Little Bird

The Gifted (Reborn)

Can't wait to have Maya punch things really hard. lol.

Gonna wait on the conversation to move along before posting again (as one does).

What kind of RP mood are you in?

I just want to see the RPs I'm in take off.

RATTLECHOMP

@Wayward, sure!

@Mole

You good to use Google Docs?

The Gifted (Reborn)

We doing?

RATTLECHOMP

@Wayward, sure!

@Mole

Awesome. I'll get something started up over the coming weekend.

@Mokley

Two questions:
1. Am I correct in understanding that the train is coming to a stop?
2. Would you be OK if I shared this RP on the Guild's Discord to see if we can round up a few more participants? We seem to have lost about half our party.

RATTLECHOMP

@Mole Seeing as it's just you and I on the Howl end of things right now, you want to handle the next post in a collab? With the fast pace it might make things flow better by having Toni and Neomi respond in one post.

The Gifted (Reborn)

Maya

Ninety-Seven...

[indent]The morning had drifted sluggishly into afternoon. What had started as a deceivingly cool midwestern day had risen to sweltering temperatures. The sun lashed down with devilish fury. The heat was simply ubearable to the collective of souls caught within the fencing of Area 06. The Gifted, powerful though they might be, were only as capable as their powers allowed them; adding the suppresant collars they had all been forced into, they stood little chance of finding comfort outside of the small pockets of shade they had been allowed to erect. Even the Hunters guarding the base were ill-prepared, with those unfortunate enough to be on the daytime rounds being denied nearly any access to the presumably climate-controlled fortification at the camp's center. Truly, the high rollers of the Hunter initiative treated themselves and their bootlickers well while the bottom feeders were left to the worse aspects of the job.

Ninety-Eight...

Despite the heat wafting down from the skies, there remained at least one person in the camp either too resilent or too foolish to be caught idling. In a bare and open spot close to where the Gifted had built their shelters, Maya Anne Morales-Torres was deep into an effort that had the guards themselves shaking their heads. In the midst of sparse, labored foot traffic and watched curiously by the small gatherings in nearby shelters Maya was propped up, stripped down to little more than a pair of shorts, shoes, and a sports bra, powering her way through a long set of push-ups. Around the count of thirty, she had begun to feel the adverse effects of the heat beginning to poke and prode at her collar-stiffled person. But by the time she reached sixty, all care for the struggle and fatigue evaprated into the humidity that hung in the day's heat.

Ninety-Nine...

Truthfully, she realized as she had hit the eighty mark, she had no clue just how beneficial any workout would be in her current state. Without the suppresent force of her collar, she could push herself further, and hone, however marginally, her already amplified physical prowess. With those powers either stiffled or altogether blocked the end results would be uncertain. Would her superhuman strength and endurance even benefit from workouts she did without them? Would gains she made as an otherwise "normal," if physically fit, human, translate and scale up once she finally got out of the Hunters' trap? Maya really couldn't say for sure; she had asked herself these questions more than once since she arrived in Area 06, but had continued exercising despite not knowing, and in sheer spite of the conditions she was being kept in. If nothing else, she could at least rest assured that she was maintaining her dignity and willpower. If that was it... it would have to be enough.

"One... Hundred."

Maya's upper body pushed itself back to starting position for the centenial count. Deciding on the spot to cutoff her final set there, she pivoted to her right and landed gently seated onto the ground below. She collected a few breaths, and then hopped back to her feet and began a circling track around the camp. Usually, on obscenely hot or rainy days, the few dwellings and shelters for the Gifted were occupied fully; it took either a lot of luck or a lot of force to clear out a space in one. Maya couldn't have cared less about that though. Enduring the harsh circumstances only set her apart from the others. It kept most people at a distances where she could see them if they came up on her. Plus, she'd be better off if they ever did break free; some of the weaker ones might not even make it to the tree line before exhaustion took them and delivered the back to the Hunters.

As she walked around the encampment, Maya found herself the recipient of a share of nervous and outright frightened glances, and the subject of murmurs and whispers. She had grown used to this kind of treatment around Area 06. Still, it kept her on her toes. While some might have thought her paranoid for it, she knew there was a target on her back. Area 06, even as it was lauded with a perfect track record for keeping its prisoners inside, had nonetheless seen an attempt at an uprising. As it happened, Maya, then tied to the Hunters' chains as the proverbial junkyard dog, had been the one to drop in and literally beat down the resistance. Naturally, sentiments were unfavorable towards her, and once she arrived as a "permanent" resisdent of the camp, she knew there was a buzz about the camp regarding how and when to exact sweet revenge unto her. The only thing keeping anyone from making good on their talk was the fear that the guards would put the voltage through them if they started anything, or that "Balboa's" collar would get conveniently turned off just long enough for her to fight them off... the others couldn't be too certain that Maya was in fact a prisoner and not just another safety net for their captors.

"Ugh... The Hell?" a sudden spike in temperature drifted out in a wave from somewhere nearby, and for all of her time still training herself, Maya wasn't ready for that kind of heat. She stopped in her tracks, glaring down a staring passerby until they shuffled away. She looked around for the source of the heatwave, finding it in a young woman a short distance away. The heat subsided quickly as the source Gifted ways treated with the Guards' tried-and-true shock therapy. Maya, in an overtly dispeased mood, stepped with pounding feet towards the other Gifted, joining a gathering group of one she racognized as 'Wildfire,' a blonde woman she couldn't recall, and Blitz. She arrived just in time to overhear riff-raff about defending each other. Maya shot the blonde woman a disdained look. "No chance anyone in here is putting up a fight while these things are still on," she pointed out, tapping the collar around her neck. "This place is as tight as Hunter camps get."

Geonet: Battle for the Megacity

Not my best work. It is what it is though. Posted.

Geonet: Battle for the Megacity

Baba O'Reilly

Morning Over Grund Way

Home... Sweet Home...

Baba O'Reilly stood high, perched atop a loft overlooking Metro street. She closed her eyes in a gentle musing as a light breeze carried across the skyline. With a feline stretch, she yawned in a low tone; though the first rays of sunlight were only beginning to cut through the smoggy fog that hung over the city, Baba had been awake for several hours already.

In need of respite from an early morning of prowling and job running, she had made a beeline towards Home. Now, a quick jog across the roofs of the Megacity later, the abode of the Retros Orphans sat a few buildings away.

She stretch again, touching her toes, feeling the relieving pull in her lower back and legs. Feeling loose, and rejuvenated in the rush of a second wind, Baba strode to the edge of the rooftop, and looked across to the next one over. A twenty-foot gap and a single story drop stood between her and the next landing spot. Her right hand drifted toward the grappling gun holstered on her hip, but stopped short of removing it. Recoiling her hand, she backtracked. Thirty feet from the ledge, she propped herself into a starting-line stance, and broke into a sprint. When she reached the last two feet of solid surface, her legs contracted, and sprung forward from the edge of the rooftop.

The muscular implants would do their job as intended; the alleyway passed hundreds of feet beneath her, though she had long taught herself not to look down. Her bound easily crossed the gap between the buildings. When her descent reached the next building over, she landed in a smooth tuck and roll, moving seamlessly into a continued run. The roof tops in the Retros' neighborhood were packed tightly; she ran and jumped the distance with trivial effort before stopping at the building next door. As she approached the end of the last roof, a rain of bodies dropped, all tucking and rolling themselves, and running by her; she recognized them immediately as other Retros.

Weird. Freebird doesn't usually send us out this early. She took up her grappler, firing it off and hooking to a fire escape attached to the Home building. In rush of air to the face, she zipped across the way and onto the escape landing and climbed her way to the top.

Home was empty, save for one slender figure standing on the far side from Baba.

She approached with urgency. "Yo. Freebird. What's up?"

"Burning the midnight oil again Baba?" Freebird spoke with their usual nonchalance, though a layer of tension hid under the surface of their words.

"What's with the early start?" Baba ignored her leader's comment.

"You should really get some sleep." Freebird's tone shifted to a more pointed sternness.

Again, Baba ignored the commentary. She ducked away into a canvas tent, where she sifted about. "Is there heavy shit today?" she called out from inside the tent. She opened a minifridge, pulling out a half-full cup of chicken ramen. She popped it into a nearby microwave. A minute later, she walked back out, slurping up a mouthful of noodles.

"I'm guessing you're not gonna go to sleep."

"Probably not." Baba downed a sip of broth.

"Someone from Vale Court stopped by about an hour ago. Said something big went down last night.

"What kind of big?" Baba had been out for a while already, and hadn't heard much beyond the normal affairs of the Megacity.

"Someone from the New Wave cell... dead... gunshot wound.

"The fuck?" Baba nearly spat out a helping of noodles. "Legit? That's some shit right there."

"I don't know if it's true though. So I got everyone out early. Gotta figure out if this is for real. And if it is, get a plan together."

"Right." Baba dove back into the tent. When she emerged, the cup of ramen had been replaced by her jetboard. "Gonna go down level, Bird. If it's the lowdown we need, I know the guy."

"Ryker?" Freebird practically laughed. "I don't care much for the guy. If you think he's got a read on things though... Fuck it. Talk to him. But keep it cool."

"Don't worry bro. I gotchu." Baba left Freebird with a wave. She slung her jetboard over her shoulders and descended the fire escape.

======/======

Baba's board hovered to a stop after a ten minute ride up the street. Dismounting, she folded the board and slung back onto her shoulders as she entered the old school storefront. Instantly, her ears were met with a catchy, 20th century tune humming low in the background of the shop.

youtube.com/watch?v=34ZmKbe5oG4&ab_ch…

"Mornin'! Welcome to The Bodega!"

"'Sup, Ryker?" Baba asked coolly, perusing the collection of records in the middle of the store. "Recovered any good tracks? Been trying to get my hands on some more Floyd."

The Gifted (Reborn)

I'll have time thus coming weekend to get a post together