Horrid

The Gifted: A Fast Paced Superpower RP (Relaunch)

Clementine Mercer

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"You remember the plan right?" The man beside her growled. His voice was like a gravel path on her ears. Harsh and imposing. Clementine nodded complacently and smiled as much as she dared without drawing more of his ire. Being the new gal in the group wasn't exactly easy. Especially when that group was an organized cadre of burglars and thieves. In the back of the delivery truck, they waited as they drove to their destination. Clementine's breath was caught in her throat every time they slowed down. Every moment was spent looking at the door and waiting for it to fly open and reveal the police just waiting for her. Waiting to take her away to jail. She shook every now and then, and her tongue felt heavy. Her skin was crawling with goosebumps and her heart beat hard. Her chest felt like it was going to collapse with how hard her heart was beating. The impatient snapping of the man beside her brought her back into the moment and away from her fears.

"Okay, well if you remember, then tell me your part, Snow." Snow. The callsign she had picked for her. Because she was very pale. And because she was 'fragile'. She thought nothing of it at first, but now she could feel the bite that the name had intended to have. She stammered for a moment, brushing some of her ghostly-white hair out of her face and cuffing it behind her ear. "I... uh, I am running bags. That is all. I am a bagman. I don't talk. I don't act. I follow, I stay low and I carry the bags." The man looked at her as she read all this off, like a practiced speech. He was nodded slowly. She was right. Keep calm, keep quiet, carry bags. That was all she had to do. They had drilled that into her enough by now that she could remember. That and she had worked hard to get into this crew so quickly, on such short notice, that she would lose her mind if she forgot.

"Good. You've remembered well. It'll be over before you know it and then we'll all be sitting pretty back by ourselves. Just a little bit richer." He smiled at that and looked to the others. They were smiling too. She didn't recognize them, they had already pulled on their masks, but there were six of them including herself and the man beside her. Small team for a small part of a bigger scheme. "We're not far out now," The man beside her, Woody, with the cowboy hat and ski-mask on, said with that same impatient tone, "We'll be there in just a bit longer, so make your last preparations." He stood for a moment to check his outfit and look over the others, holding an object out to Clementine without even looking at her. It was a handgun. What kind, she wasn't sure. It was boxy and black. That was all she knew. She had seen something like it in gangster and crime movies. She knew how to use a gun. Don't touch the trigger unless you want to shoot, point the loud end at the bad people. Simple enough.

She took it slow and put it in the shoulder holster she was provided with, along with the two magazines that were already there strapped to her chest. Clementine sat in silence for most of the trip there, fiddling with her mask out of anxiousness. Her heart was in her throat and going strong when Woody came back and clasped a hand on her shoulder. "Stay low and stay close, Snow. We've just got to get in and get out. No troubles if we stick to the plan." She nodded once more and pulled her plain black ski-mask over her head. It was going to happen and it was going to happen soon. She was ready.

Disneyland, here she comes.

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

@Billsomething That was supposed to be Small Blue Girl. The blue is kind of obvious, don't know where sad came from.

VIGILANCE: To Whom Much Is Given (~RECRUITING~)

Thanks man, likewise for you. You're post was easy to use as reference as well, so bonus points for that.

VIGILANCE: To Whom Much Is Given (~RECRUITING~)

All good, all good. First post look alright to you otherwise?

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

Drizzak sees people in simple enough terms. If you want to make a game of it, you can try guessing who is who from the monikers he assigned the cast.

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

Drizzak

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It seemed that the small goblin had arrived a bit too late to receive the instructions given out by Sister Agnes, but all the same he knew that the presence of others would be a help as it always was. Drizzak, at his basest, was not the greatest listener in day to day interaction. In combat, you bet he could hear a fly parping, but when it came to talking of tasks and duty he always just shouted for more gold until he got it. This was one of the reasons why joining up and following seemed to be the best thing for him right now. Others could listen where he did not, while he barked at people for more gold. It was a brilliant plan. Flawless. Absolutely flawless. He almost wrung his horrid, clawed hands in glee as he giggled to himself.

This group of interested adventurers seemed so much bigger than what he was used to, however. Sana, he recognized, but allowed her to leave freely as he assessed the others along for the ride. Apparently Hugh, big armor holy man, was here too, which was a fact he was neither overjoyed or wary of. Was Hugh the one that threatened to make him swallow his teeth or... hrm. It didn't matter. They could fight and both knew him. That would be valuable. But these new faces. So strange as they came and went. The Holy Robey woman, the Fancy-Dressed Puffy Man, the Man with the Shining Head, the Firehair Swordlady, Tailman Badlook, Capebook Paleman, Blue Robes man and Small Blue girl and finally the newest entrant Orc McLarge. He did not know names. He did not make note of them. Drizzak was too distracted by the smells and sights to be seen around the Apothecary's Shop.

The rumbling of his stomach gave him a start, and spurred him to move. He couldn't eat glass tubes and metal skellingtons. He needed meat. He needed tasties. To take a chunk out of a villager simply wouldn't do, but Sana couldn't have gone far. She would know where food was. The dancing people always knew. The exclamation of Orc McLarge shook him slightly, causing him to turn his head to the side and look at the towering half-orc. Drizzak, strangely, remained silent as he sized up the great, 6'6" green man as if he were just his size. His wide, jagged smile was now just a slight sneer as he growled. "You too big. You get hit first, Drizzak bet. Nasties always munch big first."

With a slight chuckle, he adjusted his bearskin cloak and turned to the door. "Drizzak hunger. Meat. Want." As succinct as ever as he barged out the door and followed the scents of food, finding his way to the inn. He barged right through that door too and found the familiar face of Sana once more. A familiar setting, this was, as he shuffled onto a stool far too high for him and barked at Sana. "WHERE FOOD. WE GET FOOD, YES?"

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

Gold.

VIGILANCE: To Whom Much Is Given (~RECRUITING~)

Shit I didn't see the uniforms post. I'll get to fixing that.

VIGILANCE: To Whom Much Is Given (~RECRUITING~)

Booker

6:00 AM, Tuesday. Sept. 8th, 2015.

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The red digits of the alarm clock flashed in the dark of Booker's room as he rolled over in bed. He didn't want to get up. There was a weight pushing him into the soft mattress. He was too comfortable to leave the bed's warm embrace just yet. Instead he brushed his hand against the carpet at the foot of his bed, slowly searching until he brought up what he needed. His smart-phone, slightly cracked and scratched from his usual neglect and mistreatment. It was only a moment before he was swiping through social media news-feeds and checking out the latest updates his friend's had posted for themselves. Joseph had uploaded more shirtless photos, to the ire of Booker, and was still receiving a couple dozen likes per visible muscle group. Booker left a comment with a chuckle. 'my feed got no business lookin like this.'

Darrell was busy trying to flex his new wardrobe, with his collection of new snapbacks and shirts. Booker admired the new chains he was wearing, glossing in the light of the picture. He wasn't usually one to wear jewelry, but they looked alright. He'd leave a like, but no more. Darrell got too talkative about his possessions when you engaged him, and Booker was not in the mood for that.

Meanwhile, further down the feed, Morgan was busy being savage as usual. Booker was surprised to find out that an argument that had begun the previous day was still going on, in the form of a 200+ comment chain. From the looks of it, most of it was from Morgan. Girl didn't know when enough was enough, but she was good to have as a friend. Loyal to the end. Booker smiled as he scrolled over several lines of insults and mockery. Damn, the girl had fangs. A knock on the door immediately wiped the smile from his face, the voice from behind it all too familiar to him. "Book? You hear that alarm, right? Could y'shut it off? Makin' an awful racket." His father spoke in measured tones. The voice of a police negotiator. Booker slapped the top of the alarm clock and silenced its blaring. He did not reply to his father, he was already too engrossed in his social media once again. His father wanted to come in, he knew, but he wouldn't. They had already spoken too much about personal space.

"Thanks buddy." He said with a sigh before Booker heard his boots scuffing the floor down the hall. As he swung his legs from the bed, he felt his phone erupt into vibrations and his ringtone replaced the alarm clock's noise. 'Excuse me mista, but can y'please turn down the lights, I don't really like all these cameras man, and this sh-' Booker picked it up before Tyler could cuss, and brought it to his ear slowly.

"Big-B! Boy, you ready for today? Back to school, back into it! I'm hype, no lie man." It was D-Bag. Or Darrell. D-Bag was his nickname within the circle of friends he was part of. Just like Morgan was Mog, Joseph was Jojo and Booker himself was Big-B. There were others, but this quartet was the only ones he'd really call his friends. Booker wiped at his face and groaned, he had almost forgotten that today was the first day of senior year. He grumbled into the receiver, "D... what'd I tell you about callin' me this early?" Darrell's reply was slightly staggered, he knew that Booker didn't like to be talking on the phone as the sun was coming up. "Y-yeah I know, B. But jus' hear me out. Squad was talkin' in the group chat and we thought we'd hit up breakfast before first period."

Booker sighed and chuckled slightly. "Oh, and how you gon' get there?" He knew the answer, but the asking amused him more and more every time. Darrell stuttered out, "Uh, well we were hopin' that you would be able to bring the whip around to Jojo's and we jus' like-" Booker cut him off with a laugh and a follow-up question, "Aight, how many am I takin'?"

Darrell paused for a moment, Booker could almost hear him counting up the heads. "Uh, just the usual squad. You and me, as well as Mogs and Jojo. And Trisha and Penny." Booker's smile drooped and his words came slow as he droned, "I don't know any Trisha and Penny." Darrell was already off on another stuttering spree before he even finished, "N-nah nah nah, don't worry B, they nice. Fine as hell. You'll love 'em." Booker scratched at his bared chest as he stood up, "My car only has five seats, son," he said with a tone of slight protest. Darrell wasn't hearing it, and signed off with a rushed, "Aight, see you at Jojo's at 7, peace!"

The red numbers of the alarm clock told him it was 6:17. He grumbled slightly as he pulled on a pair of shorts and made a beeline for the bathroom. His shower was quick and slightly frigid, like always. Towelling off and getting dressed only took a moment, as he threw on his slightly oversized uniform, complete with a pair of black Ray-Bans. Keys, phone, wallet and his backpack that was packed as hastily as it was unpacked when last school year let out.

Booker looked himself over in the mirror. Tall, chubby and babyfaced. Just like always. Nothing out of the usual there, so that was alright. His skin was being agreeable today, all smooth and clear. Seeing his bald head like this made him want to grow his hair out some days, but the feeling of the breeze on his scalp was too nice to deny. All that prep and it was only 6:38 now. He wasted no more time and made his way to the front door of the small house that he and his father shared.

"Heading out for school, buddy?" His father asked from the kitchen. He was nursing a cup of hot coffee as he looked Booker over with a smile. "A bit early, don't you think?" Booker shrugged, stopping in his tracks on the way to the door. "Well, crew wanted to get some food before we hit the books." He paused a moment to notice his unintentional pun before nodding to his father. The older man was fitter than Booker, but he was graying around the temples. A face similar to Booker's, but that beard and those wrinkles added something that he himself couldn't replicate. Experience and age. His father nodded back, sipping from his coffee cup again before speaking.

"Well, don't let me keep you then. Have a good day, son."

He hummed back in confirmation as he walked to his car. The beat up Mini Cooper. It was only a few moments of checking mirrors and fiddling with the clutch before it coughed into action and he rolled out from the driveway and onto the road. Jojo's house was regarded as the 'central hub' for the squad's meet-ups. It was close to everyone and it was easy to find. Just had to look for the fancy house on the hill. Booker didn't even have to search the streets to be able to see who he was picking up. Jojo, the fitness guru in his wide-shouldered glory had his arm around D-Bag, the lanky one decked out in all the expensive accessories. Shiny watch, nice glasses, fancy shoes and that perfect smile. Beside them was Mogs, the shapely young woman yelling at D. Beside them were two figures he didn't know. Two young women, looking slightly tired and slightly alienated.

As he pulled up, the Mini backfired and sputtered. He rolled down the window and gave a nod in greeting. "Hurry up and get in, I'm hungry as hell." D came to the window and took a hold of his hand, thanking him for the favor. With Mogs in the passenger seat, D and Jojo in the back with Trisha sitting atop Penny in the middle, they set off. It wasn't a long drive. It wasn't a long breakfast either, as before he knew it, it was almost 9 and Booker was pulling into a student parking space with friends in tow. They clambered out like clowns at a sideshow, all yelling and making a ruckus about one subject or another. If it wasn't clothing, then it was music. Or relationships. Or fights.

Booker watched them from the driver's seat as he turned the car off, made his crumpled parking pass visible and got out, slamming the door and locking it lazily. "Come on, B!" Calls went out to him as he moseyed over and joined his friends, moving to enter the school as they always did. Loudly.

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

Was me adding the picture of Drizzaks sword and fixing up the format alright? You can check the PMs and see I didn't change anything if you feel the need.