Ezekiel
Festive
Half Pint
Cyberlad
Hound55
HeMandaddy
Melissa
Supermaxx
Sep
swordmasc<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
Oh no I was gonna let you do the introduction 😂
Oh, did not realize that nor am I entirely sure of your vision. I can whip something up this afternoon and run it by you before posting.
Lord Wraith
Member
Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
STATUS: I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me. 2 mos ago
Status
Recent Statuses
2 mos ago
Current
I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
4
likes
5 mos ago
But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2
likes
6 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9
likes
7 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7
likes
8 mos ago
When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
9
likes
Bio
L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H
"TBD"
U S E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________U S E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ U S E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________U S E R S U M M A R Y Lord Wraith _________________________________________________________ February 21st | 31 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Married | ♂ | Heterosexual _________________________________________________________ Ontario | Canada P R E F E R E N C E S P R E F E R E N C E S C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S | A B O U T M E A B O U T M E All systems go. Back to writing. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. |
Most Recent Posts
Oh, did not realize that nor am I entirely sure of your vision. I can whip something up this afternoon and run it by you before posting.
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
Was I?
Unless I misunderstood, which is entirely possible.
But I thought you were doing a dedicated Villain POV post and then I was responding.
<Snipped quote by mattmanganon>
If he doesn't soon I will 😂
I thought you were doing another post lol
Accurate image of Matt logging in every morning to see if Wraith or Sep have posted yet.
Well now I'm not going to.
| Several Weeks from Now
Cold.
Lorcán was cold.
And he didn’t like it.
With his powers absent, his body temperature was running lower, the ambient temperature around him much more evident and for the first time in his life, he even saw his breath as the night dew began to settle on the long grass and leaves that surrounded him on this mirrored image of Dundas Island.
He forged ahead, following Ellara’s lead as she guided himself, Gil and Aurora through Ünterland. Looking up at the dark boughs that made up the forest canopy, Lorcán was instantly transported back to the Northern Forest on his Dundas Island. Images of the Wendigo that attacked him quickly overwhelmed his mind and he found himself taking a breather against a nearby tree before insisting to Aurora that he was fine.
She reluctantly accepted before they caught up to the rest of the party, breaching the top of the cliffs that should have looked down on the campus. Instead, Lorcán’s eyes were greeted by a walled town, built centrally around a mansion that resembled the Administration building.
Smoke carrying the aroma of warm hardwoods burning in open hearths drifted over the crimson horizon while the faint undertones of meat on an open flame and freshly baked pastry all present a tantalizing aroma that drew Lorcán forward before Ellara held up a hand.
“You run in there with your mouth watering and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” She snapped towards Lorcán. “This island is under protection of the Pack, and is occupied by such, we don’t know what manner of Hellion live within those walls.”
“I thought Hellions were just mindless beasts,” Lorcán inquired, “Like the thing that attacked me in the forest.”
“The vast majority survive off instinct and desire, consumed by their unterseele, but there are those that are sentient, some that were even once seen as human. Some still are passable, at least under the right conditions.” Ellara warned, “Play disinterested and standoffish, they can literally smell fear and they sure as hell can smell Midyeden all over you.”
Ellara held her hand steady, her eyes surveying the walled village again before she uttered a final warning.
“And for your friend’s sake, pray the Jarl isn’t a bloody vamp.”
Lorcán was cold.
And he didn’t like it.
With his powers absent, his body temperature was running lower, the ambient temperature around him much more evident and for the first time in his life, he even saw his breath as the night dew began to settle on the long grass and leaves that surrounded him on this mirrored image of Dundas Island.
He forged ahead, following Ellara’s lead as she guided himself, Gil and Aurora through Ünterland. Looking up at the dark boughs that made up the forest canopy, Lorcán was instantly transported back to the Northern Forest on his Dundas Island. Images of the Wendigo that attacked him quickly overwhelmed his mind and he found himself taking a breather against a nearby tree before insisting to Aurora that he was fine.
She reluctantly accepted before they caught up to the rest of the party, breaching the top of the cliffs that should have looked down on the campus. Instead, Lorcán’s eyes were greeted by a walled town, built centrally around a mansion that resembled the Administration building.
Smoke carrying the aroma of warm hardwoods burning in open hearths drifted over the crimson horizon while the faint undertones of meat on an open flame and freshly baked pastry all present a tantalizing aroma that drew Lorcán forward before Ellara held up a hand.
“You run in there with your mouth watering and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” She snapped towards Lorcán. “This island is under protection of the Pack, and is occupied by such, we don’t know what manner of Hellion live within those walls.”
“I thought Hellions were just mindless beasts,” Lorcán inquired, “Like the thing that attacked me in the forest.”
“The vast majority survive off instinct and desire, consumed by their unterseele, but there are those that are sentient, some that were even once seen as human. Some still are passable, at least under the right conditions.” Ellara warned, “Play disinterested and standoffish, they can literally smell fear and they sure as hell can smell Midyeden all over you.”
Ellara held her hand steady, her eyes surveying the walled village again before she uttered a final warning.
“And for your friend’s sake, pray the Jarl isn’t a bloody vamp.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Alumni Village - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Human #5.025: Island on Fire
Interaction(s): None
| Present
| A Week From Now
Previously: Who's Got It?
| Present
Awakening with a start, the room around Lorcán looked almost foreign as his eyes took in the pitched ceiling. Sunlight streamed in from the side and boxes sat piled up in the corner from where Lorcán had transported the last of his belongings from the Canis dorm back to the Roth house.
Aurora was down the hall, settling into her own room while his parents' bedroom was on the ground floor, built into an extension off the back of the house that gave them their own private suite.
The house was quiet.
The island was quiet.
No bugle to awaken the campus, no throng of students hustling to the Mess Hall to chow down on the breakfast buffet. No Hyperball in the quad, no students taking the horses out along the trails. Even the Alumni Village where the Roth House resided was still, the morning dew completely undisturbed.
Climbing out of bed, Lorcán threw on a tanktop and his boardshorts before slipping his feet into his flip flops and tucking his mane of hair under a backward ball cap. The sun was barely cresting above the horizon, but he wanted to get in some waves before departing for Crestwood Hollow with Aurora.
Last night had gotten far more tense than Lorcán had ever anticipated that it would. The confrontation with Katja left him second guessing so much about the time he spent getting to know her. If Katja of all people could be seduced to join a terrorist organization, what hope did the rest of them have? Or perhaps, Katja was far better at wearing a mask than she ever let on.
His board drifted out into the water as Lorcán climbed atop it and paddle out towards some swells.
What if Amma had been there? Katja had spent a lot of time around Amma in the short time she had been at P.R.C.U., seemingly trying to force a friendship with the smaller, raven-haired woman. Had they ever truly been friends? Or was Katja just trying to recruit Amma? Amma was exactly the kind of destructive force Hyperion would have been drawn to during his reign, it only made sense his followers too would seek similar parties out.
Amma Cahors, the girl who never got to have fun.
Did she even have a tombstone? What would it even say?
Here she doesn’t lie because she was dragged into the abyss.
If there was any justice in the universe, then whatever boat Katja boarded on her way to the Foundation would find itself at the bottom of the Atlantic. Lorcán only regretted that Harper of all people was also stuck going to that forsaken place. Haven and Rory would hopefully find their happy ending elsewhere, but Harper had no positive prospects.
The crash of the waves was like a melody and Lorcán himself became the harmony as he darted between the swells, cutting across the water and shooting through tube after tube of top quality surf. It was almost as though the island itself was saying goodbye to him, sending him off in the best way it could.
His stomach growled as she finally came ashore, looking back out over the seemingly endless Pacific one last time before picking his board up and heading back to his parents’ house.
Hopefully someone made bacon.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Aurora was down the hall, settling into her own room while his parents' bedroom was on the ground floor, built into an extension off the back of the house that gave them their own private suite.
The house was quiet.
The island was quiet.
No bugle to awaken the campus, no throng of students hustling to the Mess Hall to chow down on the breakfast buffet. No Hyperball in the quad, no students taking the horses out along the trails. Even the Alumni Village where the Roth House resided was still, the morning dew completely undisturbed.
Climbing out of bed, Lorcán threw on a tanktop and his boardshorts before slipping his feet into his flip flops and tucking his mane of hair under a backward ball cap. The sun was barely cresting above the horizon, but he wanted to get in some waves before departing for Crestwood Hollow with Aurora.
Last night had gotten far more tense than Lorcán had ever anticipated that it would. The confrontation with Katja left him second guessing so much about the time he spent getting to know her. If Katja of all people could be seduced to join a terrorist organization, what hope did the rest of them have? Or perhaps, Katja was far better at wearing a mask than she ever let on.
His board drifted out into the water as Lorcán climbed atop it and paddle out towards some swells.
What if Amma had been there? Katja had spent a lot of time around Amma in the short time she had been at P.R.C.U., seemingly trying to force a friendship with the smaller, raven-haired woman. Had they ever truly been friends? Or was Katja just trying to recruit Amma? Amma was exactly the kind of destructive force Hyperion would have been drawn to during his reign, it only made sense his followers too would seek similar parties out.
Amma Cahors, the girl who never got to have fun.
Did she even have a tombstone? What would it even say?
Here she doesn’t lie because she was dragged into the abyss.
If there was any justice in the universe, then whatever boat Katja boarded on her way to the Foundation would find itself at the bottom of the Atlantic. Lorcán only regretted that Harper of all people was also stuck going to that forsaken place. Haven and Rory would hopefully find their happy ending elsewhere, but Harper had no positive prospects.
The crash of the waves was like a melody and Lorcán himself became the harmony as he darted between the swells, cutting across the water and shooting through tube after tube of top quality surf. It was almost as though the island itself was saying goodbye to him, sending him off in the best way it could.
His stomach growled as she finally came ashore, looking back out over the seemingly endless Pacific one last time before picking his board up and heading back to his parents’ house.
Hopefully someone made bacon.
| A Week From Now
“Yeah, you like heard that guy back at P.R.C.U. The Foundation lost the school because they didn’t procure the deed, if we had the deed we could save the school.” Lorcán replied, looking at the building.
“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”
“Nothing wrong with trying to stay positive, Leo,” Cass replied with a shrug, “But I doubt this is something you can just force. For the life of me, I just can’t figure out why this school wasn’t torn down or the grounds turned into something else. I get that it’s a historical building, but you’d think the city would do something with it.”
“Unless,” Lorcán’s eyes lit up again, “They can’t?”
“Oh c’mon,” Cass groaned as Lorcán began to excitedly pace.
“We both know that Jonas involuntarily traveled through time during the course of his life. What if he knew exactly what was going to befall P.R.C.U. and planned for it. Dude, this could have been the plan all along,”
“But if your Dad had the deed, for either school, he would have said so.” Cass argued, “So you’re still without any sort of claim for either, oh mighty Prince.”
“But Jonas wouldn’t give the deed to my Dad.” Lorcán replied, shaking his head.
“Then who?”
“If I like, recall my P.R.C.U. history correctly, Jonas originally taught a class of eight Hyperhumans here to use their abilities which ultimately led to the creation of Pacific Royal,” Lorcán began, Cass watching the wheels turn.
“My dad always describes them as like a ‘secret study group’ dedicated to honing their abilities and discovering the identity of Vanessa Bordeaux’s killer. Her brother was in that group, if anyone owns what’s left of Mather, it’d wager it’s him.”
“So say you’re right,” Cass started, “Say Bordeaux has the deed to this school. Why would he give it to us? Wasn’t there always bad blood between Viktor and Uncle Aiden?”
“This building is derelict, no one cares about it.” Lorcán gestured towards a broken window and the crumbling brick around it. “But with Hyperhuman abilities, we could surely bring it back to life, retrofit it, and start a small Hyperhuman school right here in Crestwood Hollow. ‘The Crestwood Academy for the Gifted’. There’s a vision here for a fresh start.”
“And who’s going to teach?” Cass deadpanned, “No way anyone from P.R.C.U. wants to get caught back up in this mess, and that’s not including those who jumped ship to the Foundation.”
“We are.” Lorcán replied, “We’ll teach, face it, it doesn’t have to be the flashiest school, it doesn’t need to be P.R.C.U., it just needs to be safe.”
“Leo, I don’t know, what about money-”
“If we can get Viktor Bordeaux on board, I’m sure we can get him to financially back us from his family money, and my parents will be on board, my Dad could even be the Principal. Plus Uncle Calvin is a contractor-”
“Yeah, but he’s not a Hype,” Cass interjected, “Not that he wouldn’t help, but not exactly the superhuman speed you’re looking for.”
“No point in rushing this, I still have a promise to keep to Gil and we’ll have to figure out how to get people to trust us after P.R.C.U.” Lorcán mused while rubbing his chin.
“How are you going to work in Vancouver and restore a school in New Hampshire? Won’t that push ‘Rora’s abilities to the brink?” Cass asked, “Even if you’re just coming on weekends, that’s a long way for her to ‘port herself, let alone both of you.”
“They only mothballed H.E.L.P., everything is still there,” Lorcán replied, a glimmer in his eye as Cass’ own widened.
“C’mon, no, there’s no way.”
“Oh yes.” Lorcán replied.
“We’re going to steal an Albatross.”
“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”
“Nothing wrong with trying to stay positive, Leo,” Cass replied with a shrug, “But I doubt this is something you can just force. For the life of me, I just can’t figure out why this school wasn’t torn down or the grounds turned into something else. I get that it’s a historical building, but you’d think the city would do something with it.”
“Unless,” Lorcán’s eyes lit up again, “They can’t?”
“Oh c’mon,” Cass groaned as Lorcán began to excitedly pace.
“We both know that Jonas involuntarily traveled through time during the course of his life. What if he knew exactly what was going to befall P.R.C.U. and planned for it. Dude, this could have been the plan all along,”
“But if your Dad had the deed, for either school, he would have said so.” Cass argued, “So you’re still without any sort of claim for either, oh mighty Prince.”
“But Jonas wouldn’t give the deed to my Dad.” Lorcán replied, shaking his head.
“Then who?”
“If I like, recall my P.R.C.U. history correctly, Jonas originally taught a class of eight Hyperhumans here to use their abilities which ultimately led to the creation of Pacific Royal,” Lorcán began, Cass watching the wheels turn.
“My dad always describes them as like a ‘secret study group’ dedicated to honing their abilities and discovering the identity of Vanessa Bordeaux’s killer. Her brother was in that group, if anyone owns what’s left of Mather, it’d wager it’s him.”
“So say you’re right,” Cass started, “Say Bordeaux has the deed to this school. Why would he give it to us? Wasn’t there always bad blood between Viktor and Uncle Aiden?”
“This building is derelict, no one cares about it.” Lorcán gestured towards a broken window and the crumbling brick around it. “But with Hyperhuman abilities, we could surely bring it back to life, retrofit it, and start a small Hyperhuman school right here in Crestwood Hollow. ‘The Crestwood Academy for the Gifted’. There’s a vision here for a fresh start.”
“And who’s going to teach?” Cass deadpanned, “No way anyone from P.R.C.U. wants to get caught back up in this mess, and that’s not including those who jumped ship to the Foundation.”
“We are.” Lorcán replied, “We’ll teach, face it, it doesn’t have to be the flashiest school, it doesn’t need to be P.R.C.U., it just needs to be safe.”
“Leo, I don’t know, what about money-”
“If we can get Viktor Bordeaux on board, I’m sure we can get him to financially back us from his family money, and my parents will be on board, my Dad could even be the Principal. Plus Uncle Calvin is a contractor-”
“Yeah, but he’s not a Hype,” Cass interjected, “Not that he wouldn’t help, but not exactly the superhuman speed you’re looking for.”
“No point in rushing this, I still have a promise to keep to Gil and we’ll have to figure out how to get people to trust us after P.R.C.U.” Lorcán mused while rubbing his chin.
“How are you going to work in Vancouver and restore a school in New Hampshire? Won’t that push ‘Rora’s abilities to the brink?” Cass asked, “Even if you’re just coming on weekends, that’s a long way for her to ‘port herself, let alone both of you.”
“They only mothballed H.E.L.P., everything is still there,” Lorcán replied, a glimmer in his eye as Cass’ own widened.
“C’mon, no, there’s no way.”
“Oh yes.” Lorcán replied.
“We’re going to steal an Albatross.”
The fire dwindled and one by one, the remaining members of Blackjack departed, final words hanging in the air like the smoke from the now simmering coals.
The future remained uncertain, the atmosphere sense and the mood sour. Blackjack, Eclipse, the last of the teams to formally end, names that echoed across the campus. Firebird had long since packed and left, Raindance only had their drop to Gil to complete before leaving. Bulltrue, the Nice Guys and the rest were gone leaving behind ransacked dorms, discarded uniforms and forgotten armbands.
Bonds that were to be unbreakable, bonds that Hyperion sought to exploit to build an army were left strained and shattered. With the school that brought them together gone, they were adrift and rudderless.
Many even homeless.
In the morning the ferry departed one last time, taking the students to the mainland. Some departed, heading home or to forge their own path while the rest were boarded aboard an aircraft and flown across the country before departing on another vessel bound for the infamous Foundation.
The future remained uncertain, the atmosphere sense and the mood sour. Blackjack, Eclipse, the last of the teams to formally end, names that echoed across the campus. Firebird had long since packed and left, Raindance only had their drop to Gil to complete before leaving. Bulltrue, the Nice Guys and the rest were gone leaving behind ransacked dorms, discarded uniforms and forgotten armbands.
Bonds that were to be unbreakable, bonds that Hyperion sought to exploit to build an army were left strained and shattered. With the school that brought them together gone, they were adrift and rudderless.
Many even homeless.
In the morning the ferry departed one last time, taking the students to the mainland. Some departed, heading home or to forge their own path while the rest were boarded aboard an aircraft and flown across the country before departing on another vessel bound for the infamous Foundation.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Foundation Institute - Atlantic Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Human #5.024: Madness
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Before You Go
Salt.
Salt was the overwhelming smell as the transfers from Pacific Royal were docked at the Foundation’s floating Institute. A flotilla of interconnected pods capable of diving or separating at a moment’s notice, it was a far cry from the forested grounds that surrounded the Pacific Royal campus.
Here, everything was identical. There was no mix-match of modern and classical architecture, character in general had been stripped away and replaced with function. Entering into the docking pod, students were greeted by attendants who immediately handed each student a pair of white scrubs before pointing them to line up for changing stations. Murmurs of discontent quickly rippled through the confused and angered students.
Outbursts were quickly met with reprimand. There seemed to be little choice but to comply as beyond the door they had entered only the endless fathoms of the ocean remained. The stainless outfits reeked of bleach, spartan designs void of any sense of personality; let alone the promised individuality, blended their wearers with the sterile walls and floors that surrounded them while blinding lights illuminated every visible blemish on each of the students.
“When you have changed, please deposit your personal belongings to the right for inspection. Everything that passes inspection will be returned to your assigned room. When you have completed this, please line up for your student identification.”
Several students quickly complied, lining up as they adjusted their hair and anticipating a picture before approaching the counter that awaited them.
“Please place your left wrist in the hole to your left, underside facing up.” The attendant behind the counter stated as the first girl approached. Confused, she hesitantly complied before the opening suddenly clamped around her wrist.
Letting out a timid squeak she relaxed as her hand was scanned. A whir echoed beneath the din of the disgruntled room before the girl let out a blood-curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh cut through the overpowering odour of bleach, singeing the nose hairs of the gathered students. Her knees buckled beneath her, tears streaming down her face before the clamp suddenly retracted, releasing the girl. She slumped to the floor, cradling her wrist against her chest as the next in line knelt down to check on her.
A ten-digit number had been branded into her wrist with a barcode directly beneath it. Beneath the skin, there was a faint glow before it disappeared.
“Please move along, next!” The attendant ordered as the horrified students backed away. But still, there was no further option for escape. They were only delaying the inevitable.
“Next.” The attendant stated again, her hand hovering above a button out of view of the students before another girl gave her head a shake and stepped up. Defiantly putting her hand into the hole, she looked at the attendant before speaking.
“Do it.”
The laser ignited and she let out a whimper but refused to break eye contact as the smell of her own burning flesh threatened to empty the contents of the girl’s stomach. Pre-emptive sobs came from a couple of the students, while others began to hyperventilate. Few were lucky enough to be blessed with the durability to withstand the pain.
One by one, the former Pacific Royal students were painfully inducted into the Foundation, moving beyond the room before entering into a large common space that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a prison. Tables dotted the central area while a contained balcony above offered a viewing for current students who watched the PRCUers enter their school.
Unlike the uniform-wearing Pacific Royal students, the Foundation students watching were garbed in fitted and armoured uniforms, not unlike those worn during Practical Ability Training back on the island. Murmurs of ‘fresh meat’ echoed from the balcony as the current students sized up the incoming students. Their eyes hungrily evaluated who amongst them was strong and who was prey.
Around the base of the balcony, large colourful banners were suspended above the floor. Each depicted a member of the Institute who had been inducted into the Foundation Force, the banner emblazoned with their alias.
Hyperman
Amma’s face looked down on the students from Pacific Royal, her jet-black hair blown out and voluminous in the banner as a revealing leather number left just enough to the imagination. Her trademark red and silver crackling energy filled the image, leaving her hauntingly lifelike, near exactly as they had all last seen her.
“Keep it moving!” The yell came from behind the Pacific Royal group, another attendant directing them out of the common space.
“You’re to report to temporary holding.” He ordered, “Solitary until evaluations are complete. When the door opens, you’re free to report to your quarters.”
As the man explained, the ground entered into a hallway lined with doors on either side. Each opening to reveal a small room no more than three feet wide, by three feet deep. Completely soundproofed to isolate their occupant with enough space to allow a person to sit and wait. A bench laid mounted against the far wall before each student was placed into a holding cell and the door was closed.
Seconds later the lights went out and only darkness remained amongst the silence.
Salt was the overwhelming smell as the transfers from Pacific Royal were docked at the Foundation’s floating Institute. A flotilla of interconnected pods capable of diving or separating at a moment’s notice, it was a far cry from the forested grounds that surrounded the Pacific Royal campus.
Here, everything was identical. There was no mix-match of modern and classical architecture, character in general had been stripped away and replaced with function. Entering into the docking pod, students were greeted by attendants who immediately handed each student a pair of white scrubs before pointing them to line up for changing stations. Murmurs of discontent quickly rippled through the confused and angered students.
Outbursts were quickly met with reprimand. There seemed to be little choice but to comply as beyond the door they had entered only the endless fathoms of the ocean remained. The stainless outfits reeked of bleach, spartan designs void of any sense of personality; let alone the promised individuality, blended their wearers with the sterile walls and floors that surrounded them while blinding lights illuminated every visible blemish on each of the students.
“When you have changed, please deposit your personal belongings to the right for inspection. Everything that passes inspection will be returned to your assigned room. When you have completed this, please line up for your student identification.”
Several students quickly complied, lining up as they adjusted their hair and anticipating a picture before approaching the counter that awaited them.
“Please place your left wrist in the hole to your left, underside facing up.” The attendant behind the counter stated as the first girl approached. Confused, she hesitantly complied before the opening suddenly clamped around her wrist.
Letting out a timid squeak she relaxed as her hand was scanned. A whir echoed beneath the din of the disgruntled room before the girl let out a blood-curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh cut through the overpowering odour of bleach, singeing the nose hairs of the gathered students. Her knees buckled beneath her, tears streaming down her face before the clamp suddenly retracted, releasing the girl. She slumped to the floor, cradling her wrist against her chest as the next in line knelt down to check on her.
A ten-digit number had been branded into her wrist with a barcode directly beneath it. Beneath the skin, there was a faint glow before it disappeared.
“Please move along, next!” The attendant ordered as the horrified students backed away. But still, there was no further option for escape. They were only delaying the inevitable.
“Next.” The attendant stated again, her hand hovering above a button out of view of the students before another girl gave her head a shake and stepped up. Defiantly putting her hand into the hole, she looked at the attendant before speaking.
“Do it.”
The laser ignited and she let out a whimper but refused to break eye contact as the smell of her own burning flesh threatened to empty the contents of the girl’s stomach. Pre-emptive sobs came from a couple of the students, while others began to hyperventilate. Few were lucky enough to be blessed with the durability to withstand the pain.
One by one, the former Pacific Royal students were painfully inducted into the Foundation, moving beyond the room before entering into a large common space that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a prison. Tables dotted the central area while a contained balcony above offered a viewing for current students who watched the PRCUers enter their school.
Unlike the uniform-wearing Pacific Royal students, the Foundation students watching were garbed in fitted and armoured uniforms, not unlike those worn during Practical Ability Training back on the island. Murmurs of ‘fresh meat’ echoed from the balcony as the current students sized up the incoming students. Their eyes hungrily evaluated who amongst them was strong and who was prey.
Around the base of the balcony, large colourful banners were suspended above the floor. Each depicted a member of the Institute who had been inducted into the Foundation Force, the banner emblazoned with their alias.
Hyperman
Miragal
Excaliblur
Crimson Crooner
Steel Shell
Day Tripper
Triton
Tiamat.
Amma’s face looked down on the students from Pacific Royal, her jet-black hair blown out and voluminous in the banner as a revealing leather number left just enough to the imagination. Her trademark red and silver crackling energy filled the image, leaving her hauntingly lifelike, near exactly as they had all last seen her.
“Keep it moving!” The yell came from behind the Pacific Royal group, another attendant directing them out of the common space.
“You’re to report to temporary holding.” He ordered, “Solitary until evaluations are complete. When the door opens, you’re free to report to your quarters.”
As the man explained, the ground entered into a hallway lined with doors on either side. Each opening to reveal a small room no more than three feet wide, by three feet deep. Completely soundproofed to isolate their occupant with enough space to allow a person to sit and wait. A bench laid mounted against the far wall before each student was placed into a holding cell and the door was closed.
Seconds later the lights went out and only darkness remained amongst the silence.
<Snipped quote by mattmanganon>
I set up for @Lord Wraith who's gonna move things on with me.
Hear hear
| 1984
The crisp fall air hung over the New Hampshire valley as the fog slowly faded into the daylight, the sleepy hamlet coming to life as summer’s haze departed and autumn’s chill set in. The morning dew tickled the soles of shoes as students returned after two months away to Mather Memorial High School, moving in shambling hordes across the athletic fields towards the borderline ancient brick building.
With his hands firmly tucked in the pockets of his worn leather jacket, the sandy-haired young man moved deliberately slower than his peers as he approached the dreaded institution. The only saving grace for Aiden Roth was that it was his final year in Crestwood Hollow and then he was gone.
He could leave this place behind.
No more having to mooch off his sister and her overly positive fiancé, no more being reminded of the place where his parents had just up and abandoned them one day. Gone, free to forge his own path, just him and his girl against the world.
His eyes were drawn to a crowd of navy and black as they hollered and celebrated their return to these forsaken grounds. The jocks were particularly fired up for the start of this school year, riding on the coattails of last year’s championship win. The letterman jacket may as well have been a crown at this point and the Mather Memorial Ravens were practically carried by their peers across the field.
“Caw, caw, pisser!”
Aiden turned to the sound of the familiar voice. It felt like forever ago that he had been one of these blowhards. But the coach didn’t want a delinquent on his team and after Aiden’s arrest, he had been kicked off. His life had improved for it, but that didn’t seem to excuse him from the harassment of his former teammates.
“Hey, steal any more cars over the summer?”
The young man rolled his eyes, ignoring their jeers while walking. The bell sounded, signalling the start of the day. Before suddenly Aiden’s arm was grabbed and he found himself spun around. Those of another suddenly met his lips and Aiden felt his body relax as his hands found their way to his girlfriend’s hips.
“Please tell me you weren’t about to just walk by and not say hi to me,” Vanessa teased, a glint of mischief in her eyes. How Aiden, the loser from the wrong side of town who was caught jacking a car ended up landing the Princess of Mather Memorial was beyond him. One of a pair of fraternal twins, Vanessa Bordeaux was from the ‘Belle’ side of Crestwood Hollow and her bedroom alone was about the size of the apartment that Aiden shared with his sister.
The Bordeaux family were among the richest and most powerful families in Crestwood Hollow and while her brother Viktor tolerated Aiden’s presence as his sister’s boyfriend, their relationship was primarily viewed as an act of rebellion by both Vanessa’s sibling and her parents.
“Who do y’think that is?” Vanessa asked while hanging off of Aiden’s arm, motioning with a bounce of her chin towards a man climbing off a motorcycle in the parking lot. He pulled the helmet off to reveal a shaved head before removing the armoured leather jacket.
Aiden felt his eyes meet with the stranger’s, a shiver travelling down his spine before the unknown man unfastened a satchel from the back of the bike and slung it over his shoulder.
“Must be a teacher,” Aiden replied, his answer somewhere between a grunt and a mutter.
“Think we need more teachers like that,” Vanessa giggled before giving a playful tug on Aiden’s similar leather jacket. “You ever considered it?”
“Ain’t no way I’m ever becoming a teacher.”
With his hands firmly tucked in the pockets of his worn leather jacket, the sandy-haired young man moved deliberately slower than his peers as he approached the dreaded institution. The only saving grace for Aiden Roth was that it was his final year in Crestwood Hollow and then he was gone.
He could leave this place behind.
No more having to mooch off his sister and her overly positive fiancé, no more being reminded of the place where his parents had just up and abandoned them one day. Gone, free to forge his own path, just him and his girl against the world.
His eyes were drawn to a crowd of navy and black as they hollered and celebrated their return to these forsaken grounds. The jocks were particularly fired up for the start of this school year, riding on the coattails of last year’s championship win. The letterman jacket may as well have been a crown at this point and the Mather Memorial Ravens were practically carried by their peers across the field.
“Caw, caw, pisser!”
Aiden turned to the sound of the familiar voice. It felt like forever ago that he had been one of these blowhards. But the coach didn’t want a delinquent on his team and after Aiden’s arrest, he had been kicked off. His life had improved for it, but that didn’t seem to excuse him from the harassment of his former teammates.
“Hey, steal any more cars over the summer?”
The young man rolled his eyes, ignoring their jeers while walking. The bell sounded, signalling the start of the day. Before suddenly Aiden’s arm was grabbed and he found himself spun around. Those of another suddenly met his lips and Aiden felt his body relax as his hands found their way to his girlfriend’s hips.
“Please tell me you weren’t about to just walk by and not say hi to me,” Vanessa teased, a glint of mischief in her eyes. How Aiden, the loser from the wrong side of town who was caught jacking a car ended up landing the Princess of Mather Memorial was beyond him. One of a pair of fraternal twins, Vanessa Bordeaux was from the ‘Belle’ side of Crestwood Hollow and her bedroom alone was about the size of the apartment that Aiden shared with his sister.
The Bordeaux family were among the richest and most powerful families in Crestwood Hollow and while her brother Viktor tolerated Aiden’s presence as his sister’s boyfriend, their relationship was primarily viewed as an act of rebellion by both Vanessa’s sibling and her parents.
“Who do y’think that is?” Vanessa asked while hanging off of Aiden’s arm, motioning with a bounce of her chin towards a man climbing off a motorcycle in the parking lot. He pulled the helmet off to reveal a shaved head before removing the armoured leather jacket.
Aiden felt his eyes meet with the stranger’s, a shiver travelling down his spine before the unknown man unfastened a satchel from the back of the bike and slung it over his shoulder.
“Must be a teacher,” Aiden replied, his answer somewhere between a grunt and a mutter.
“Think we need more teachers like that,” Vanessa giggled before giving a playful tug on Aiden’s similar leather jacket. “You ever considered it?”
“Ain’t no way I’m ever becoming a teacher.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Campus Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Human #5.019: Who's Got It?
Interaction(s): Katja Kruger - @Zoldyck
| Earlier that Day
| Present
| A Week from Now
Previously: Nothing Special
| Earlier that Day
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Aiden looked up to see his wife’s smiling face as she took a seat beside him, following his gaze to the fountain in front of the administration building.
“Y’know, some women would be upset if you spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend.” She teased as Aiden looked at the dedication to Vanessa Bordeaux. She had been killed by her best friend, Autumn Miracle, the first known protégé of Yakob Kowalski. She had also had the ability to impart Hyperhuman abilities in others.
Aiden himself only had abilities because of Vanessa. The original eight all only had their abilities because of Vanessa. Her house party, the night of her murder, they had all been there and in their interactions with Vanessa that night, she bestowed her gift, or for some, her curse. Aiden, Minnie, Summer, Viktor, Rita, Emma, Sebastian and…
He paused. There were eight houses, eight students from Crestwood and yet, Aiden for the life of himself couldn’t remember his final classmate. Glimpses of a figure, a voice, a laugh. Pain, panic, tears and fears all hovered at the edge of his mind, just out of reach of his memory.
Aiden recognized Summer’s handiwork, but why would she have hidden one of their friends from him, from them? Questions formed rapidly in his mind, threatening to consume him before a gentle tug at his arm stirred him back to the moment.
“I’m just teasing, Love,” Tori stated gently, leaning her head against his arm. “You really think we’ve lost this time?”
“Jonas didn’t leave me the deed,” Aiden replied sadly, “Not that you’re asking but I know it’s the question everyone wants the answer to.”
“I knew you would have told me if you had it.” Tori replied, “I think we should send the kids to Crestwood, they’ll be safer with Alexis and Calvin while we figure things out. Think you’ll continue teaching?”
“A Hyperhuman teacher?” Aiden’s mouth turned up slightly in a wry grin that had been inherited by his son. “No, I still have a couple connections in law enforcement, I should be able to secure a job there. Won’t be pretty but it should be more than enough money to keep us stable. Maybe present an opportunity to find out what the Foundation’s real angle is.”
“Promise me you’ll be safe, we’ve lost too much already and I can’t lose my husband, let alone abide by my son losing his father. It’s not just Lorcán that needs you either, Cassander, Ripley, even Aurora all look to you.”
“I know.” Aiden whispered, “And I will be.”
“What about Jim?” Tori asked, “Do you think he knows?”
“I’m not sure Jim ever had a relationship with Jonas, but if Kowalski had the deed, then there’s only one person alive who knows where it is.” Aiden paused, his wife’s eyes meeting his before he spoke the name she knew was coming.
“Summer Carlyle.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Aiden looked up to see his wife’s smiling face as she took a seat beside him, following his gaze to the fountain in front of the administration building.
“Y’know, some women would be upset if you spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend.” She teased as Aiden looked at the dedication to Vanessa Bordeaux. She had been killed by her best friend, Autumn Miracle, the first known protégé of Yakob Kowalski. She had also had the ability to impart Hyperhuman abilities in others.
Aiden himself only had abilities because of Vanessa. The original eight all only had their abilities because of Vanessa. Her house party, the night of her murder, they had all been there and in their interactions with Vanessa that night, she bestowed her gift, or for some, her curse. Aiden, Minnie, Summer, Viktor, Rita, Emma, Sebastian and…
He paused. There were eight houses, eight students from Crestwood and yet, Aiden for the life of himself couldn’t remember his final classmate. Glimpses of a figure, a voice, a laugh. Pain, panic, tears and fears all hovered at the edge of his mind, just out of reach of his memory.
Aiden recognized Summer’s handiwork, but why would she have hidden one of their friends from him, from them? Questions formed rapidly in his mind, threatening to consume him before a gentle tug at his arm stirred him back to the moment.
“I’m just teasing, Love,” Tori stated gently, leaning her head against his arm. “You really think we’ve lost this time?”
“Jonas didn’t leave me the deed,” Aiden replied sadly, “Not that you’re asking but I know it’s the question everyone wants the answer to.”
“I knew you would have told me if you had it.” Tori replied, “I think we should send the kids to Crestwood, they’ll be safer with Alexis and Calvin while we figure things out. Think you’ll continue teaching?”
“A Hyperhuman teacher?” Aiden’s mouth turned up slightly in a wry grin that had been inherited by his son. “No, I still have a couple connections in law enforcement, I should be able to secure a job there. Won’t be pretty but it should be more than enough money to keep us stable. Maybe present an opportunity to find out what the Foundation’s real angle is.”
“Promise me you’ll be safe, we’ve lost too much already and I can’t lose my husband, let alone abide by my son losing his father. It’s not just Lorcán that needs you either, Cassander, Ripley, even Aurora all look to you.”
“I know.” Aiden whispered, “And I will be.”
“What about Jim?” Tori asked, “Do you think he knows?”
“I’m not sure Jim ever had a relationship with Jonas, but if Kowalski had the deed, then there’s only one person alive who knows where it is.” Aiden paused, his wife’s eyes meeting his before he spoke the name she knew was coming.
“Summer Carlyle.”
| Present
Lorcán returned to the fire as Benny gratefully left. While not everyone on the team shared his feelings of animosity towards their Australian classmate, Lorcán took particular issue with the fact that Andrew didn’t even take the proper time to learn to say Aurora’s name, instead always referring to her by a term that felt vaguely sexual.
He had often assumed Andrew felt some sort of kindred spirit with Aurora and now that Calliope was gone, Lorcán didn’t want to give Andrew any reason to try to get any closer to his girl.
One look at Aurora told him that whatever Andrew had said while departing had further upset her. He looked from Rory to Aurora again, taking one last look over his shoulder at Gil before a quick headcount told him that the remaining Eclipse members had departed either before or along with Benny.
Every eye around the fire was locked on Katja, watching what she did next. It didn’t take a genius to piece together that her presence was what had caused tempers to flare. He caught a few words here and there, the dilemma at hand, but no matter the outcome, no part in Katja remaining would quell the fires between her and those who remained.
“Uh, brah, I think you should leave.” Lorcán said, looking from Haven and Rory to Aurora again. Their eyes burning, tears welled up in the corners while Harper sat with her head low, a wrap around her eyes. It was odd, Lorcán didn’t recall being told that Harper was severely injured during the Chernobog’s attack, yet here she was with bandaged eyes mirroring the injuries sustained by Haven and Rory.
Katja had been at P.R.C.U. every bit as long as Haven and Rory, and certainly longer than either GIl or Harper. Lorcán had played Hyperball alongside her and against her many times. He shared fond memories of the field with her and Rory, but now those memories were tainted. If she truly had been the traitor Rory claimed, was their entire friendship a ruse? A means to an end to garner their trust and convert them? Hyperion had murdered Jonas, Lorcán’s grandfather, in cold blood.
Lorcán didn’t need Rory to cite his sources, he couldn’t care less about emotions running high. Katja had no excuse, she had lived through everything Blackjack had gone through, the Trials, Hyperion’s attack, Banjo, but now they all stood at a crossroad.
“There’s enough bad blood without you bringing more.” Lorcán replied, thinking back to his conversation with Gil and knowing Katja’s fondness for Amma. She could never be allowed to learn of their pact.
“I hope the tide brings you to calmer waters, but the tide did not bring you here.” He added, “Perhaps you’ll be a better fit at the Foundation, but you’re no P.R.C.Uer, and you’re definitely not part of Blackjack.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________He had often assumed Andrew felt some sort of kindred spirit with Aurora and now that Calliope was gone, Lorcán didn’t want to give Andrew any reason to try to get any closer to his girl.
One look at Aurora told him that whatever Andrew had said while departing had further upset her. He looked from Rory to Aurora again, taking one last look over his shoulder at Gil before a quick headcount told him that the remaining Eclipse members had departed either before or along with Benny.
Every eye around the fire was locked on Katja, watching what she did next. It didn’t take a genius to piece together that her presence was what had caused tempers to flare. He caught a few words here and there, the dilemma at hand, but no matter the outcome, no part in Katja remaining would quell the fires between her and those who remained.
“Uh, brah, I think you should leave.” Lorcán said, looking from Haven and Rory to Aurora again. Their eyes burning, tears welled up in the corners while Harper sat with her head low, a wrap around her eyes. It was odd, Lorcán didn’t recall being told that Harper was severely injured during the Chernobog’s attack, yet here she was with bandaged eyes mirroring the injuries sustained by Haven and Rory.
Katja had been at P.R.C.U. every bit as long as Haven and Rory, and certainly longer than either GIl or Harper. Lorcán had played Hyperball alongside her and against her many times. He shared fond memories of the field with her and Rory, but now those memories were tainted. If she truly had been the traitor Rory claimed, was their entire friendship a ruse? A means to an end to garner their trust and convert them? Hyperion had murdered Jonas, Lorcán’s grandfather, in cold blood.
Lorcán didn’t need Rory to cite his sources, he couldn’t care less about emotions running high. Katja had no excuse, she had lived through everything Blackjack had gone through, the Trials, Hyperion’s attack, Banjo, but now they all stood at a crossroad.
“There’s enough bad blood without you bringing more.” Lorcán replied, thinking back to his conversation with Gil and knowing Katja’s fondness for Amma. She could never be allowed to learn of their pact.
“I hope the tide brings you to calmer waters, but the tide did not bring you here.” He added, “Perhaps you’ll be a better fit at the Foundation, but you’re no P.R.C.Uer, and you’re definitely not part of Blackjack.”
| A Week from Now
Tall metal fences were placed on feet surrounding the building on the other side of the unkept field. What had once been home to numerous athletics now laid overgrown and abandoned just like the crumbling brick building. Following Cass’ lead, Lorcán looked around before using his abilities to boost himself over the fence.
Ripley and Aurora were off being treated to a girl’s day alongside Aiden’s sister, Alexis. With Lorcán’s uncle, Calvin, at work, that left the two boys to come up with their own fun. Someone that involved going to Mather Memorial Secondary School.
“This,” Cassander stated, landing in the grass with a heavy thud before Lorcán dropped to the ground gracefully beside him. “This is where it all began.”
“Careful, you almost sound reverent, dude.” Lorcán teased. “You uh, ever talk to Harper after the dance?”
“No.” Cassander replied quickly, his tone telling Lorcán to leave it alone. But Lorcán wasn’t that perceptive.
“Why not?”
“I’m not interested in long distance, and I’m definitely not going to the Foundation. Plus, she’s been different since the dance. I thought she was cute, I flirted a little, but with everything going on with her…” His voice trailed off, but the implications were obvious. Cass didn’t like to be attached or weighed down. Lorcán knew his cousin had been tentative towards dating to begin with, but Harper certainly came with some baggage to put it lightly.
“Plus, you and ‘Rora said she’s now Haven’s sister or something? So like, if you and Rora get married and then she and I worked it out, that’s one twisted family tree.”
“I’d be related to Rory!” Lorcán exclaimed only for Cassander to raise an eyebrow at just how excitedly the young man had reacted.
“You think Rory and Haven would stay together?”
“It’s not like he’s getting with Katja anytime soon, but eh, I don’t know.” Lorcán replied before the pair emerged from the long grass and looked up at the decrypted building. A wry smile crossed Lorcán’s face before he responded again.
“I can’t even imagine going here.” He let out a low whistle, “When was this place even built?”
“The brick over here is stamped with 1654.” Cass replied, “It was a courthouse during the Witch Trials.”
“Rad.”
“So this is where your Dad met Jonas?” Cass asked, “Why’d you want to come here?”
“Just was hoping that maybe Jonas would pop up here, I’d love to ask him where he hid the deed.” Lorcán sigh wistfully. It was true, given Jonas’ penchant for showing up whenever he needed help, he had thought he could force an appearance by going to a place where Jonas had been. He dug his hands into his pockets, his left curling around the strange object Jonas had previously gifted him as it hummed in his pocket.
“The deed?” Cass asked, shooting his cousin a confused look.
“Yeah, you like heard that guy back at P.R.C.U. The Foundation lost the school because they didn’t procure the deed, if we had the deed we could save the school.” Lorcán replied looking at the building.
“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”
Ripley and Aurora were off being treated to a girl’s day alongside Aiden’s sister, Alexis. With Lorcán’s uncle, Calvin, at work, that left the two boys to come up with their own fun. Someone that involved going to Mather Memorial Secondary School.
“This,” Cassander stated, landing in the grass with a heavy thud before Lorcán dropped to the ground gracefully beside him. “This is where it all began.”
“Careful, you almost sound reverent, dude.” Lorcán teased. “You uh, ever talk to Harper after the dance?”
“No.” Cassander replied quickly, his tone telling Lorcán to leave it alone. But Lorcán wasn’t that perceptive.
“Why not?”
“I’m not interested in long distance, and I’m definitely not going to the Foundation. Plus, she’s been different since the dance. I thought she was cute, I flirted a little, but with everything going on with her…” His voice trailed off, but the implications were obvious. Cass didn’t like to be attached or weighed down. Lorcán knew his cousin had been tentative towards dating to begin with, but Harper certainly came with some baggage to put it lightly.
“Plus, you and ‘Rora said she’s now Haven’s sister or something? So like, if you and Rora get married and then she and I worked it out, that’s one twisted family tree.”
“I’d be related to Rory!” Lorcán exclaimed only for Cassander to raise an eyebrow at just how excitedly the young man had reacted.
“You think Rory and Haven would stay together?”
“It’s not like he’s getting with Katja anytime soon, but eh, I don’t know.” Lorcán replied before the pair emerged from the long grass and looked up at the decrypted building. A wry smile crossed Lorcán’s face before he responded again.
“I can’t even imagine going here.” He let out a low whistle, “When was this place even built?”
“The brick over here is stamped with 1654.” Cass replied, “It was a courthouse during the Witch Trials.”
“Rad.”
“So this is where your Dad met Jonas?” Cass asked, “Why’d you want to come here?”
“Just was hoping that maybe Jonas would pop up here, I’d love to ask him where he hid the deed.” Lorcán sigh wistfully. It was true, given Jonas’ penchant for showing up whenever he needed help, he had thought he could force an appearance by going to a place where Jonas had been. He dug his hands into his pockets, his left curling around the strange object Jonas had previously gifted him as it hummed in his pocket.
“The deed?” Cass asked, shooting his cousin a confused look.
“Yeah, you like heard that guy back at P.R.C.U. The Foundation lost the school because they didn’t procure the deed, if we had the deed we could save the school.” Lorcán replied looking at the building.
“But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
She should just punch something. Sure it might turn out to be a Spiderman or Green Lantern, but atleast then she's involved.
This is my kind of advice.
I should get an Iris post out over the next two days which will progress the event
Once you do this, I'll look at how to further involve Yara since she's been made redundant currently.
© 2007-2024