Festive

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

_{St. Louis, Missouri - August 12^th, 2019}

As the years passed without a word, not an utterance in earshot, and his age ticked down his remaining years but a single thought was held in his mind: was the day told to be that of his birth truly the one in which he gained life or an arbitrary estimate constructed by whoever created birth certificate upon which was his identity. Such a thought had held a veil over the fringes of his mindscape since the day he had first celebrated the concept of a birthday and had first laid conscious eyes upon his birth certificate. Immanuel’s hands fiddled with the wallet held in the reaches of his jean pocket, one by which he was gifted on this day years in the past. A wallet which he pulled out with stresses upon the leather from daily and a lone fragment of paper poking its bent end out from the inner space. The paper his eyes had averted their gaze from since the last time he had bore witness to its contents, to words written upon its surface that heralded falsehood and untruthful confessions of apologies. One in which he hated, hated the words that were written, the ink in which it stood, the paper that was defiled yet in but the same vein a chain from depths of his heart anchored the note to his person, kept it within his hands and not hitching a ride in the back of a garbage truck.

Immanuel’s eyes gazed up from the wallet he held and out onto the open street before him, slipping the leather-lined object back into his pants. His sight was clear, clearer than most even, there was but little doubt upon that fact, but as he watched the car pass and trucks rattle down the road his ears took in but little of it. Small, the most minuscule fragments of sounds so loud it would make another cover their ears. As he crossed his eyes darted both down and up the street more times than he had before, only catching the alert that it was his time to cross due to the blinking white light it present. Life had been a change, but what was his if not one of no constants, not even a natural sense he believed he could rely upon in his trial of life stuck around to see him through the tribulation that stood in store for him. For as his ears abandoned him from the force of another his eyes picked up part of the mantel shattered and shaken up by the loss of hearing. Not a single sound that entered his ears was clear, his world was low, with a muffled filter tied to it that added another layer of unintelligibility to a curse already wicked in its means.

As his figure turned the corner his eyes were met with the all familiar sight of the Blaylock. The only few who deemed it fit to house someone such as himself. Few desired to home a teenager, less one who bore a disability. By no fault of his own the system under which the reigns of his life were held spurred upon him the tag of undesirability. They were the ones who sent him away to a home that heralded tales of misdeeds from those among his peers, they were the ones who hadn’t found the boy a forever home even when he was but an untainted baby, unmarred or scarred by the reality that helped few and benefited fewer. Lady luck had only stood at the side the day Blaylocks sought to take in another child to fill their home, and the kid by which they could teach and mold stood ripe for the picking before the. And now as he stood before their door, fiddling with the lock that never seemed to want to open on the first turn of the key, it stood along a line of moments within his life laced with normalcy. And although he held questions reserved about the date today, the Blaylocks were the first to make the day feel but mixed with an ounce of his own, hinted with a pinch of love sprinkled at the top.

The door he held the handle of creaked open as his eyes were greeted with the same sight of brown furnishings accompanied by cream-colored walls, a warmth permeated the halls of the home as his other sense was greeted by the aroma of a baked good heating in the kitchen only adjacent to where he stood. The Blaylocks themselves were a family consisting of only a single hearing member, his adoptive sister who stood as the only one to greet him at his entrance. Immanuel slung the back off his shoulders and onto the hook beside the door as he spoke out to his sister, ”How long have they been out for, Steph?” his voice had been loud, almost a yell as he spoke forth. Through his time with a worse leveling hearing his control of the sound of his voice waned. Stephany had been the only one within the family he spoke to using his voice, reading lips was a skill with a learning curve he stood at the bottom of the incline for, and practice with his sister was one he needed. ”Not sure, about an hour or so? They stepped out for more decorations I think.” He watched her lips as she spoke, the verbalization of every word he registered within his mind. Although as she spoke he caught the tail end of her sentence.

”What? Can you say that again?” His own voice? He could hear his own voic-

His hands gripped his ears as he fell to the floor.

What was all this noise?

_{Why could he hear?}

_{What was he even hearing?}

He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. All he could do was scream. Air hissed from his mouth as a shrilling shriek pieced his own ears and that of his sister as he continued. His throat lay hoarse and felt like rips were being drawn in its meat as he could no longer extend sound from out of vocal cords. His mind could not comprehend a single sliver of a fraction of the sounds that crossed the border of his ears as his mind burned like the flame of a dagger doused and gasoline and lit ablaze carved into the surface of his brain matter. Tears strolled down his face as his sister ran to his side, gripping her own phone to dial the number of their parents.

“What the fuck is wrong with me.” Immanuel choked as the noise, the static by which there was no differentiating, became louder _{and louder and louder.}

---

_{Location: In the air}

Human #5.051: Vegas

---

_{Interaction(s): Nil}

Previously: Third Contact

Immanuel’s eyes have only been heavier a few times before as his head up from the cushioned section of the head rests. He had never had the easiest sleep in general, much less within a seat stationed in a flying tube of metal with engines that roared with its hissing cylinders moving throughout and the screaming blare of the flames that left the back stood under the sharp whistles of the wind moving against and scratching the metal it passed. It was hard keeping a filter around him with such sounds pushing against his holds and the ungodly sounds of his fellow passengers made little help in his cause for the loving embrace of in slumber’s arms. His eyes looked upon the sleeping bodies of both Cleo and Lucas, as he checked his watch which read well into the AMs. Immanuel’s mind held it unlikely he would see another possibility of sleep upon this flight, flicking up the window to his left to get a sight of the night sky. The tints of purple darkness spread across the expanse as a view he had grown accustomed to during times such as these. Ones spent within his dorm room staring out into the star mind absent of thought. Ones spent staring out his room window in the Blaylock home hoping for a they never would abandon him. Ones spent staring out the window of his social worker’s car after another family had deemed his time finished. If anything, when there was no one left in his corner, but a single soul upon his side, the stars had always embraced his company with arms open unlike any other.

In the stars he found a shelter.

In those accepting he found a home.

Agents of H.E.L.P - A Hyperverse Roleplay [Invite Only]

M O R G A N A R C H A M B E A U
M O R G A N A R C H A M B E A U

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^{_{"Now you know me." "Now you don't."}}

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P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ NAME: | Morgan Archambeau _______________________________________________________________________ STATUS: | Active _______________________________________________________________________ INDEX DATE: | TBD _______________________________________________________________________ DATE OF BIRTH: | 1999/12/21 _______________________________________________________________________ ALIAS(ES): | The Faceless One _______________________________________________________________________ RESIDENCE: | Quebec City, Quebec _______________________________________________________________________ CITIZENSHIP: | Canadian _______________________________________________________________________ CLEARANCE LEVEL: | Special Agent B A C K G R O U N D B A C K G R O U N D ________________________________________________________________________________________ The early life of one Morgan Archambeau lay woven throughout the fragmented delusions from the age of but eight, for they are the tainted remembrances of a life that left only yearning for something better. A child of squalor lay there in the dirt and grime with so little time before a power that would obfuscate their being would appear. Morgan can not quite remember the day but beneath the midnight sky filled with the shouting screams of a mother, a scream through the agony for the safety of her child. A night but so common in their early life scenes tended to meld together into an amalgamated mess they refused to sort. But on this night, the stars sparked something in their mind, a notion to leave, to run, to escape into the city over yonder for a life free of pain, free of the tyranny of a father who released the anger of their sins unto their spawn. And with nothing but the shoes upon their feet and the worn pajamas upon their body, a young soul took off into the night. The stress, the adrenalin, the hope; it spurred forth their curse. As they ran throughout the night a child free from their shackles, that now familiar tingling of warmth spreading throughout their body began as they escaped through the streets of Chicago. They wore a face that changed with every passing second, all unfamiliar, all unconsciously. The next day the child, fearing the woes of strangers on the street and the further wrath of a father when they are found, returned home wearing a skin that was not theirs, met only with confusion and rejection when they encountered that of their mother who could recognize her own child within the skin of another. A moment that began their life alone, forgotten by all those they loved; an unrecognizable figure. For Morgan, their life had held no clear path forward, no light guiding their trek, not a hint of the north star in the night sky. The young child learned through the trials of homelessness and abandonment the art of survival, the path hidden in the grime to make little out of nothing. To scavenge for scraps to feed the ever-growing pit within their stomach was a task often hard to accomplish. As the days passed, the pursuit of more aided Morgan to learn their ability. To shackle the dragon that terrorized their life, and to master its control were endeavors which took years of their life to even begin to start. By the age of fourteen, Morgan, after a stint of several petty robberies using their abilities, was picked up by the likes of H.E.L.P. who had received a tip about a young local hype. After being taken under the wing of the organization, Morgan was enrolled in P.R.C.U. to continue on the rest of their adolescent life under the watchful eye of H.E.L.P. who assisted them gain mastery over their ability. R E C R U I T M E N T R E C R U I T M E N T ________________________________________________________________________________________ Directly following their graduation from P.C.R.U.’s Collegiate program, Morgan continued his education within the institution through the school’s H.E.A.T. program. Through extensive training both within and without the hours mandated by the program, Morgan had continued to develop a mastery of the ability that they had marked as a vex upon their life since its inception. Within the years of their enrollment in the program, Morgan has made several strides in their performance and once again by the same people who had rescued him from his life of solitary survival, eventually being recruited as a probationary agent at the end of his time with the program as a probationary agent in H.E.L.P.’s Enforcement and Response Division. C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U ________________________________________________________________________________________ Morgan’s career within the ranks of H.E.L.P. has been one that was dwarfed compared to the likes of their comrades. Quick on their feet, sharp in the mind, and familiar with the workings of the organization, Morgan quickly moved on from their days as a probationary agent. Since their formal induction to the rank of special agent only two years prior, the brevity of their career does not define the accomplishments they have made in such a short time. The pinnacle of undercover investigation within their division, Morgan has contributed heavily to the case in which they are assigned, for who is better at surveillance than who has no set face, no set voice. For when a case gets hot there is no better disguise than that of the people searching for you. Morgan is an agent mostly known only by name and the light-hearted tricks they play upon their comrades. A career laden with an often tense relationship with authority and a stubbornness unmoving its will. Despite their problems with those of higher rank, the effectiveness of their ability and performance on the field has been an undeniable factor of their tenure.

P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N _________________________________________________________ [STANDARD FORM ONE] _________________________________________________________ [STANDARD FORM TWO] _________________________________________________________ P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N _________________________________________________________ RACE: | Caucasian _________________________________________________________________ SEX: | Interchangable _________________________________________________________________ HEIGHT: | Variable [STAN. FORM ONE] 5'11" | [STAN. FORM TWO] 5'7" _________________________________________________________________ WEIGHT: | Variable [STAN. FORM ONE] 164lbs | [STAN. FORM TWO] 142lbs _________________________________________________________________ HAIR COLOUR: | Variable [STAN. FORM] Brown _________________________________________________________________ HAIR LENGTH: | Variable [STAN. FORM ONE] Short | [STAN. FORM TWO] Mid back _________________________________________________________________ EYE COLOUR: | Variable [STAN. FORM] Brown _________________________________________________________________ HANDEDNESS: | Right A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T S, & W E A K N E S S E S A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T S, & W E A K N E S S E S _________________________________________________________ H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || S O M A T I C A T O M I C R E C O N F I G U R A T I O N __PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || Esoteric __SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || Dynamic __POWER SCALE || TBD __THREAT CLASSIFICATION || TBD Somatic atomic reconfiguration is a Hyperhuman ability that allows the user to consciously rearrange and reform the atoms that compose their body. Dr. Leah Reno has documented from observations of the user, one M. Archambeau, that the ability can influence all factors of the human appearance, including but not limited to through current observation: hair (and its facets), eye color, skin color, body shape, height, weight, and facial features. The process by which Archambeau can reconfigure the atoms that construct their body lies through the use of the stored HZE ions concentrated within. These special particles attach to the body's atoms breaking the chemical bonds that hold them together to move them into different orders as well as being the spark that recreates these bonds to produce different combinations in order to achieve Morgan's desired change. If the body does not possess enough mass to produce the desired changes it will use energy to extend HZE ion to pull the elements which the human body is constructed of out of the environment to compensate for the deficit. L I M I T A T I O N S & W E A K N E S S E S || E T E R N A L V O R A C I T Y & O V E R H E A T I N G The process of using their ability requires a vast amount of energy from Archambeau to complete any such rearangment. The amount of energy needed is not uniform however, it is based upon the amount of change to the atomic structure which has occured under their direction, scalling exponentially as Archambeau requires atompheseric atoms to add more mass to their body or is removing mass from their body. The concequences of this facet of their power ignites their motabolism into overdrive, requiring copious amounts of substenence in order to complete a transformation successfully. However the amount of food required heavily relies on the amount of changes to their atomic structure performed as mentions prior. The reconfiguration and build of bonds of the atoms within their body exothermic reactions. Though such a fact, the changing of appereance by Archambeau contiually heats up their body determining how big the changes are. The heat produced is usually negliable for transformations which occur in distant intervals of each other but in situations of which Archambeau manipulates their atom structure multiple times within a short time period this heat will build to levels which become determental spurring symptoms of sickness and in rare occassions even heatstroke.

DIP

Sounds good to me!

DIP

<snipped quote>

Regarding WWII, I have read extensively on many accounts of various battlefields around the world. I know I can come up with something, but I will leave it up to you.

For Vietnam, I would like to go with units of the 173rd Airborne in the Central Highlands in 1967.

For GWOT, if we get that far, I know I can come up with something.

I may just delete the War with Spain in 1898.

@Gunther

I like the suggestions you put forth for the other wars; I believe that they would be great to portray. On the topic of WWII, I suggest that we portray the Second Battle of El Alamein in the African Campaign. This battle, primarily between the British versus the Italians and Germans, saw forces of around 195,000 and 116,000, respectively, fight near the Egyptian city of El Alamein and end with an Allied victory.

DIP

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___________________________ N A M E S : N A M E S : - Krokinos (The Battle of Thermopylae) Your memory's a bit hazy of your past lives... ___________________________

___________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y : P E R S O N A L I T Y : One damn hard-headed bastard. He is a rough soul. A man who fights for all, one who sports a rowdy and loud temperament, adorned by the aggressive passion that fuels in tandem with thrill-seeking adrenaline, that often coursed through his body, an eternal flame that made his heart pump. Although compassionate he stands as a man often stuck in his own ways, stubborn to the fact of change. When works, no matter how small the task may appear to be to those who watch, he is one who pours his all; his soul, the essence of his being, his passion, and but all that makes him himself. L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : You can't seem to remember the tricks you once knew... ___________________________________________________________________________________

DIP

<Snipped quote by Festive>
You sold me on Nanjing!

I love your CS submission and format. Do you mind if I borrow that for this Roleplay? I will include it in the OOC.

@Gunther

Thank you! And yeah! Go ahead

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___________________________ N A M E S : N A M E S : - FIRST LAST (The Battle of PLACEHOLDER) You're memory's a bit hazy of your past lives... ___________________________

___________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y : P E R S O N A L I T Y : Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Vel eaque quae vel sunt quia aut corrupti perferendis? Ut distinctio enim sit galisum explicabo ut dolorem numquam rem dolor adipisci ut consequuntur voluptatibus sed dolorem saepe. Et doloremque voluptas eum exercitationem dolores in atque quod et repellat magnam est tempore odio et saepe sunt et repellat repudiandae. Et velit omnis qui doloribus voluptates ut voluptas quia ut rerum sunt ut labore debitis id internos rerum id doloribus molestiae. Et ipsam voluptatem vel excepturi dolores ab galisum nihil ut ipsum dolor ut amet earum in pariatur praesentium qui placeat eligendi. L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : You can't seem to remember the tricks you once knew... ___________________________________________________________________________________

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- FIRST LAST
[sub](The Battle of PLACEHOLDER)[/sub]

[center][i]You're memory's a bit hazy of your past lives...[/i][/center]
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Vel eaque quae vel sunt quia aut corrupti perferendis? Ut distinctio enim sit galisum explicabo ut dolorem numquam rem dolor adipisci ut consequuntur voluptatibus sed dolorem saepe. Et doloremque voluptas eum exercitationem dolores in atque quod et repellat magnam est tempore odio et saepe sunt et repellat repudiandae. Et velit omnis qui doloribus voluptates ut voluptas quia ut rerum sunt ut labore debitis id internos rerum id doloribus molestiae. Et ipsam voluptatem vel excepturi dolores ab galisum nihil ut ipsum dolor ut amet earum in pariatur praesentium qui placeat eligendi.

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[center][i]You can't seem to remember the tricks you once knew...[/i][/center]
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DIP

character submission

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___________________________ N A M E S : N A M E S : - Krokinos (The Battle of Thermopylae) Your memory's a bit hazy of your past lives... ___________________________

___________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y : P E R S O N A L I T Y : One damn hard-headed man. He is a rough soul. A man who fights for all, one who sports a rowdy and loud temperament, adorned by the aggressive passion that fuels in tandem with thrill-seeking adrenaline, that often coursed through his body, an eternal flame that made his heart pump. Although compassionate he stands as a man often stuck in his own ways, stubborn to the fact of change. When works, no matter how small the task may appear to be to those who watch, he is one who pours his all; his soul, the essence of his being, his passion, and but all that makes him himself. L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : L E S S O N S L E A R N E D : You can't seem to remember the tricks you once knew... ___________________________________________________________________________________

DIP

I would personally prefer Nanjing more as I believe it adds more diversity to the battle set

DIP

1. 480 BC Hell's Gate at Thermopylae 300 Spartans v. Persian Army
2. 22/23 December 218 BC Battle of Trebia Romans v. Carthagenians
3. 10/11 January 49 BC Caesar crosses the Rubicon River in his rebellion
4. 9 August 378 Eastern Roman Army v. Goths
5. 6-12 May 878 Viking Danes under Guthrum v. Wessex Army under Alfred the Great
6. 1066 Battle of Hastings English Housecarls v. Norman Knights
7. 1191 Third Crusade: Battle of Acre 8 June
Battle of Arsof 7 September
Battle of Jerusalem November
Richard III Lionhart & Philip II v. Islam
8. 25 October 1415 Battle of Agincourt French Knights v. English bowmen
9. 21 October 1600 Battle of Sekigahara Ishida v. Tokugawa Samurai
10. Seven Years War 1756 - 1763 World War
11. Napoleon wars 1798 - 1815
12. USCW 1861 - 1865
13. Spanish-American War 1898
14. Great War 1914 - 1918
15. WWII 1939 - 1945
16. Vietnam War 1967 - 1971
17. GWOT in Afghanistan 2001 - 2021

@Gunther

I really like the list presented, definitely a lot of solid choices of engagement to explore, although I do have two more possible battles, those of which being the Battle of Tours (732) and the 3rd Battle of Nanjing (1864)