering way to put it, but suffice to say she looked like she was ready to topple over.
She noticed another kind of gaze too. A look of curiosity. The male students of Cornell saw in her something odd. Her outward appearance may have been vaguely disheveled but she was unmistakably pretty. It was a rather odd combination of body and personality, and one she loathed. How much easier it would be to be ugly. No one would mistake her for one of them. By them Emma meant the socialites, the plastic people that dominated the halls of this 'prestigious' institution. The women who went on dates with cute boys and spent the night partying and drinking. She hated it. She scorned every occasion where she was invited to a party or asked out by a boy. She wanted to sleep. She didn't care for it.
Of course, one important detail that she had not internally addressed to her private audience was her attendance at Cornell. A 14% acceptance rate meant that one such as her had no place in the gilded halls of an Ivy League institution such as this. It was all her parent's doing. They wanted her out of their house, but they would not have the Rocha name attached to a meager community college student, or a barista making minimum wage. It was only the best, even for one unwanted such as herself. It was for this reason that her parents pulled a great amount of strings to land her in their ancestral university. It was all an unfortunate mistake on the part of her parents and on the part of the university, for she had absolutely no intent on getting a degree.
It was for that reason that as she shuffled into her first class (Differential Equations) she picked out her seat, placed strategically in the farthest corner from the front, and buried her head into a makeshift pillow formed from her arms and promptly fell asleep. She had been the topic of many a conversation within the room, for most people had caught onto her ritual of not taking any notes and sleeping the entire class. It was an oddity, especially in a place such as Cornell. Even the professor caught onto her game- When the semester was younger he would make a point to call her out, but quickly realized it was to no avail. It was only due to her parent's connections (and sizable donations to the campus) she would not be dropped from Differential Equations, or any other class.
The same scenario played out as the day went on in her next class, and the next, and the next, until it was time for her to return to her dorm.
To her surprise there was someone waiting for her in the room, sitting quietly on the couch. A girl, likely the same age as her. Emma spoke up, "Uhhhh, excuse me, can I help you?" The girl looked up in surprise. She took a moment to process Emma's words, until her mouth grew agape. "Are you kidding me? Emma? We met the first week, when we moved in. I know we have different schedules- and, your, uh, sleeping- but really?" That would explain the other bed, and the groceries.
It would appear Emma did indeed have a roommate. Go figure.
The girl shook her head, "You're lucky I get so much grocery money from your parents." That was undoubtedly money payed not only for groceries, but also to put up with her. Emma's expression didn't change, "Well, uh, nice to meet you? Or I guess I already met you. Either way, I'm going to bed."
And so Emma's day ended, not even 6 hours after it began.
Should I wait for those who have reserved Bounty Hunters and Government Agents before starting the IC, or must I start the IC now?
I would say if they don't speak up we should go ahead.
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